Chapter 7Mature

   I don't go in the next day; I can't bear to think of Scott and how harsh I was to him. I mean, yeah he jumped to conclusions, and yeah, he didn't know my abilities could make me feel queasy like that - hell, I did'nt know! however, that doesn't give him the right to go all ape-shit on me like that.

  Instead of going into school and being miserable, I stayed at home and was miserable there instead.

   In the end, my day consisted of films that usually wouldn't cry, such as my sister's keeper, which only made me cry because they made me think of my best friend.

   I leant over to my phone but, just as my hand touched it, I heard the doorbell ring. Considering I was on my own - anyone who knew my mother knew she worked 7-to-7 nearly every day - I was really curious to find out who it was: more curious than concered about the fact I was only in a vest top and a pair of shorts.

   "What are you doing here?" I said to the person stood at my front door wearing ripped jeans and a plain pale blue t-shirt.

   "I was worried about you, may I come in?"

   I lead Zach through the hallway, past the living room, into the kitchen, offering him a drink. Upon his acceptance of a Diet Coke, I reached into the fridge - offering a glass and ice but being refused.

   "So, cut to the chase; what are you really here? Who put you up to it? Who sent you to spy on me?" As you can imagine, I was pretty suspicious, given that he'd only met me once.

   "Honestly? No-one. You see, I kind of like you" he looks nervous before adding in a panicked manner, "like a friend, of course, because anything more would be highly inappropriate given that I've only met you once previously."

   I had to hand it him, for a guy who dressed a little too slackishly, he was well spoken. "Well, I'm glad you came, I could do with some friendly company" I reply with a small smile on my lips.

   The next few hours were spent watching comedies such as 'the hangover' and 'bad neighbours' online. I also learnt quite a lot about, not just his sense of humour, but also his background - why he joined our school, Parkwood high school, in the last year. It turned out that his father had been abusive to his mother and him, so - after months and months of tolerating it - they made a stand and left. They need a fresh start, so they moved from Plymouth all the way up here, to rural Norfolk. "Are you sure you're okay, talking about all this?" I ask him, mostly concerned about hitting a nerve.

   "To be pretty honest, Riley, there isn't much more to tell. Mum figured that we would be safer somewhere quiet like here, than we ever could be in a busy city like London. Thank you for letting me open up like this though, I really apprecia-". He was cut of by the sudden sound of "Secrets" by OneRepublic blasting from the speakers of his phone.

   He sighed. "Sorry, I need to go, mum needs some help with something. Thank you again, for having me here; it's nice to know you're okay" without giving me a chance to respond, he pulls me into a quick-but-tight hug, before rushing out the door.

   Good thing he didn't expect me to walk him out, because I could barely see straight, and I could already feel the vertigo I was going to experience when I stood up.

   Then it hits me:

   How did he know where I live?

The End

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