Shattered Heart

Part 4 ~ 10'000 Teardrops

I'm done.

I look at my arm. Michael's name is now cut in it . . it's gonna be on there forever . . no matter where I am, no matter where he is . . Michael is now always with me, close to me . . living on my arm. I put my hand on the wound and relax for a little bit. It's hurting me . . but it's relaxing me in a way. Cutting Michael's beautiful name on my arm was worth every ounce of pain.

~ Michael's point of view ~ 

I just got home from school. I have so much studying to do but I'm so not in the mood. I wanna hang out with Chris. he's got a new video game and I just have to check it out! I eat something and bring my backpack upstairs.

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey?"

I walk into the kitchen. She's standing there, reading her magazine, while drinking a cup of coffee. "Mom, can I go over to Chris' house?"

She takes a sip from her coffee mug. "Do you have homework?"

"Yea . . but not much . . I just have to study for a test . . but I can do that in the morning"

"No fun until homework is done . . you know the rules, baby"

"Yes, I do, mom . . and I respect all your rules . . but-"

"No buts, baby . . go upstairs and do your homework, please"

I walk up to her and give her a kiss on the cheek. "Have I ever told you that you're the most beautiful mom on this planet?" She rolls her eyes at me, letting out a laugh. "Don't even try, Michael . . it's not gonna work this time"

"Mom . . you really need to know that you look so young in that light orange top you're wearing . . and these earrings make you look at least eight years younger"

She throws a lemon at me. "You're not going out of this house, not until you've finished studying, Michael J. Jackson . . now get your little butt upstairs and study, will ya?"

I slowly make my way out of the kitchen. Let's see if I can get her to change her mind when I tell her this; "Today at school I showed some friends of mine your driver's license picture . . the one you made a month ago . . believe it or not, mom, they thought you were my sister"

She puts down her magazine and points her finger at me. "Be home at 10pm . . not a minute after!"

I smile from ear to ear. "Thanks, mom!  . . love you!"

I run upstairs and grab my wallet and my phone. Right this second my phone rings, it's Keisha. Oh man . . I bet she wants me to come over . . but I promised Chris that I'll come to his house right after school . . should I pick up? . . yea, I kinda have to . . if I don't pick up then she will call my home number.

I decide to pick up the phone:

"Hello?"

"Hey honey . . whatcha down'?"

"I'm doing homework . . and I have a lot to study for . .what are you doing, babe?"

"I'm home . . alone . . I miss you"

"Keisha, I really can't come over . . I have tons of stuff to do . . I call you before bed, ok?" 

I get no answer . . I think someone's a little pissed.

"No, Michael . . you don't have to call me before bed . . I'm . . I'm gonna stay at Elena's house tonight . . she's having a . . party"

"A party? . . what kind of party? . . with guys?"

"I guess so . . alright, see you tomorrow, Michael . . I don't wanna interrupt your studying"

"Who's gonna be there, Keisha? . . I don't think I want you sleeping at Elena's house when she's having guys over"

"We're all just sleeping in the same house . . it's not like I'm gonna have sex with them"

"Sex? . . why do you even have to use that word, Keisha? . . now you know you got me worried . . I don't want you sleeping there, stay home, please . . do it for me, baby"

"Sounds like you miss me . . why don't you come over to my place, Michael? . . Baby, I miss you . . I could stay home . . and we could spend the night together"

"Babe, I can't . . I have to study . . we will see each other tomorrow . . and I will call you before bed, alright? . . I love you"

"Alright . . bye . . love you, too Michael . ."

"I love you more, babe"

I hang up the phone and put it in my jeans pocket. I hate lying to my girl but I had to. She wouldn't let me go over to Chris' house. She's afraid that girls will be there with us. 

She's so jealous . . and the funny thing is that she always tries to make me jealous, too . . and the worst part is that I sometimes fall for it. You never know if she's for real or not. When she says something you can never tell if she's serious or not. Just the mere thought of her being around guys all night . . makes me furious . . I would not be ok with that. 

I love her . . I love spending time with her but I also like spending time with Chris. He's my best friend. We've been friends for so many years. Keisha is such a tight ass when it comes to me hanging out with my friends. She keeps calling like every five minutes . . and I find that really annoying.

Keisha knows how strict my father is . . which is why I was able to lie about studying. he's a great dad . . I love him . . but . . he's VERY strict . . and we fight a lot. 

I run to the bus stop and drive down to Chris' house. I can't wait to see what his new video game is like. Chris is very excited about it and we have the same taste when it comes to video games. I'm sure I will love it.

NEXT DAY

~ Jordyn's point of view ~ 

I'm sitting in school, bored to ears . . wishing the time will go by a little faster. My stomach hurts, I'm hungry. We're all working on a piece of paper we have to finish until lunch break. I just got done writing it . . the school bell should be ringing at any second now.

Everybody rushes out of the classroom as soon as the bell rings. Elena is walking behind me, making stupid faces and noises. I don't like that girl . . I hate her. She's like the female version of Justin. Yuck.

I walk out and put my hair in bun. It's so hot today but I don't like showing skin. That's why I'm always wearing the same kinds of clothes . . no matter how hot or cold it is outside. I can't wear the clothes all the other girls are wearing . . I wouldn't feel comfortable showing my skin like that.

I pull up my sleeves and look for my iPod.

"Hey, Jordyn . . what's that on your arm?" 

I quickly pull down my sleeves. 

"Umm . . nothing. ."

To be continued . . .