THE MURDERER AND I

chapter nine: the secret "break in"

The rest of the day went by quickly. I hitched a ride home, anxious to get ready.

"Hey mom, I'm home." My voice echoed. She wasn't home. I don't know why I even tried sometimes. Ever since my dad left us, my mom seemed to drink more and more. She really didn't give a damn about me. She was always gone, and if she wasn't, she was alone, sleeping off a hangover.

I ran up to my room and plopped on my bed. My room was pretty big, my house was big in general. I guess you could call me rich, almost everyone in my neighborhood was. My thoughts were interrupted but a clinking noise on my window. I looked up. Rocks. Rocks? Curious, I got up and looked out the window. You again. My heart fluttered, then my eyes widened in surprise.

"Dean! What the hell are you doing here?" I yelled, watching you climb my balcony and stumble into my room.

"Nice place you got here." You smirked.

"You didn't answer my question." I said, crossing my arms.

"I guess I just wanted to see you." You replied, getting dangerously close.

"Seriously? You could have just waited until you picked me up."

"Aw but that wouldn't have been any fun, would it?" You joked, making a pouty face.

You looked down at me. I smiled and pushed your shoulder lightly. "Get outta here." I teased.

You laughed recklessly. "You don't wanna do something else?" You said in a dirty tone.

"Get out!" I laughed. You smirked as you climbed down my balcony. You're hot, you mouthed, running back to your black corvette. I tried to contain my laughter as you pretended to faint and stumble into your front seat. You drove off, and I found myself praying what they said about you wasn't true.