The Suicidal Freak's Wall [boyxboy]

-3- The Suicidal Freak's Wall [boyxboy]

"Why did you invite me in here? Is there something you want from me?" Why did I have to blurt it out like that? Now it seems like I'm just a rude, spoiled brat!

"I'm interested in you," he responded and I sputtered in shock. In-interested, in me?! "How? What?" the two words were barely pushed out of my throat. He coughed loudly. "I'm not sure if you'll want to stay with me after I've told you," he said, taking a hair band and tying his hair in a quick ponytail.

"I..Just tell me!" I demanded loudly, crossing my arms over each other in distress.

"I had a private investigator sought you out and research information about you for my benefit," he finally stated, finishing the rest of the Gatorade bottle's contents. I nearly choked a second time in surprise. Oh no, and to think that I could be an entire stranger around this guy! Damn it!

"What do you know about me?! Why did you want to research about me? Why? Explain to me!" I exclaimed. I had never seen this side of myself before. Most of the time, I was quiet, and undisturbed, and very hard to irritate. Now just by a mere stranger's words, I had stood up and raised my voice louder than normal. I realized this and blushed, sitting down on the couch, my long black hair covering my face. That was embarrassing. I hate my random outbursts.

"What do I know about you? Well, I know that you have two jobs, one for delivering newspaper and one at the bookstore. I know...that your dad passed over in a tragic car accident, the rest of your family ditched you, that you nearly committed suicide, and that you need someone to be there for you," he glanced at me momentarily.

I dared not look at him except from behind my wall of hair. My hair was my protection, my shield from the people of the outside world, the people who did not belong in my personal space. This man was getting dangerously close to the bottom line. Anytime now, I could burst into tears uncontrollably.

"Why do you know all these things?" I asked, shaking in fury. Archer pulled my hands towards him, and forced my face up to look at him.

"I wanted to research about you because I'm interested in you, obviously. The first time I saw you, I thought, 'What a cute boy, I must know more about him.' Although I was very surprised at what I found out, I'm glad I hired my investigator to tell me about you because now you won't have to worry anymore. I'll take care of you. You should go back to school, and not be worrying all the time about the bills. Your mom and sister shouldn't have left you like that. Your mother was acting very irrational and irresponsible."

A tear left my eye.

"My mother did not leave me." Everything I had denied in the past year broke through the dam I had built against the truth. I always knew Lisa and Mom were never going to come back, but I had forced myself to believe that they would, because they still loved me.

"She did, Kadence. She left you alone with a house and endless bills to pay. Your mother was a coward to you," he stated evenly. Tears flowed out twice as much now.

"You can't do this to me! Mom and Lisa, they will come back, they will!" I sobbed savagely. "I'm fine like this! You don't have to do anything!"

"Calm down, Kadence, calm down," the man wiped my tears with his thumbs softly. I glared up at his green irises. They were beautiful yet angry at the same time. Was Archer really that angered about my mom leaving me?

"What time do you have to go to the bookstore?" he asked, changing the subject. My breaths turned quick and shallow, and I panted a little from all that wailing.

"Around 10 o'clock!" I answered, panicking as I saw the cuckoo clock ticking on the other side of the room.

"I'm going to be late! I have to go!" I stood up but Archer pushed me back down.

"Quiet yourself," he said abruptly. "I'll drive you. Where is it?"

"It's on 13881 Raspberry Blvd!" I cried out, and his mouth dropped slightly open.

"It doesn't happen to b-be called Tomasto Bookstore, right?" he asked, shaking my shoulders. "Please tell me you don't work in Tomasto Bookstore!" (A/N: if you're wondering why I called it Tomasto, I used to have a good friend called Thomas who I ALWAYS called Tomasto, I don't even know why. So since Archer's last name is Thomas I decided on Tomasto bookstore! Cute right? You probably think it's retarded though LMFAO!)

"I can't do that," I whispered, my head recovering from the dizziness. "Why?"

"I own that fucking bookstore!" he exclaimed, slapping his forehead. A word that we used to use in junior high school popped up in my mind. FACEPALM!!! I laughed a little, which Archer mistook for teasing.

"It's not funny!" he hissed, ruffling my hair and messing it up. I smoothed it back into place before replying.

"Sorry, I wasn't laughing at that, it's just I thought of something funny when you hit your own forehead," I replied, turning serious once again.

"What? What was it?" he asked hurriedly.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," I chuckled. He threw his hands up in the air.

"Fine, be that way!" he shot me one of those I-just-so-wasted-my-time-on-you looks. I shrugged. I wonder why this man was ever interested in me? It's not like I'm going to open up to him that easily. Che. As if.

"What's with the face?" he asked. I shook my head.

"Nothing," I replied.

"Can you just drive me to the bookstore?"

"Okay...." He said, "where's your bike?"

"Um it's in the first floor," I said monotonously.

"Okay. Donna can watch over it then," he grabbed his keys off a shelf as he pulled me into his elevator. I haven't ridden in an elevator in a while,I thought as the ground lurched and I felt my stomach churn, in a good way, that is.

"Haven't you ridden on one of these before?" he asked, noticing my amazed expression.

"Yeah," I smile a little, then mentally slapped myself a second time for being so relaxed in front of Archer. "Well, once you start living with me, you'll ride one everyday....unless you prefer the stairs," he beamed back at me.

"Since when was I ever going to live here?" I asked doubtfully, looking up at the buttons on the wall.

"Since I said so," he answered, smirking and pulled me out from the elevator, across the lobby and into the parking lot.

"A Honda? Aren't you like, rich?" I asked snidely. Wouldn't a guy like him buy a Ferrari, Jaguar or maybe a BMW?

"I'm a big fan of cars, I'm just not into buying the super expensive ones though," he said, "it's just a car. It's for transportation only. You don't have to spend that much money on it."

"Yeah, I guess," I mutter as I get in the backseat.

"Why don't you like riding in the front?" he asked, turning his head to look back at me. Because my dad died in the front while his friend was driving.

"My dad...." I started but he held up a hand.

"Don't say any more," he said in mutual understanding and started the car engine.

I haven't ridden on a car for a long time, too.

Strange, usually I fall asleep when I'm on one of these things.

Not long after that thought passed through my head, I passed out in a deep sleep.