The Perfect Balance

Chapter 3

Upon arriving to the second floor, I find that the dog is a large one. It's a predominantly black German Shepherd with small tufts of dark brown fur. Though it's on a leash, it seems to take a liking (or disliking) to me. The boy holding the leash is surprised as the dog jolts forward in my direction. I immediately take a step back, readying myself to run downstairs and outside if need be. However, the guy manages to keep the dog at bay with a sharp tug. The canine doesn't even flinch at the pulling but returns to its owner's side, lying on the ground in it's previous position. I look up at the boy who has the dog's chain leash wrapped around his hand. I find that he too is looking at me.

He's tall, definitely taller than me but no taller than 6'3". I can't see properly so it's hard to tell. It also doesn't help that he's leaning against the wall beside his new room. His hair is a dark, jet black color, contrasting from his tan skin, but in a nice way...a very nice way. He's slim and tall, but not lanky. He's not what one would describe as a string bean. Instead, he appears to be built in a way that isn't too intimidating. What makes him intimidating is the somewhat mischievous look in his eyes, which I quickly lock onto. I've been trying to avoid making eye contact with him but when I do, it's hard to look away. His eyes are a mix between green and brown, creating a hazel hue. They're average size and are hidden by a fan of lashes. His thick but neat eyebrows furrow and his full mouth purses slightly as he assesses me. His gaze is captivating but in a way that makes my skin burn; it makes me want to look away in discomfort because he's attractive.

You'd think I'd see more of this stranger, seeing as his father and mine are the best of friends and have been since we were in middle school, but it seems to be the opposite. I only ever see him in school and when I do, it's rare. So far this year, after only two weeks of being in school, he's been in class a total of roughly two times. After he got kicked out on the second day, he stopped showing up altogether. Maybe he dropped the class or maybe he just doesn't bother with it. Come to think of it, I have both of my first period classes with him and he doesn't show up to either of them. Maybe he just likes to sleep in and come to school in time for second period.

If I remember correctly, his name is-. "Orion," my father cuts off my thoughts. I turn to look at him, breaking eye contact with the familiar stranger. "You remember Diego, right?" my dad asks, looking from me to the boy who is now kicking off our wall. I glance down at his boots, which are black and surprisingly clean. Rather than answering verbally, I just nod. "Diego, do you remember my daughter? Orion?"

He nods slowly as he stares at me and I look at my dad before pointing to my room. "I'm going to go study," I tell him and my voice slightly cracks. My father waves a brow but nods.

"We'll be sure to keep it down," my father assures me. I cross the hall and open the door to my room, glancing back one last time to find Diego staring at me. I quickly shut my door and look at my carpet. Oh boy.

+++

I don't see much of Diego for the rest of the night. I manage to shower without anyone banging on the door complaining about having to pee. It's odd- enjoyable- but odd. I'm grateful that my family has made the decision to behave on the first night of our new house guest being here. Hopefully, it's like this for the next month. I can definitely get used to it.

I's not until I'm all showered and clean that I realize I need access to the large desk in Diego's new room. I need to get my school work and even my personal notebooks. I'm suddenly scared to have to cross the hall and knock. I contemplate whether or not I should just wait until the following day before I realize that I have a calculus test on Tuesday that I need to study for.

Getting off my bed, I walk towards my door and yank it open. It's your house, Orion. You can go into whatever room you want! I venture across the hall and stand in front of his door, rubbing my hands against my pants before gaining the courage to knock. His dog, whose name I've yet to learn, starts to growl but immediately quiets down after a muffled command sounds from behind the door. There's a shuffling noise and the door opens. Diego stands before me wearing sweatpants and nothing else. I blink a few times, feeling my face heat up when I realize I'm standing before a shirtless guy. I can't help but notice how smooth his skin looks. I mean, I'm face to chest with his collarbones and neck. How could I not notice? It's tan and it looks very soft but also solid and definitely toned. I have the urge to touch him but I refrain. I can see a light colored scar stretching across the area beneath his finely carved collarbone and I start to hypothesize how he could've gotten it.

