Trespassing

Trip's POV

"Ms. Coleman," I nodded to her walking in.

"Trip?" Her puzzlement didn't surprise me. I was on time for once. "Did you finally get a watch that doesn't let you be half an hour late?" Worse...

"I dragged him." Ava announced closing the door. Lydia chuckled when I was given a light push into my chair. "Sit, boy." Ava joked.

I rolled my eyes greatly. Ever since she'd been transferred into St. Joseph my life had been a daily ocean of insults, rough looks and glares. Ava had been in my high school for about a week and she was driving me nuts. I thought of her when I got home even if I wanted to be free of her.

"Did you run into each other downstairs?" Ms. Coleman asked getting her happy-go-lucky smile on.

"Not exactly..." Ava mumbled.

Lydia's eyebrow perked, "Did you two come together?"

"Yeah," I breathed. "But in separate cars." I didn't know why, but it felt like something I should clear up before she began assuming things.

"But you were together before?"

"Yes," Ava carried on. "I transferred schools and I ended up in Thomas'." Ms. Coleman smirked widely I thought all of this had been her doing—a plan that had gone perfectly, with no kinks. "I don't think my Mom looked this happy when my picture came out..." Ava whispered lowly enough for only my ears.

"That must facilitate your meetings." Lydia tried to shove the obvious joy down.

I'd say so, since we had every class together minus business, I think she had geography.

"You have no idea." I said with a little dismay.

Ava side-glanced me long and hard, there was no doe-innocence swimming there about now. If she felt insulted though luck. The only thing I'd seen of her lately were bitter glances and phony smiles. The first thing she did at St. Joseph after I left her was look for one of the most popular girls there. Once she found Valerie and her little minions, she began hanging out with them. I think since she saw Ava's picture in the magazine she'd become Valerie's new BFF. I hated seeing her with Ava—my lungs burned, I felt a deep need to give Ava a scolding glare, to let her know I was disappointed. But why would she care about what I thought? It wasn't the only thing I felt, though. There was also revolt. Ava looked fantastic to everyone from that little group. I could see through the fake cheerfulness, I saw the sadness they didn't. Her fake enthusiasm, the good mood, the forced laugh—the one she never forced around me. That's what ticked me off so much. She was miserable, yet she did it, all because her Mother wanted her too. Pft. Mothers were supposed to want what's best for us, not for themselves. If Ava's Mom was trying to live an old dream though her, I felt sorry for Ava. I wanted to get her out of the pain she put her soul though everyday but she pushed me away when I came too close...

"Thomas?" I lifted my head, both women were looking at me.

"What?" I'd been completely spaced out.

"I was asking your thoughts on Ava's adaptation in the new school."

Awful, she hates it. "She's been doing okay."

We'd agreed to keep things quiet with Lydia. I hoped this was a good reason for Ava to trust me. Ms. Coleman tapped her pen after writing down info.

"Good," if only she knew how Ava loathed it... "Have you helped her fit in?"

"I'd say so." Since the school found out about Ava's sideline-profession everyone thought me and her had slept together. I denied it at every turn, Ava too. But the rumors grew. Besides, that first day hadn't helped one bit.

"How have you helped?" Ms. Coleman said in the middle of catching her hair in a bun. I shrugged not thinking Lydia would like to know most of the school thought me and Ava were fucking each other.

"He helped me get 'in' with the popular crowd." Ava provided after some silence. "He said some nice things about me and it caught on fast."

Maybe in another occasion I would've smiled at her little lie, this once, I stayed placid. For some reason the rumor of me and Ava having sex was appalling. Not that I wouldn't like to see Ava naked, or feel her under me, all of her soft skin against mine—Ava had a rocking body that was for sure—but to have that kind of trash surrounding her? I hated it. Me, I was used to it. Not her. She didn't deserve it.

"And how have you kids been?" We shared a look.

"Fine," we said.

I watched the clock tick away as Ava opened up about the reasons behind her transfer. I didn't understand how someone who had gotten their degree in Harvard could be so stupid as to think this would lead to a deep confession from Ava. If I was a bolted safe about my problems Ava was the Pentagon. No way was this lady getting inside that girl's head. She might be hurt, wounded, but she knew how to run and turn conversations around, still, I'd seen the want and need in those chocolate eyes. She wanted someone to trust, she was tired and she wanted somewhere safe, someone who could help. Ava reminded me of Bambi, I decided.

"Help with what?" I glanced to Lydia leaving the clock alone.

