The Forbidden Fruit

I’ve finished a totally of five windows so far. My arm was hurting and so were my calves from standing on the tops of my toes for so long. Derrick cleared his throat and I looked at him.

“I was just thinking.” He paused, looking up from the stack of papers.

“Yes?” I prodded him, stopping my window cleaning.

“Well, you could baby-sit Troy in exchange for a detention.”

I went back to my window cleaning, my sore arm screaming at me not to, “Whatever.”

“Why are you so… unresponsive?” He asked, grading a paper.

“Because I just gave up caring, Mr. Ward.”

“Gave up caring about what?” He asked, looking up at me through his hair.

“Everything. It’s not worth my time to worry about you or however many detentions I have.”

“Why’d you stop caring about me?”

“Because!” I said, setting the Windex down, “You always go and then stop. I’m always led on by you!”

“That’s not true.” He said, grading another paper.

“Yes it is.” I said, picking the Windex back up and sprayed the final window.

“How so?” He challenged.

“Well, you hit on me, then pushed me away. Then you kissed me and then freaked out. Lastly, you came to my house, telling me you liked me and then said ‘oh, sorry, we can’t be together.’ and left.” I mocked his voice.

“Well we can’t!” He said, still grading his paper.

“I don’t want to get into this right now.” I sighed, wiping the last of the gunk away from the last window, “I already know all of your lame excuses.”

“Losing my teaching license is not a lame excuse.” He defended, looking up at me.

“But you’re so negative about it! No one has to find out!”

“But they will, Maria.”

“How do you know?” I challenged, leaning onto his desk.

He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, “You’re done here. Please go.” He finally said.

“It’s alright.” I said, making my way to my things, “Just push me away again.”

I walked out of the door before he could reply.

---------------------

“Good, you’re home.” My Mother smiled, leading me into the sitting room.

I don’t know why we have a sitting room, because we sit in every other room, but whatever makes my Mother happy. I looked around and noticed Dave and boy who looked around my age sitting there. I politely took a seat and crossed my legs, leaning back into the chair.

“You know Dave, right Maria?” My Mom asked, smiling at him.

I nodded and forced a smile, “Hi.”

“And this is his son, Mark.”

“Okay.”

“He goes to your school.” My Mother oozed happily.

“Great.” I said, giving my Mother an overly fake smile.

“Well, we’re going on a lunch date, so I was thinking that Mark could stay here with you.”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, standing up and walked into the living room, turning on the TV.

My Mother followed, but not before flashing an apologetic smile at Dave and his son. She walked up to me and moved my shoulder so that I was looking at her.

“What has gotten into you?” She asked quietly, “I did not raise you to treat company like that.”

“I don’t like them.” I said, turning back to the TV.

“You never even met Mark.”

“I don’t like anyone who goes to my school, Mom.”

“You better be nice or else.” She warned, walking out of the room.

Mark walked in a little bit later, after checking out my house, I presume. He sat down close to me and looked interested in what I had to watch on TV.

“How long have you lived here?” He asked, turning to look at me.

“A few weeks.” I said, turning to look at him.

He had bright blonde hair with hazel colored eyes. He blinked his eyes slowly and thoughtfully. I looked down to see a vintage ‘Peace’ shirt and some ratty jeans, complete with some black Chuck Taylor’s. He seemed content with me looking at him.

“Nice.” He nodded, turning back to the TV.

His voice was soothing, yet rough, almost as if he hit the bong one too many times. His words flowed together as if they were sewed in the back of his throat. I realized I was staring at him and turned my attention back to the TV, swallowing. I felt him glance at me and tried to ignore it, flipping the channels. Blinking, I took my chances and looked at him. He smiled and came closer to me.

“You’re very pretty.” He said, kissing the side of my lips.

I let my eyes flutter close and pretended Mark was actually Derrick.