No More Goody Two Shoes [Emo Love Story]

No More Goody Two Shoes [Emo Love Story] 7

Chapter Seven

When my mom picked me up in her car after school, without Chase, I got slightly worried.

"So what happened?" I asked after a second of silence.

"Well... The court decided that Chase isn't going to jail. But he has to go back to school. They didn't believe the knife wasn't his, so he has to do fifty hours of comunity service for having a weapon... And his parents are disowning him..." I almost breathed out a sigh of relief until I heard about the disowning....

"Is he gonna live on the streets?" I asked.

"Well, he'll be staying with us until the court can get in touch with a family member."

"Okay..." I said. "Is he going to school here?"

She smiled, "yup."

We were driving back towards the city, which was not the direction of our house. "Where are we going?" I asked, once I realized it.

"Pick up Chase," she said.

When we got back home, Chase looked extremely tired. His eyes were half closed, and he didn't say much, other than, "I'm going to unpack."

My mother looked at me after he left. "He's so upset..." she said softly.

"Why? He deserves better than his parents." I said, and stared at the TV.

"It's hard to go through that," she said quietly. "Go talk to him," she smiled a little. I got up and went to his bedroom door. I knocked quietly.

"Come in," he mumbled. I opened the door and peaked in. He was laying on the bed, face down, and then turned his head to look at me. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it.

"You okay?" I asked softly. He shook his head and put his face back in the pillow. I laid beside him, and he turned his head to raise an eyebrow at me.

"You don't know what it's like to be disowned..." he whispered. "It's like... no one loves you. And no one ever will. It's the most lonely feeling ever."

"Than you'd think you'd come hang out with me, so you wouldn't be lonely..." I smiled a little.

"I don't mind being alone, it's just... I don't want to bring your mood down." He mumbled softly and put his face back in the pillow. I rubbed his back a little.

"Maybe I'd bring your mood up?" I whispered. He shook his head and I sighed lightly.

I laid there with him for a while. He didn't say much, but he took my hand, and held it to his face. His eyes closed, and I stared at him. I looked at our hands. His hand was much bigger than mine. The heat of his hand was nice, considering my hands were always cold. His fingernails were painted black, and mine were painted red.

His blue eyes opened; they looked glassy as if he was trying not to cry. "Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?"

"Being here for me," he gave me a small smile. I smiled back.

"No problem."

"How was your friends?"

"Actually, they asked where you were..." I said, looking at him. He squeezed my hand.

"They'll see me tomorrow," he mumbled, "not that I want to see them," he groaned.

"We'll sit some where else during lunch," I said.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" He said and dropped my hand.

"Because you deserve it," I said softly. He shook his head and put his face back in the pillow. "I'm not who you seem to think I am." I started saying. He glanced up at me. "I may seem like I'm the goody two shoes, but that's not who I really am." I said, and kept getting quieter.

"Than what are you?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fake." I mumbled, "I hate being friends with popular people. They're so dumb. I can't even understand why it would matter if you're popular, or the person who gets picked on at school. Either way, you're still a person.... I hate myself for being friends with them."

Chase stared at me, "How does this not make you a goody two shoes?" he gave me a small smirk.

"If I was a goody two shoes, I wouldn't lie about who I am. I wouldn't cut myself everytime I think about who my friends are."

I pressed my eye lids together as I realized what I had just told him. I opened my eyes, and he was just staring at me. I couldn't see any emotion in his eyes. He put his arm around me and pulled me to him. His chin laid on my head lightly.

"I didn't mean to say that," I mumbled into his neck.

"Are you depressed?" he asked quietly.

"No... But I was... I learned to hide it."

"Am I the only one who knows this?" He asked softly. I burried my face into his neck further, and he chuckled a little, "I'm ticklish." he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered. I felt him twist his fingers in my hair.

"Why only me?"

"No one else would understand," I whispered. I closed my eyes, and he rubbed my back lightly.