"Did you come here for something or did you just want stare at me?" he asks in a deep, quiet voice. My face is already hot but it seems as if the temperature increases a few hundred degrees. I swallow heavily, struggling to form words. Why is this so difficult?

"I have some stuff in here that I need to get," I tell him. He stares at me for a few seconds before opening the door wider and stepping aside. The dog perks it's head up and he says something to it in Spanish, which results in the dog lying back down with a quiet huff. I look at him shortly before approaching the desk. My stuff isn't how it was earlier. It seems a bit more...shuffled. Rather than having my C+ paper at the top of the scattered pile, it's off to the side and the rest of my graded assignments lay spread about. "Did you touch any of this?" I ask, already knowing the answer. I know my mom wouldn't touch it. She knows how I am about my schoolwork.

"Yeah," he replies without an ounce of embarrassment or shame in his voice. Apparently, to him, going through someone's stuff isn't bad.

"Why?" I ask, slightly annoyed.

"Curiosity," he answers shortly. I stare at my papers, trying to pick out which ones to take with me to my room. I don't have time to go through every single paper here, so I'll have to choose wisely. "You're smart."

His compliment catches me off guard. I stand still for a second before continuing my search. "Thanks," I mumble quietly, unsure of what else to say. Normally, after receiving a compliment, you'd return with one, but I'm not sure what to say. 'You're physically appealing?' I don't think that would roll over too well. When I finally manage to get all of my papers gathered, I grab my C+ test and prepare to leave. Suddenly, I stop walking when I realize something. We go to the same school; I'm sure we have some of the same classes. What if he copies my work, hands it in, and gets credit for it? "You didn't take pictures of my assignments, did you?"

He stares at me from under his thick, dark lashes and a smirk breaks out on his face. I keep my eyes trained on his face, though from this distance I can clearly see his abdomen in my peripheral vision. I can see faint lines along his stomach and I wonder what it'd feel like to run my fingers across them in a tracing motion. I suddenly scold myself. What am I thinking? What's wrong with me? I don't even know this boy and I'm imagining myself touching his stomach like some p*****t.

"Tempting..." he notes and I immediately think he's heard my mental remarks about his body before I realize that we we were having something of a conversation before my intrusive thoughts, well, intruded. "The idea hadn't occurred to me but I might have to take you up on that offer."

"I-it wasn't an offer," I tell him as I clutch my papers to my chest.

He shrugs as he twirls his slim phone a few times over in his hands. He glances down at the carpet and I notice that his dog is now lying on it's back, wriggling around like it wants it's stomach rubbed. If it didn't look at me like I was a meal, I would probably pet it. I glance down and immediately correct myself. It's a boy. "Funny. You think I care enough about school to bother with copying."

I don't think to make a comment about how he should care about school. Instead, I simply continue walking out of the room. I don't want to encourage him to copy my work, even if in the process of doing it, I shed some light on the importance of education.

I manage to get in a good amount of studying before I fall asleep a little before ten. I wake up at one in the morning in need of something to drink. I walk downstairs, rubbing my eyes in a dazed state. I sit in the kitchen after pouring myself a glass of water. Not even a few minutes into my kitchen adventure does the sound of the front door opening cause me to stiffen. Is someone breaking in? Do I have to fight them off?

I look at the entrance of the kitchen, allowing my eyebrows to shoot upward when I see that the so called intruder is only Diego. We make eye contact and he stops short where he stands, dressed in black jeans, his combat boots, and a simple black sweater. We stare at each other for a few seconds before he advances towards the stairs, being as quiet as a mouse. I'm surprised his boots aren't clunking and clanking all over the place. As he hops up the steps, practically no sound is emitted and I wonder how he'd gotten so good at sneaking in and out of places. Then I realize that he probably has had a lot of practice.