"With Ava's grades," She explained until Ava cut the air with a single laugh.

She shook her head once I looked to her.

"Him? Help me with school?" Again a chuckle bounced off the walls. "You can't be serious."

Lydia held up a hand for me to close my mouth. I did so against better judgment. I thought Ava was done assuming things. It was getting quite annoying.

"Trip's grades are excellent. It doesn't matter what school he attended they never dropped... except for a little while towards the end of sophomore year and the beginning of your junior year." Ms. Coleman looked at me with intrigue. Ava had the grace of looking curious herself. "I had been meaning to ask why that was, Thomas." Because my girlfriend messed me up pretty bad and my Mom was in on it. What did they do? Better if I hang on to that. "Trip?"

I wasn't talking. The session was almost over. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut for a little longer.

"I need help in English. My teacher didn't pick Paradise Lost, so I'm drifting when it comes to that." I nearly gave Ava a 'what the fuck' look but saw her wink before Lydia shifted attentions. "Calculus is pretty awful too." Aww, wasn't that sweet? She was doing something nice for me once in her life. Hell, I'd take the chance. "Those are my worst."

"Those are my best." I smirked triumphantly. "I'll help if that's what you want."

"I thought the whole idea of going to private school was getting good grades by doing nothing." I couldn't say she was entirely wrong.

"They don't do all the work."

"It's settled then," Ms. Coleman broke our joined gaze. I didn't know about Ava but I'd forgotten about our therapist's presence. It was amazing how I lost myself in those sweet eyes. "You'll try and help Ava with her grades. This is the end of our time, I'm afraid."

As soon as we walked into the elevator Ava turned to me.

"You owe me," I frowned opening my mouth. "So you better repay me nicely. How about a study session?"

I blinked, "Right now?"

"Sure." She sparkled with enthusiasm—was she sick or something? I only studied because it helped me keep my mind off everything else. "I like to study," Ava kept her eyes on the buttons. "I used to have nice grades... before... but there's not much time for me to study. Maybe with Track practice out of the picture I'll be a little freer." Was she actually telling me this or was I dreaming it up? Maybe I'd fallen asleep during the session, could happen. "That's almost..." She didn't finish the sentence leaving me with a dumbfounded face, her cute smile helped too. "Come on, I want to see if you're actually smart, Harrington." She left me standing inside the elevator. I stared at her back, my eyes slowly danced down to her swinging hips—and Finn was right, her legs were long, so long and perfectly shaped... "Stop staring at my butt." She called spinning around meeting my gaze.

"I was staring at your legs." I stupidly stated, finally walking off after her. She giggled instead of smacking me like I thought she would. What was the deal with her? Ava looked… happy? Yeah, definitely—and why was she making my stomach feel like an ant farm? There was a constant prickling and moving—it didn't stay still for a second, not while her magnificent smile was showing, illuminating that heart shaped face of hers. How didn't people see the difference between this genuine-Ava and the fake-one? I mean, even before seeing the true Ava I knew something wasn't right with the way she acted. How could her parents stand to see a plastic daughter instead of this one?

"Your smile is like sunshine." God, did I say that out loud?

Ava's eyes got bigger before she spun on her heel hiding from me.

"You're an idiot…" She muttered sounding childish.

A moderated grin crossed my lips.

Ava's POV

My body was having some difficulties walking. Your smile is like sunshine. What a thing to say. Why would he say it? I didn't enjoy blushing and it happened too much around Thomas Harrington. And although I was suppressing it, I wanted to smile like a fan girl just because Trip said it. What was I saying about having a late tutoring session? I'd promised my blog followers more updates but now I was willingly trading blog-time for time with Thomas? True, neither blogs nor comments made electricity travel all around my body.

In the last week of school I felt a growing dislike for the people there. Valerie was my new self-proclaimed besty. My real best friend, the only one I had left, was Lindsey. She was in France, thinking of her made things worse; a little while after my sister's murder she moved with her parents to the city of romance—Paris—and I stopped having contact with her. My Mom threw her new number out before I scribbled it down some place safe. I was forbidden to have contact with her, if I did, I could end up in boarding school. It was extreme but my Mom was cold and got what she wanted by making sure the rules were clear. She was afraid Lindsey would motivate me to rebel against what was being done to me. And yes, she would do just that. She believed everyone had the right to be who they wanted and of course she knew about my long life dream to be a photographer for the National Geographic.

