Chapter 6: Just the Help
The second he saw me, Tyler, who’d just been smiling, instantly turned cold.
His shoulders tensed, the mask snapping back in place. It was like someone flipped a switch and the room dropped ten degrees.
He pressed his lips together, glaring at me with annoyance. His brow furrowed right away.
You’d think I’d just ruined the best day of his life. Maybe I had.
But Mia Harris was friendly. She turned to me, blinking curiously.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and grinned. "Is this your sister?" she asked, trying to smooth things over.
“You know Tyler?”
“Are you two friends? Are you out on a date tonight?”
She winked, teasing just enough to make me blush.
I was about to answer, but Tyler cut me off right away.
“No.”
His voice was a little anxious, like he was desperate to draw a line between us.
“Of course not. She’s just the housekeeper at my place. Just a kid my grandpa picked up from the group home… She’s not a friend at all.”
He spat the words out, and I felt them sting more than I expected. I looked down at my sneakers, wishing the floor would swallow me up.
…
As soon as he finished, I heard the system take an awkward breath. Even the main girl, Mia Harris, looked a little embarrassed. She glanced at me apologetically, then checked her Apple Watch and tried to help me out.
She gently reached out, squeezing my arm. "You okay?" her eyes seemed to say.
“Can’t a housekeeper be a friend?”
“What’s with that attitude?”
“Besides, she looked for you all afternoon. If you’re going out, you should at least let someone know.”
“Don’t do this again, or you’ll just make things harder for everyone.”
Her voice was gentle and soft. Even though she was scolding him, it didn’t sound harsh at all.
She really is the main girl. Even to a stranger like me, she was willing to speak up kindly and patiently.
I felt a little braver, standing next to her, like maybe I wasn’t invisible after all.
Thanks to Mia Harris, Tyler, who was on the verge of a meltdown, calmed down again. He lowered his head and quietly packed up his things, slung the drawing board over his shoulder, shot me a glance, and strode ahead.
He moved with purpose, practically daring me to keep up. I hurried after him, the awkward tension trailing behind us like a bad smell.
“What are you spacing out for? Weren’t you the one who insisted I come back?”
His voice was clipped, but it was better than nothing.
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