Playing It Safe

#13: I'm Not Crazy

The next morning I'm awaken to the yells and screams of my aunt. I glance over at my alarm clock blinking my eyes repeatedly. It's four in the morning Lisa. I'd usually wake up about six, what was she mad about now? Then remembering the reason why I had a crazy headache, ah, I was drunk last night and met her square of a boy friend.

                "Colby come down stairs right now!" she yelled again. Yup, she was super angry. I lazily pulled the covers off of me, and threw a shirt I found on my floor on, then I headed down stairs. She was standing my steps already with a frown planted on her face.

                "What?" I asked nonchalantly.

                I guess my what made her explode even more, "What in the world is wrong with you?!" she continued yelling at me some more, "I bought a frie-

                "Boyfriend." I corrected her.

                She stressed the word friend, "Friend, over just for a glass of wine and you're in your underwear humping the air? How embarrassing."

                I couldn't help but chuckle at her, "What person brings a friend, a male friend that is, over to have some wine late at night."

                "Fine. He's something like a boyfriend but after meeting you! He'd probably want to have nothing to do with me!" Lisa threw her hands up in the air.

                Shrugging my shoulders I commented, "He was a square anyways."

                And thats when she gave me the most evilest look ever. I returned it with a bored face. We stared at eachother for a couple of seconds before she finally spoke up, "You came here to become better, and there's no progress."

                "Exactly, because there's nothing about me that needs to change." I voiced, "And if you don't want me here, I'll appreciate if you call my jack ass parents and tell them that."

                "No, no, no..." she trailed off, "No you're staying. My square of a boyfriend says that you need some therapy."

                I bursted out laughing. Therapy? Me? Need therapy? Did the square really think I was some sort of physco. I'm not a physco, and I didn't need therapy. Lisa looked at me scowling. I guess she really did think I messed up her chances with Mr. Square. I shouldn't be selfish. If she wanted me to go to therapy with that prick, then fine I'll go.