When Perfect Meets Crazy novel Chapter 8

He didn’t show up the following day. Or the day after. I wasn’t entirely sure where etiquette stood on stalkers but since we didn’t exchange phone numbers, I couldn’t exactly call to find out why. To be honest, it was a good thing for him because I went to my tutoring job and while I didn’t know his specific tastes, I was willing to bet he wouldn’t be a fan of standing in the sun for ninety minutes since I wasn’t going to take him into the house with me. Not in a million years, not ever. News that I brought an unknown boy to the Davidsons’ home could very easily reach my parents since they were part of my parents’ close knit circle. He didn’t know it but he chose to perfect days to not show up. Or maybe he did and that was the point. I couldn’t know for sure. Unfortunately, the one thing I was sure of was that his absence wasn’t a sign he had given up. I definitely hoped to God it was but I wasn’t big on lying to myself. I needed my facts straight in any given situation. It was one of the lessons my mom had drummed into my head growing up. He was probably just occupied with more pressing matters. As a criminal and heaven knew what else, there was no way he was short on those.

Despite that theory, I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder every time I stepped out. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched and it only got worse as the day progressed. I was beyond relieved as I stepped into my house, safe from the malicious gaze that had followed me around. If it turned out to be Masked Idiot, he was going to get it from me. I had been jumpy all day. Me, cool, calm and collected Avy.

Unfortunately, I got held up finalizing plans for the debate and working out the kinks for an interschool quiz. Another last hurrah before graduation. The quiz was between my school and our long-time rival, Westler High. For some reason, both schools had been rivals since the beginning of time. Unfortunately for Westler, since my sophomore year when I started representing my school, we’ve continuously been beating them. The quiz was a last ditch attempt to salvage their dignity following the three-year thrashing they had received. Not that it would amount to anything more than another thrashing since as I wasn’t going to lose.

My mother was less than pleased with my lateness. It had been tense between us since the fighting arena turned late dinner escapade and with the whole listicle elope-with-your-boyfriend thing but since I had a rock solid reason, she settled for a scowl as opposed to pulling out a trick from her patented Bring Your Child To Tears handbook.

A tense atmosphere descended during dinner and I focused on not making any blunders. It was the kind of silence that told you loud and clear that the other person was looking for any excuse to pick a fight. I was determined not to give her one. Luckily, Olly stepped into the diffuse the tension with a recount of her soccer match. I wisely kept my opinions to myself, remaining silent till the end of the affair. I definitely wasn’t going to give my mom a bone to pick. I even politely offered to take care of the plates although it wasn’t my day.

With a sigh of relief at having avoided a confrontation, I trudged upstairs with my mother trailing behind me. We parted ways at the head of the stairs.

“Good night, Mom.” I smiled.

“Good night.”  She waved me away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Avy, one. Mom, zero.

I shut my room door behind me and fell back, propping myself against it.

“Okay. I’m good,” I muttered softly, releasing my breath on a sigh before straightening up and reaching for the light switch. “That wasn’t so bad. I just have to be on time for the rest of the week. I can do that.”

I flicked the switch, flooding the room with light. I automatically squinted, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the--

“Ahhhh!” A terrified scream burst out of my mouth as I violently jumped back.

There wasn’t much jumping room behind me so I ended up smacking my elbow against the door.

“Ouch! Shit!” I cussed quietly, rubbing my elbow.

My eyes, however, remained fastened on the figure lounging on my bed.

“What is it?” Mom called out in a voice tinged with just the littlest bit of apprehension and irritation.

My eyes widened in horror as my brain blanked out for a full second. Oh sweet baby Jesus.

The absolute last thing I needed right now was for her to come investigate. I had a boy in my room. On my bed. That wasn’t going to go down well. Thankfully, my brain kicked back in with a lie.

“Nothing! Cockroach!” I yelled back, fervently praying she missed the quiver in my voice. “Flying cockroach,” I embellished. Please don’t come here. Please don’t come here. Please don’t.

I strained my ears for any indication that she was coming to confirm for herself. All I heard was a hiss followed by, “Grow up, Avyanna. Jesus Christ, it’s just a roach. Act your age, will you!”

The contents of my stomach plummeted in despair.

“Sorry, Mom,” I called out. “Good night!”

