Bad Boys Don't Cry
"Grayson, what are you doing?" I asked, slowly, walking into his house. He was sitting on a bar stool in the kitchen, facing the view of the city lights.
Grayson was surrounded by open bottles of beers and alcohol. When he turned around, I did what most people wouldn't do, I looked directly into his eyes.
His eyes were like a book, telling a story to ones who dared to look at them. Hurt, confusion, and sadness written all over his drooping, bloodshot eyes. He didn't answer me, making me step closer to him, "You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah," he whispered with the rare smile I've seen only a few times through the time I've known him. Though this one is different. It was depressing.
"No, you're not."
He sighed. He didn't say anything back, but we both knew what he was going to say. He knew what he was feeling right now, even though he wasn't sober. He knew.
"I wanna fix you." I whispered, shocking myself.
His smile vanished, almost immediately. He looked away from me, his eyes back to the city lights, "Me too."He whispered.
Stereotypes shape today's society, especially with Grayson Watts. He's the schools bad boy, making girls go all over him, but I, Bailey Winters, or so I thought. I'm the girl that's usually too busy reading and doing homework than to go out and stalk guys. Somehow, Grayson and I cross paths and something about me made us become close enough to be called, 'friends.' With our new found friendship, I learned that bad boys, too, could be broken.
Highest Rank- #27 in Teen Fiction 8/6/17i