Kissing You That Friday Night

The door bell rings, it's Friday night, 4:02 pm. It's Aiden. I wasn't planning on him actually showing up because I had tried to ignore him and make sure he didn't ask for an address, but no, he found me. I look through the peep hole and see a dark haired figure holding a red folder. I take a deep breath and open the door.
"Hello." Aiden peers inside the house.
"Hi." I say and stare at him without moving.
"Can I come in?" He asks politely.
"I don't know, can you?" I say seriously, only he laughs. I wasn't joking around. I open the door wider for him to come him.
He takes off his jacket and slings it over the coat rack by the door and looks around the kitchen and family combination room.
"Wow." He says quietly. "Nice place." He plops down on the leather couch in the family room. "Where's you're family?"
"Out." I state simply without details.
He has no further questions as he opens his folder and pulls out a few papers and hands them to me. "Here's what I found online about Sac Fungi. I think it's pretty legit, so I guess we can just roll with it. It has some good info."
"Alright." I say and sit on the arm chair next to the couch.
He looks at me, with his arms crossed across his chest. I'm getting weirded out at this point because he hasn't stopped looking at me.
"What?" I gaze around the room trying not to make anymore eye contact with him.
"I don't know, you tell me."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, why have you been acting so weird around me. You barely talk to me at all in school. Though you're like a thesaurus for different forms of the word 'okay'" He leans foward with his elbows on his knees and this hands clasped together.
There is an awkward silence and all I hear is the crackling of the fireplace we have on every Friday night. "I don't know." I actually begin to look back on all the times we've talked and for the past few days, he's said nothing to offend me, well sorta. He's actually tried to be nice, for the most part.
"I've been having a rough time lately." I half lie. Most things are great now that I'm going to the dance with Ricky, but family life, not so great. but I'm not about to give him the 411 on my life.
"I see." He says and leans back on the sofa again. Jeez, does he know how to sit still?
"So you're not going to try to pester me into telling you what's wrong?" I question him. I've only said a few sentences to him since he got here and in total it's probably more than I've ever talked to him in the past week and a half I knew of his existance.
"No, I can't force you to tell me anything. But I understand where you're coming from." He says.
"What?! Don't waltz right in here and think you know where I'm coming from!" I yell at him.
"Fine, then tell me where you're coming from."
"FINE!" I yell back and then calm my voice down a little more. "My mom died four years ago. Leaving me and my father and Emma, my sister, to fend for ourselves. My dad found a great job with the Daily Herald as a journalist and we managed to still be able to afford to live here. A year ago he met my stepmom, Laura, and got married six months later. Everything sucks because Laura doesn't know shit about me and to be honest, I don't want another mom. No one can take my mother's place in my familes heart, no matter how broken we are. My dad just lost his job and now I don't even know if we can afford to send me to the Academy of Artmenship this summer." I take a deep breath because I'm pretty sure I spewed that all out without even breathing inbetween sentences.
Aiden smiles at me.
"What?" I ask as he continues to smile at me weirdly, "What!? What did you do?"
"I did nothing." He shrugs.
That's when I understood what he was trying to do. Make me mad by saying he understood me so I would let him know what's up. I have to admire that.
"Clever. I would have never thought of that."
He shrugs again and then looks down. "Oddly enough, I do no where you're coming from."
"Really?" I question and lean foward in my chair. "Enlighten me."
"My parents died in a car accident when I was 8. I spent 3 years of my life going from foster home to foster home, making friends and breaking friends. Now, I'm here. The Clarkson's, my foster parents, tell me I'm not going anywhere. They say they like me, and they let me live with them, and well, that's all I can ask. It's nice. They care, Lai." He chokes out the last few sentences but doesn't show any sign of crying.
My heart starts pounding because I suddenly feel so much sympathy for him. All this time I thought he was some stuck up kid who was going to be popular and care about no one but himself.
"I never even learned to ride a bike..." He finishes suddenly.
I look up at him with caring eyes. "Really?"
He grins, "No."
"Ugh, you're terrible." I say and throw a pillow at him. He laughs and throws one back. "Did you make up that whole story?"
"No, that's all true. It was just getting too misty eyed feeling in here and for a second it seemed like you actuially cared and had a soul, which isn't even possible-" He laughs.
I throw another pillow at him, only harder this time.
He laughs harder and I smile and giggle.