"Where do you want to study?" I turned slowly making sure I wouldn't break into an embarrassing smile. One, two, three… nothing, it was under control. Huff.

Thomas was so close I took a step back hitting my car. Thankfully, he was busy thinking about a place, not noticing my beat-red face.

"Your house is still out of question?"

"Yes," I answered with conviction. It was half-way into the afternoon by now, my Mom could be home any minute. "What about yours?" Thomas' eyes glued onto mine.

"I'm not feeling homesick enough to go back there just yet." I would've liked to know why he felt that way about his own house, but I didn't get a shot. "How about... your car?" Ah... I looked to the white Mazda.

"Study inside a car?" I whispered leaning my head forward, he smiled. "What?"

"Nothing," Trip shook his head to the side. I chased his gaze telling him to say it. He gave a hearty chuckle. "Your face…" He paused when another laugh made it out. "It just looked funny, that's all." It probably had, my eyes had bulged with disbelieve of what he suggested.

"Are you serious or not?" I turned the topic around.

"Sure, why not?"

"Why not? The inside of a car isn't what I'd call study-environment." I shifted my bag.

Thomas rolled his eyes taking a step aside patting the hood of my car.

"Come on, it's not so bad." It sounded like he was talking from experience. Somehow I didn't find it so mind blowing like I should have. This whole week in St. Joseph I had the chance to spy on Thomas—when I said spy I meant I saw him around in classes and in the hallways. He was a loner, he liked to be alone. Honestly, I hadn't seen anyone besides Finn having a conversation with him, or even getting near him. It was like it was a forest and he was the Alpha everyone had to be aware of, but stray clear from. Everyone but Finn, I was beginning to believe he was the innocent rabbit or something. "Trying new things is good. You never know what will come out of them."

I tapped my nail on my bag's clutch, before my hand dove in searching for the key. Trip was smiling ear to ear when I walked around to the driver's side. He slipped into the passenger's seat letting the book bag fall by his feet. I watched as he took his time pushing his seat back, messing with the recliner. I think he was only doing it to push my patience.

"Finally," I muttered.

"What do you want to start with?" A zipper sound echoed and soon a copy of Paradise Lost was being waved in front of my face, along with our Calculus book.

"English, definitely." I loathed Calculus, the more I could run from it the better. It was the one class I wouldn't mind never studying for.

"Okay," Thomas reclined in the seat dropping the Calculus book. "What do you know about Paradise Lost?"

What did I know? Yeah…

"It was written by John Milton and… it has to do with the… huh… apocalypse?"

I would've laughed at Thomas' stoked expression if I didn't feel embarrassed.

"How much have you read of this?"

"Truth?" He nodded. "Nothing…" It was true, I hadn't had the time. Between making new friends in high places and my modeling sessions, time was scarce.

"Jesus…" He breathed, my cheeks got redder, this time a little because of anger. "It has nothing to do with the apocalypse. Why would you think that?"

"Well, isn't Satan the main character?" I think I'd heard Mr. Phil say that in class a few days back.

"He is." Ah! Score. "But it's not about the apocalypse." He just couldn't let me bask in my temporary moment of happiness, could he?

"Then what is it about, Mr. Know-it-at-all?"

"It's about the fall of Mankind. What led God to kick Adam and Eve out of Eden—paradise." Huh, that shut me up. "Take out a notebook."

"W-what?" I asked dumbly like instead of being asked something perfectly normal I'd been asked to jump off a bridge.

"A notebook and a pen—you have those, right?"

I scrunched my nose at the mockery coming from my newly assigned tutor, while I reached for the things he asked for in the back.

"Write 'characters' on top of the page." He tapped his finger onto the first line once I'd settled with the notebook in my lap. I did as he said. "Let's start with Satan…"

He began to speak for the longest time. Just about Satan—and I listened like a little girl being told a story at the local library. His voice was husky and deep, I wondered if he made it sound like that on purpose… it made me hang on to every word that came out of his mouth. It wasn't the only reason why I paid attention. Trip actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about. In fifteen minutes I'd wrote down most of Satan's character analysis. Starting with the reason for his expulsion out of Heaven—his pride—ending with his demented self by the end of the poem. I was amazed how Thomas knew the character so well.

"So," I mumbled when he finished ranting about Adam's love for Eve. "Is Satan your favorite?"

