The Mistake.
Chapter 2.
I sat next to his laying body.
“What are you doing here?” he said sitting up readjusting his sweatshirt, he removed his hood. He had jet black hair and green eyes, from what I could make out in the dark.
“My parents told me to get out” my voice said. Part of me just wanted to tell him, but I have no clue about him.
“Alright, I won’t complain.” He said shivering, “What’s your name?”
“Megan” I said giving out a quick smile, “Yours?”
“Rocco” he said focusing on the brick, he routed through his pocket and came out with a bouncy ball, and he started bouncing it on the brick wall.
“How come you’re homeless?” I asked, I had no clue if I regret answering that question.
“I’m not homeless” he said holding onto the yellow ball “I ran away, you?”
“Ugh” I said focusing on the stars up above us, “I’m not homeless”
“Then what are you?” he said sitting around “No one ever talks to me”
“I live with my parents” I said.
“So why do you have to steal?” he asked, I looked at him he could probably tell I was shocked.
“It’s complicated” I said biting my lip, I’ve known this boy for less than an hour.
“I’m sure I’ve heard worse” he said in a low voice.
“Why should I tell you?” I said staring at him.
“Because we’re close friends” he said truthfully, are we really?
“Really?” I mumbled.
“Don’t you want to be my friends?” he asked sounding upset.
“I do” I said “No one really knows about my parents”
“Know what?” he said.
“Fine you want to hear the truth my last boyfriend broke up with me because of it...” I said before he cut in.
“Just tell me” he said in a bored voice.
“My dad’s a druggie and my mom’s an alcoholic, happy?” I said, my eyes felt like an onion had just been cut.
“Oh, can’t they get help?” he said concerned.
“Help? I’ve tried that. They don’t want help they don’t even want me!” I said standing up, “I’m their mistake!”
“Oh” he said scanning my body.
I slipped my back down the rough bricks.
“Why did you runaway?” I said looking into his green eyes.
“I guess you’ve told me your story” he said, he took a deep breath “My mom died 4 years ago of cancer and my dad doesn’t want me, neither of my family does”
“Why?” I asked looking concerned, least I had a house, well he did but he chose not to.
“My dad doesn’t want me, he told me to get out 3 months ago. I started smoking and doing bad things” he said, “Probably like you do”
“I don’t smoke...” I said.
“But you steal” he added, I felt my face turn into all shades of red.
“Maybe I should go” I said standing up but he grabbed my hand.
“Don’t go” he pleaded looking into my blue eyes.
“Want to come to mine?” I asked holding out my hand.
“Sure” he said, “Anything as got to be better than the streets”
xStoryTimeSmile