My Bestfriend's Brother Is My Tutor

The flames danced just as much as they hissed, licking up the wood. The smoke went further than the flames and the backyard of the Lewin's house was filled with smoke and much needed heat. It was a perfect night for everyone. It was supposed to be but I couldn't hold my attention enough to be immersed in the night. There was a lot going on. A lot for one to be immersed in. Lisa's dad, Flynn was heating the sausages on the grill. He flipped one and it aroused a cheer from Patricia. Flynn looked over at her and it was clear that only she mattered in that moment.

"You can't have that too!" Declan slapped Lisa's hands. She stuck out her tongue at him before she caught my eyes. Lisa, my best friend, waved at me before she returned to arguing with her elder brother, Declan. Declan and Lisa were often referred to as twins though he was two years older than her. They fought about everything and were always together until I came along. Lisa and I met on a certain Monday morning, as I walked the school halls, keeping to myself and whatever new fantasy I had wrapped myself in to get through the day. Declan had ru y thy n into me while getting away from Lisa. He was a senior, the finest and hottest of them, and I knew better than to make a big deal out of it. I had already started apologising before Lisa had appeared behind him. She knocked him. "Say sorry, Dee," she ordered, and then to me: "Don't mind my brother, he doesn't have good manners." Dark, blue jeans designed with red and pink butterflies bent at the knees in front of me. Her eyes had been hidden behind her golden, brown hair so I couldn't see if this girl was glaring at me. I hoped she wasn't. I didn't know who Lisa was then. I didn't know that we attended the same literature and algebra classes. I didn't know that we would both be trying out for the volleyball team in the next year. But Lisa, who didn't know who I was, and who I didn't know either, helped me pick my books. "You don't have to." I had tried to stop her. It was what my default reaction to stop people from helping me because when people helped you, you owed them. If you were unlucky, you owed them all your life. Owing someone at home was bad enough, owing another person in school was not my plan. "These are some steamy covers," Lisa had said. We had finished packing the books and Lisa was handing me a three-novel stack. I didn't have the answer for her. All I did was smile and let the red creep up my skin. "Thanks but you didn't have to." "I don't mind," Lisa said. It was the second time she was brushing away my apology. Lisa had given Declan a moment to apologize but when he didn't, she bumped her shoulders into his. "Ouch! I'm sorry..." he didn't know my name so he trailed off. I helped him. "Stacy." "Stacy," he completed. "And now I have to be on my way. See you later, Lis." Lisa had watched her brother run along and I had done the same too because it was going to be rude to just walk away when she was still there. When Lisa faced me again, she said, "Like him?" "What?" I almost choked on my spit. "No!" My eyes had bulged out and my throat had dried. It was the best answer. "Good," was what Lisa had replied. "I like you already." Back to the present evening..... There was smoke and there was laughter in the air yet nothing seemed to be enough for me. Nothing had ever really been enough and I believed it was mainly because I wasn't enough myself. Dad couldn't stay long enough to watch me turn three because his other family needed him. It was either they needed him more or he needed them more because I only saw the man during some holidays. He wasn't even my dad. He was just the man who I occasionally bumped into thrice in a year. I didn't get why mom still let him have access to our house. I would prefer running into him at public places like the library or mall but it only happened at home. It felt like he was intruding on stuff he shouldn't be having access to. Sometimes if I was extra unlucky, I would bump into him in my mom's room. Those were my worst ones. It was embarrassing to even think about it. Embarrassing and disgusting. The last time I asked mom why Jerome-that was my father's name-still came around and slept in her room when he was in town, mom had simply told me that they were not the perfect couple and so they couldn't be understood. It was a stupid answer then but now, I was agreeing with what she had said. Mom was right. They were so far from being the perfect couple. They were the absolute worst and no couple on planet Earth could take that title from them-that is if they should even be considered a couple. Jerome wasn't my dad. Flynn did a better job at being a father to me. The plates on my table were snatched by crystal, accessorized hands. "You okay?" Patricia asked. "You seem distracted." "Yeah." I didn't sound convincing so I sat up and tried to sound convincing "Yeah. I'm good." "Hmm mmm. Whatever you say. How's your mom?" "She's good." "Does she know you're spending Thanksgiving with us?" "She doesn't care." I tried to laugh it off but Patricia was so good at seeing the sadness and a cry to be cared for in my eyes. "You have us. You have me," Patricia said. She had set the pile of plates on the table so she could rub my forearms. "Thank you. I need some water." "Oh yeah, check the kitchen. The ones outside have finished." I jumped from the stool, nodded one last time at Patricia, and walked back into the house, just as I heard Lisa giggling. On some days, it was exceptionally hard to not be jealous of all that Lisa had. I loved her so dearly but love didn't make you look away from what other people had. Sometimes you loved them so much more because you loved what they had. It was a messed up and twisted thing to be thinking so I shut down the thoughts with several gulps of my water. "Who are you?" The water bounced off my lips just as I heard those words. They caused me to tremble with fear and shock, combining to bring my muscles to a halt and into a frenzy. It was a miracle that I was still holding the bottle when I spun at the sound of the voice. A rough mixture of words like the surface of the hairbrush mom let me borrow whenever I was at home. Rough and full, taking up space around me and in me. I didn't recognize the voice and I didn't recognize him. At all. "Who am I? Who are you?" I asked the next question. He gave me a once over. He glanced at the door, then back at me again and I wondered how long it would take me to melt in his line of vision. I had never seen someone with such perfect hair. It was richly dark, full, and curled, shrinking in length but not in its abundant thickness as it traveled down his face and under his chin. It didn't matter that he had trimmed his jawline, the dark hair still made a statement just like the yellow stud in his right ear which sparkled under the kitchen lights. His thighs stretched the blue shorts he had on while his top covered up all of his upper body, leaving nothing for my eyes. Humans could be fit but this guy here, barely three steps away from me was molded to near perfection. I could tell already that he worked out a lot, and it was dreamy to think about him lifting weights until I remembered that he was in the kitchen with me while the rest of the family were outside, existing in the fullness of their moment. If he sliced my throat or stabbed my stomach, it would take them at least an hour to recover my body. Life was shitty. Dad was coming to town soon-I knew this because Mom had recently restocked the house and sent Phil, her newest bed warmer, home. Andy had broken up with me a week ago. Nothing was fine in my life but it was funny the amount of will to live I gathered at that time. It was enough and full that it crept into my chest and caused me to scream the loudest I had ever screamed. The problem was nothing got out. The man moved with speed and muffled my screams with his palm. That's when I started to struggle. His fingers were digging the flesh of my arm, the same place Patricia had rubbed to offer comfort, his palm was pressing down on my lips and his musky Cologne was wrapping around my nostrils, nearly hypnotizing me. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" I continued to shake my head beneath his hold. If it meant 'nothing is wrong with me,' I didn't know. I didn't know a lot except that I was in danger and my body had gone into fight or flight mode or rather, fight and flight mode. "I'm not going to hurt you for crying out loud. I just need you to shut the hell up." I nodded at his words, eyes stuck on his creased forehead. I paused my breathing, waiting for the moment he would let me go. I was going to bolt out of this room and scream for help. That was my plan until he said something that changed those plans. "I'm not ready for my family to find out I'm home. If I'm being honest, I don't want them to find out at all but I can't get everything I want, can I?" Though his hands had moved, the warmth still wrapped around my face. "Your family?" I found my voice after a moment. "Yeah. Lisa, Declan, Dad, and Mom." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "They're my family. Now who the hell are you?"