On My Way To Mr. Right

Chapter 21

I stared at him. Then, after five seconds, our laughter filled the air. We spent the rest of the days dodging the Hastings family and joking. He introduced me to some of his colleagues and we laughed at the little stunt a boy named Kyle pulled off.

He was about five years old, with dark black hair and around three feet tall. Everyone was talking and the others eating. Then suddenly, Kyle threw a ball—a basketball— at the fruit punch.

It was hilarious!

He reasoned that his father didn't get him a drink, so "he took his shot". But, as funny as it sounded, his father took him home, with the little boy crying in his arms.

The little boy, Kyle.

He reminds me so much of someone distant in my mind. But I can't put my finger on who. His coyness and that basketball. It just feels too familiar. And the feeling gives my stomach flying butterflies. He's such a sweet boy, and he looked so cute with one of his front teeth missing.

Dad and I got home at around five in the afternoon. Mom was on the porch waiting with a smile plastered on her face and one hand on the hip.

"I'm glad you two had fun," she mumbled as she hugged dad. "Charlotte, someone's waiting for you inside."

"Who is it, mom?" I asked. None of my friends said they were coming over.

"You'll have to find out for yourself," mom said as she and dad went inside.

I cautiously opened the door. I looked around to find James by the fireplace. Almost instantly, my heart fluttered.

"James."

He turned around with a grin on his face. "Hey, Charlotte."

"What are you doing here, James?"

"I'm here for my tutorial with Charlotte," he winked.

I swear my heart dropped for a second with that wink.

"We didn't plan on any tutorials tonight."

"Yeah, but I'm having practice Monday and Tuesday," he explained.

"How about Wednesday?"

"That's the day of the dance. Please, Lottie, I know I'm too much trouble, but just this last one." He pleaded and I couldn't help but let out a giggle.

Of course, I agreed to the tutorial. I couldn't say no to his pleading face, even when I really wanted to see his reaction if I did. Besides, it gave me an excuse to be with him. I wanted to settle these feelings before reaching a conclusion or determining what to do with them. I couldn’t keep on pining for James. He was one of my closest friends. I just have to get through the night and maybe I’d know for sure.

James was writing down his answers on a piece of paper. I'd given him questions to answer and all I had to do was guide him along. He's getting better at math. I mean, he was learning the basic stuff and it was a significant improvement. I just had to help him move along to where we were in the cab. I stared intently at his serious face that was on the side view. His dark brown curly hair was falling off his ear.

I'd love to tuck that behind his ear.

And those biceps that flex every time he gets frustrated with what he is doing. Then those sparkling eyes. Those grey sparkling eyes. I stared at his lips. He seemed to be saying something. He was looking excitedly at me now.

It took me a moment to realize this.

"Charlotte!" James waved a hand in front of me.

I toppled off the chair, a little disoriented.

"Wha—what?!"

He laughed at my clumsiness and I hit him on the head for it.

Glaring, I stood up and composed myself. The jerk didn't even help me.

"Why were you staring at me?" James smirked.

Heat rushed to my cheeks and not the angry one. I was blushing. I've been caught in the act.

"Not—nothing," I stuttered. "I was—was just, umm, waiting for you to finish."

"Oh yeah, that was totally what you were doing," he said, sarcastically.

"Well, are you, umm, finished?" I coughed out, embarrassed.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Here's my paper." He handed me his answer sheet and packed away his things.

"You're leaving already?" My heart dropped low. Not the good kind. It is still early, right?

"Well, yeah, we're done, right? I’ll just wait for you to check those," He motions to his recently submitted papers. I feel a tinge of anger rising inside me. Was he this oblivious?

I mean, I don't think I hide things that well. I'm not a good liar. My mom could see through my lies. Even my friends. He's supposed to be my friend. Why can't he see through me? I didn't want him to leave!

"Charlotte," he snapped me out of my daze. "You're being weird. Can I have my paper back so I can leave?"

I didn’t even realize I was clutching his paper so tight that it was almost crumpled. But I finished checking it in seconds. He made like two or three mistakes. It wasn’t too bad.

His leaving was very bad, though.

"Oh okay," I tried to hide the sadness in my voice. "I'll walk you out."

And I did walk him out.

We were in front of his motorcycle. Yes, he drives one. He chucked his bag inside and turned to me. "Thanks again for that, Charlotte."

I stared at him blankly. "For what?"

"The tutorial," Oh. "You are being extremely strange, Lottie. So absent-minded lately. What's wrong?" Liking you is wrong.

I shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I'm just exhausted. You know, the whole day with dad and late-night tutorial with you. Count on the swimming the other night. It's just—I just need to sleep this off." I blabbered.

He seemed convinced by it. Since when did he become so gullible? It's frustrating!

"If that's the case, you go to sleep now. I'll be going. Thanks again!" He said as he slid inside his car.

I sighed, a little exhausted but more irritated.

I don't want him to know that I like him, but I don't want him to be so clueless about it either. What do I do with James Tucker?

I did the most rational thing to do. I slept everything off. Hoping to dream about chocolate and ice cream and not about James.

I had gotten about fifteen minutes of sleep only to hear a beeping sound.

I woke up to find myself in front of a huge door that looked very similar to the door we had on the porch. But I was inside the house. I knock but find no answer. A second knock. Still nothing. I made my way inside and turned on the lights. I awkwardly kicked off the boots I was strangely wearing. In an instant, James carefully locked the front door behind us.

"I apologize," he says quietly as he walks away.

I shouted up at the ceiling, "Mom! Dad! Hello!"

They're usually at home now. I glanced at the wall clock which did not show time but rather showed hands that ran uncontrollably around.

"Your parents aren't here. They went on vacation with my folks to France or something," James says as he enters the kitchen. "They'll be back in a few weeks."

He takes two glasses from the cupboard over the stove and fills them both with water, seeming far more at ease in my house than I did. He places one on the island in the center of the kitchen and signals for me to take a seat on the chair.

He leans across the countertop as he takes a long sip of water, watching me as he does. "How often do you find yourself wandering alone?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” I answered unconsciously.

"Your folks normally ask me over for dinner once a week since we got engaged, you know.” I let out a small gasp of shock.

"Um, how long have we been engaged?” I asked, observing all the unnatural occurrences that I had never seen or noticed before.

“Quite some time. Months, I think,” I observe James' old or aged features. His hair turned gray almost in an instant. “I remember all the phone calls I'd make to my parents simply to check in on them while they were gone. I was anxious to live with you here, alone. But it’s not so bad, after all.”

He approached me and I was back onto the countertop. I didn’t even know what to make of the situation.

“You make me feel safe, Lottie,” he says before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

Just then, another beeping sound echoes. This time it was so loud that I had to curl and cover my ears to protect them from literally exploding.