Author's Note: Hello to all my wonderful readers! Thank you sooo much for reading this story all the way to this chapter and hopefully to the next few more :D I want to thank you all soo much! I've been checking out my homepage and found out that a lot of people had added this to their Library :D Thank you, you guys! And I was thinking if maybe I should put some vote or comment goal before I upload the next chapters. Anyways, I was just thinking about it, I don't know yet. Well, 'nuff rants. Let's read! I hope you guys will like this!
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Chapter Twenty-six
I paced. I haven’t been inside my room for almost a week or so. And I’m scared on how it might look like. Greasy wall, stained carpets, unmade bed, the thoughts give me a shudder. I’ve never really intended to go to his room, which used to be mine but there’s question I needed to be answered. For example, why does he need to know what happen to me when I left at the cafeteria? I mean, sure I left, but the school bell was ringing so I left for my next class. And what does he mean that I’ll figure it out? Is this some kind of a puzzle or something? Is there something he knows that I don’t? And how did he, Clark, and Tommy seemed like the best buddy if they hadn’t been with each other’s company for years, or months at the least, and that’s speaking for him and Tommy; Clark can blend in quite easy to tell the truth.
I sighed and knocked on the door. Silly me, why am I even here anyway? I could just wait for tomorrow. He’s probably busy with homework or maybe he’s in the shower. There’s a lot of reason to left, but none seemed convincing to me, honestly. I could have list a dozen, a hundred reasons why I would leave and head back to bed and sleep, but something in me told me to stay. And wait.
For after seemed like half an hour waiting. There was no answer. I knocked again. No answer. For the thousandth time, I knocked. Still no answer.
I have the right to open every door in this house because I live here. But when I turned the door knob to my old room and where Nathan was bunking in, I kind of feel guilty on invading his personal space.
It was the same room that I left but still, I’m not expecting to see this room this way. It was tidier the last time I saw it. The bed sheets were in hospital corners and tucked in very neatly. This guy has a future on housekeeping in the future. A possible profession he could try to tackle. I moved around. Nothing much was changed except for the curtains and bed sheet that Mum probably replaced from pastel pink to electric blue. The wardrobe was well stuffed with designer clothes for men.
So he has cash. It explains that mall thing. And how easy and confident he seemed to lend me some. And to notice, some of the clothes were new; still not used! This is odd; he’d been here for what? A week or two? And almost all of his clothes are new and designer type. Shrew!
What caught my eye was a cross bow. Like the old type of crossbow that made your knees wobble when you caught sight of it. The tips of it was really pointy, I could tell that it’s sharpened daily. And, they’re all red. Yikes! I wish my Mum didn’t home a fraud! I seriously hope not. And it seems like it’s the kind of arrows you’d use for doing crimes and hurting people. Oh God, how many people had he hurt? Panic struck in. What if he saw me here? What if he thinks I’m stalking him and giving tips on the police? Oh my, he’s going to murder me. I need to get out of here. Fast!
But too late. He cleared his throat sending me to jump in surprise. Oh sweet loving mother of Zeus, please help me! Wait? Sweet loving mother of who? Whoa, I did not just say, or thought, that!
“What do you think you’re doing here?” Nathan asked. He tried to hide the irritation behind his tone, but I heard it alright.
“Sorry,” I said, raising my hands in defeat. “Sorry, you weren’t answering my knocks, obviously you’re out, but I wanted to see my old room, ya know? And your door’s not even locked! So technically, it isn’t my fault and I live here, I could come in to every room I want.”
Obviously, he’s madder than a bull in red. His eyes stricken then his eyes darted to his crossbow. I inched closer to it and kneeled down to touch it, but no to avail. “Don’t touch it,”
I pulled my hands along with me fingers away, “Sorry,” I muttered. Mostly, I hated saying Sorry, but to him, it felt like an exception. It’s like, I just need to, ya know, right?
Then his eyes become softer. Gentle like. His eyes sparkled like some baby’s eyes do when something shiny or nice caught their eye. “No, I’m sorry. That was really harsh of me,”
Whoa! Bi-polar much? Just a minute ago, I swear I scared to death that he might murder me for touching his precious crossbow, and now he’s saying sorry? That’s epic, in a way.
“No, I should be the one saying sorry,” I said. Why did I just say that? Someone is taking over my mouth! “I mean, I’d be mad too if I find someone touching my things in my room.”
Someone. Is. Taking. Through. My. Mouth! Help!
He shook his head to dismiss whatever thoughts he formed. “Well, I know you’re not only here for your room. So fire on, ask whatever you have to ask,”
I closed my eyes. What was my question again? Argh! I just couldn’t walk away or leave, it’s my house, and my old room for crying out loud. I chewed my lips; he’s waiting for me to ask something. Come on brain! Think! I know that I’m not smart or genius of some sort, but for once work! Think! Think of a question!
“So you play, or use crossbow?” I blurted out. Duh! The answer was pretty obvious.
“Yep, for almost all my life,” He simply said. He motioned me to sit in the bed, but I didn’t. Instead, I sat on the floor. I could see the worn spot here, the pace corner I used to have.
“Can you teach me how? I mean, I know a very low number of sports, I do not excel on whatever academic stuff people brags about, and I definitely don’t know how to play a single instrument,” I said. Did I just summarize an un-professional bio of me? Yippee! Note the sarcasm.
“Well, it won’t be that easy actually. It needs perfect math,” I groaned but he flowed on, “It needs perfect angular moment, and flexibility.
“Well, we could try, ya know? And if you think I’m not excelling on it, we could stop right on the spot,” I said. To be real and true honest, I don’t fancy learning it. I don’t even know I like shooting crossbow. I just used it for a small talk topic. I didn’t actually mean to really learn how to use it, but maybe it could be a good thing, I guess. I mean, it might not look that good on college application but if we’d have some crazy gym do-your-sport thing, I wouldn’t have to fret to do right? And besides, how hard can it be?
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If I Believe
Teen FictionIanna, your typical teenager never believed in Myths, or legends, or even fairytales. Bitter much? Well, she was perfectly sure that myths doesn't really exist (is not real!) until she met Nathan, a typical looking boy, who was truthfully, Eros(Cupi...
