Chapter 2. (Picture Of Jayden)

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And I finally found the perfect Jayden *Happy dance*. See the sexy guy on the side??

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Enjoy!! (hopefully) :-D

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~Jayden's Pov~

I have always been comfortable and confident about the way I look and I do notice the stares and gazes I get when I'm out and about, and I'm not gonna lie and say that I don't like it, but as I was walking home I could feel everyone's eyes following me down the road, harsh and questioning, definetly not the normal stares that I get. Usually they are aimed at my face or body but these were directed at my clothes. They do make me feel out place here even though it is just a t-shirt and jeans. I guess I can say that we are not used to seeing fancy schmansy things around here.

"What's up?" Zayne was seated on the steps that leads to our front door with a beer clutched in his hand. Zayne is the responsible (he likes to mention that alot, by the way) older brother that loves to meddle in my life.

"Been around the neighbourhood." I took a seat next to him.

He frowned."I don't think they have clothes like that hanging around the neighbourhood. Where'd you get them?"

I smirked and shrugged, deliberatly not answering him. It pisses him off when I don't answer his questions. And I like to piss people off.

Zayne rolled his eyes and shook his head like he'd rip my throat out if he could."Whatever. Mom want's to talk to you. She is in the kitchen"

I slapped his shoulder and walked inside. Our house is really small, there's two bedrooms, the small one belongs to my mother and the bigger one is mine and Zayne's. We have separted our room by placing a closet in the middle of the room, so that we can atleast have a tiny bit of privacy.

Across the hall to our bedroom is a small bathroom and toilet. The kitchen is big and compared to the rest of the house, quite nice. It's my mom's favorite room in the whole house, she would sleep in there if we let her. The living room is spacious and cosy most of our time is spent in there.

"Hey ma. You wanted to talk?" I sat on one of the wodden chairs that Zayne had bought at some garage sale or something. That's why the four chairs around the glass table are all mix matched. Two wooden chairs, one a black plastic that we have had for as long as I can remember and one a faux leather one that I had found somewhere (I honestly did find it).

"Yes." She turned around from the stove and took the chair in front of me. Noone really believes that she is 38 years old, when they find out, she looks so much younger. She has been mistaken for our older sister many times. She had my older brother when she was sixteen and me when she was twenty, which makes Zayne 22 and me 18.

Her straight blond hair reaches her shoulders, not a grey hair in sight, it is one of the things that makes her look so much younger than her age. The once lively and bright ocean blue eyes that Zayne has inherited from her, look defeated and sad. I look away.

I don't look anything like her, my face is a copy of my fathers though. The thick dark hair and eyebrows are our trademark.

My father died two years ago and it was in that time that my mom lost her spark. They really loved each other and always had this dream of us moving somewhere safe and living together for the rest of our lives. Dreams are made to be broken I guess.

Six months after my father died my mother got a job at a factory and Zayne took it upon himself to act like the main man of the house. Getting himself a job and making me feel useless whenever he had the chance. He can be an asshole sometimes.

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