The greeting went unanswered for obvious reasons. She wasn’t pleased with me at the moment. At least she wasn’t coming to check things out for herself.

Despair quickly turned to anger as my gaze once again found the boy lounging casually on my bed.

“I. Will. Kill. You.”

“That threat’s pretty old. Uninspired. Lazy. Recycled. You can do better. Spice it up,” he said, lazily brushing lint off his clothes. And onto my bed. Did he just imply I was an uncreative plagiarizer?

I arched an eyebrow, staring pointedly at the movement of his hand.

“I’ll crush you in a trash compactor and make soup out of your remains,” I adjusted. “Better?”

“Much.” He sneered, lips curling back to reveal a smile with too much teeth to be anything but threatening. “And what is with you and making soup out of things?”

“What the fuck are you doing here this late?” I bit back. “Besides trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Heart attack?” He rolled his eyes. “Being a little dramatic, aren’t we? Besides, last I checked, heart attacks involved less screaming and more... quiet dying.”

“Really, doc? I had no idea. Thank you for the lesson.”

“Is that sarcasm I hear?” His lips tugged into a wry grin. Like he couldn’t help himself. “Let’s not forget who the scary big bad is here, shall we? You might want to be a bit more polite.”

“Scary big bad?” I arched a brow. “And I’m supposedly the uncreative one who recycles outdated phrases.”

Even my grandma wouldn’t say something as dated as ‘scary big bad.’

He scowled.

I rolled my eyes dismissively and flew into action. In three seconds, I was by the bed, slapping his feet off, then the rest of him.

“Let’s not make a habit of this,” I warned, staring pointedly at the bed.

“What would ‘this’ be exactly?” He fixed his shirt and straightened to his full height. “The heart attack bit or laying on your bed?”

“Both,” I snapped. “Now get to work.” I inclined my head in the direction of the bed.

“What?” he asked, wide eyed with confusion.

“Fix it,” I expanded.

“You’re joking,” was his less than brilliant comeback.

“Not even a little.”

He arched one incredulous brow. I stared back flatly.

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffed.

I steadily met his gaze.

The first time he was in my room, he did the exact same thing and I had to fix my bed afterwards. I wasn’t doing that again. He made the mess, he should to clean it up. I didn’t even like the idea of him sitting on my bed, much less lying on it. The last thing I was going to do was encourage his behaviour by cleaning up after him. Besides, our stalking agreement clearly needed ground rules. The first of which would be no snitching and no sneaking up on me. The bed rule could come in second.

“Come on,” he sputtered. “You can’t be serious.”

I arched an eyebrow, maintaining my unyielding position. I was Avyanna Johnson. I wasn’t going to lose a stare-off.

“No,” he declared, eyeing me as though I had lost my mind.

“No,” he repeated, though it seemed like it was more to convince himself than me this time.

I, for one, didn’t see what was so abnormal about having the person who scattered something fix it. In fact, as far as I knew, that was how the world worked.

“It was perfect before you came in and laid on it. It’s only fair that you fix it,” I countered.

“Wh... wha... no. No. No, I...” he sputtered, shaking his head in denial.

“No, I’ll get right on that?” I supplied, a saccharine smile on my face.

“No, I won’t,” he refuted vehemently. “I’m... I’m not doing that. I’m...”

I arched one perfect eyebrow, tilting my head to the side as I waited for something remotely intelligent to come out of his mouth.

“I’m the bad guy here.”

I couldn’t not roll my eyes. He couldn’t have come up with a dumber response if he tried.

“Really? I thought you were the tooth fairy. She breaks into people’s rooms and usually heads straight for their beds too, you know?” My voice was laden with enough sarcasm to drown a small village. 

“I’m... a criminal.” He stumbled over the last word, like it was hard for him to label himself as one which was mind boggling given all that he had done so far. Between the illegal fight club, stalking an innocent girl and breaking and entering, he was racking up quite the rap sheet.

He wore an expression that made it clear he thought ‘I’m a criminal’ was reason enough to not fix my bed. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t see what one thing had to do with the other.

“I don’t need the reminder. Trust me, I couldn’t forget that even if I tried. Now, get to laying the bed.” I nodded at the bed, an unyielding look on my face.

“What kind of girl are you?” he hissed, exasperation coloring his tone.

“The kind whose bed you’re about to fix.”

He scoffed. I stared him down.