A hazel eyebrow pushed up, "I think most people view him as a favorite. He's easy to identify with, especially when you're a teenager. All the doubts and weaknesses he tried to overcome… though his goal's evil we have sympathy for him. The fact that he's such a complex character is what draws readers in, what causes us to sympathize with him. Because like us—humans—he's tridimensional. He has flaws, qualities—he struggles with himself." There it was again. He talked about it so fluently…

"Are you sure you're not Satan?" I joked poking the tip of his nose with the blue cap of my pen.

He smirked.

"I wouldn't deny it." Trip's face shifted into a mischievous one, his hand advanced over to my seat and I jumped smiling when he tried to grab the pen from me. I shrunk away with a light squeal, pushing my notebook in front of myself as an attempt to swat him. "You're ticklish?" I heard him ask above my loud laughs.

Yes, I was. My body turned and turned, but I couldn't get far from Thomas' arms or hands, the studying material fell away forgotten. I was being pulled from my seat; Trip wasn't giving up no matter how much I begged him to.

"Please—" He shook his head. I shook my head letting out a hysterical laugh; the skin that made up my cheeks was burning. His fingers were dancing on my top's material—I felt a breeze, then a surge of some sort. "Huh…" I moaned through a chuckle. His fingers were touching me, really touching me—my stomach.

I glanced up as my head was pressed up into his chest. He glanced down. Our eyes mirrored the confusion. Trip's fingers were short-circuiting my every cell, burning them over and over. My brain was nearly overloaded when his arm brushed up mine. This kind of power… no one had ever had it on me before. It was amazing—and scary. It scared me to all new levels, as it excited me.

"Sorry," Thomas breathed, his chest emptied out the air and I felt myself growing even closer to him—to his body. The heat coming off of it was spectacular… "I shouldn't have done that."

I know. I should've stopped you. I wanted to say. I couldn't, just as I hadn't been able to stop his tickling attack.

"Don't worry about it." My hands traveled down to where his were, settling them on top of his. I had a growing desire of rubbing my thumbs along the smooth surface of his knuckles. The hardness of his chest pressed against me—my shoulders. I refused to tilt my head up. I knew he'd be too close for comfort. His breath was hovering over my head, steadily. "Yeah, you could be Satan…" I whispered.

It earned me a chuckle from the boy holding me.

"Before or after the fall?" I couldn't hold my head in place—it tilted. Shimmering blues met me and I did my best to hold in a breath. If his eyes were jewels they'd be the most expensive ones yet… like that beautiful blue diamond from Titanic.

"Before, definitely before," Thomas' nose was touching my forehead by now. I traced the hairline with my eyes, focusing on anything but his eyes—or mouth… had I really been staring at it? Damn, what was going on inside me…? "Wanna do Calculus next?"

The heaved phrase didn't catch his attention; to be honest it was a total last resort on my part. I didn't want to do anymore study. Not when my body was bristling with little jolts that sent every fiber inside me spiraling. Trip's nose was gone—before I could take a breath to show relief I felt a smooth, hard thing against the side of my head. His cheek—then my whole body coiled with nervousness and anticipation. His lips brushed up below my ear.

"Do you really want to think about slopes and tangents?" Those words had nothing dirty about them or special even, it was the way he spoke them… heatedly and huskily. It made me relax deeper into him, faintly Thomas' shoulders rolled forward, his arms framed me a little tighter. "Ava…" He said my name in some sort of crave.

My fingers were about to twine in his when all of a sudden every bit of magic shattered.

"Your phone…" I rasped, and then hastened to clear my throat. "It's vibrating, you should get that." Of course for that I'd have to move from his lap.

With a raged sigh, Thomas moved me off him gently, muttering something incoherent while I thanked God for whoever was dialing him. What had I been doing just two seconds ago? One hand landed on my steering wheel, gripping it, nails carving so deeply I was afraid to leave marks, the other hand pressed into my head making sure I still had one.

My eyes flickered to Trip when I didn't hear him speak. He was just putting his phone away and now I wondered who'd been calling. Did they stop or did he reject it? I was being too curious, the guy was entitled to his privacy. It wasn't like I was going to ask, though.

Our eyes found each other for the total of five seconds—none of us looked away. Pride was a constant in both our personalities.

"I should…"

"I should go." Thomas finished what I'd been trying to say. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Huh, tomorrow is Saturday." I managed without stammering.

"Monday then," he yanked his backpack from the floor before hanging by the Mazda's open door; he leaned forward apparently wanting to say something, then leaned backwards mutely. "Yeah, see you then." Smack—I watched him walk away to his own car through the review mirror.

That wasn't awkward at all. Nope, not at all…