Chapter 4: Unimportant
Casper's POV
"I didn't think you'd back out so quickly. What's going on?" Samson asked, clearly surprised by my decision to stop tutoring Mick. Just a few days ago, I had been eager and full of confidence about it. Now, however, my enthusiasm had dwindled, all thanks to Rex.
The thought of tutoring Mick meant I'd have to see Rex frequently, and that was the last thing I wanted. It was already a hassle that he lived right next door. My plan was to maintain my distance and act as if he didn't exist.
"To set the record straight, it's not that I'm afraid or anything like that; I simply don't want to do it anymore," I replied. I didn't mention that my reluctance stemmed from the desire to avoid Rex. That was information Samson didn't need.
Samson's room resembled mine since we lived in the same apartment. He was a football enthusiast and a huge Messi fan, which was evident in his decor. A large poster of Messi dominated the wall above his bed, flanked by a few football stickers. In one corner, a standee of Messi waved cheerfully. His room was tidy, with everything in its rightful place, and there was a subtle scent of cigarettes lingering in the air.
Yeah, Samson does smoke. He's not hooked on it, though; I hardly ever see him in the act. I think he keeps it to his room, away from others.
"Wait, so now you just want me to tutor him, out of the blue?" He said, making air quotes around 'just.' He settled back in his chair, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and tossing it onto the table.
I nodded, "That's pretty much it. Are you in?"
"No the fuck not? I'm not going to tutor Mick just because you can't. I have too much on my plate," he replied, unlocking his phone.
I let out a sigh. "What do you want in exchange?"
He smirked slowly, "You should have kicked off this conversation like that, my friend."
"You're impossible."
He chuckled softly, "I thought we both realized that? But hold on, let's not hash out the payment just yet. I need to meet him first," he added.
"Why's that?" I inquired.
"What if he's irritating? Or even worse, too serious? I can't handle that," he explained.
From my limited interactions with Mick, I wouldn't label him as annoying. In fact, he's quite polite, but I can't guarantee he'll behave the same way around Samson. Why? Because Samson has a knack for getting under anyone's skin.
"I doubt he's any of that. I mentioned it to him, and he was on board, so you'll meet him tomorrow morning."
"You already told him? What if I had said no?"
"Cash."
"You've got a point there," he chuckled."
I felt a wave of relief wash over me when Mick and Samson gave their approval. Initially, Mick seemed perplexed, repeatedly asking why I was no longer willing to tutor him. This left me pondering whether Rex had kept our connection a secret from him.
Should I feel grateful that Rex didn't share anything about us with his friend, or should I be disheartened that I wasn't significant enough for him to mention?
I suspect the reason Mick accepted the change without further inquiry was my mention of his new tutor being a second-year student, which he saw as a benefit.
After spending some time at Samson's place, I finally made my way back to my apartment. I shut the door behind me, and my stomach promptly reminded me that it needed food. Feeling exhausted, I opted to order takeout.
A few minutes later, the delivery person arrived. I went downstairs, signed for the food, and was about to head back in when I spotted Rex approaching. In a panic, I turned away and hurried back inside. I really hoped he hadn't seen me. As I ascended the stairs, I could hear footsteps trailing behind me. I quickened my pace, gripping the food tightly. Once I reached the hallway, the footsteps were still there, echoing behind me.
"So, he was correct?" I heard his deep voice resonate behind me.
I paused, inhaling deeply before turning to face him and his bright green eyes, which sparkled with curiosity.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. Was Mick right? You didn't want to tutor him because of me?" His expression remained unreadable.
"Yes, he was correct." I replied, mirroring his calm demeanor.
He tilted his head slightly to the left, "Why is that?"
I scoffed. "Why? Have you really forgotten what went down in high school?" Was he trying to make a joke?
"What happened in high school?" he inquired.
Is he really serious? Had he genuinely erased those memories? It stung a bit.
"It's irrelevant now." I turned away, heading toward my apartment door, and he followed closely behind.
"It matters if you're acting strange about it." He remarked as we reached the door.
I turned to face him, my frown deepening. "Who says I'm being strange? You're the one bombarding me with questions."
"And you still haven't answered any of them." He replied, crossing his arms defiantly.
"Well, forgive me for not jogging your memory, your highness." I shot back.
"There's nothing to jog because nothing significant happened in high school. So I'm puzzled as to why you're reacting this way." His green eyes locked onto mine.
Right. Nothing significant. I'm just overreacting, making a big deal out of nothing. I must be foolish.
"You're right; nothing of importance occurred. So just drop the endless questions and leave me the fuck alone." I said, trying to keep my voice from betraying the sadness I felt inside.
I swung the door open and stepped inside. Making my way to the kitchen counter, I placed the food down with a thud. Perhaps he has a point. Perhaps it really doesn't matter. Maybe I'm just looking for someone to hold accountable for my unrequited feelings. For my own cowardice.
I let out a sigh. I ought to be more like him; he's completely forgotten about it all. It's been just over a year, yet he doesn't recall any of it.
He doesn't even remember the kiss.