Mated With Five Boys

Chapter 6: Evil Teenage Boy.

"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time.We are the ones we've been waiting for.We are the change that we seek."- Barack Obama

I laid in bed late that night thinking about Rose's words, about opening myself to people.

I don’t understand why I have such trouble letting people in.

I guess that's partly the reason I started writing in my journal because I didn’t trust anyone with my secrets.

And maybe that's because I don't want someone seeing me that vulnerable.

Maybe it's because I'm scared if I start Pouring myself out, I won't know how to stop.

Or maybe it's because I know everyone in my life is temporary, foster parents, friends, teachers, neighbors, and even family.

I remember going to school after my mother died, I was in the second grade, I told my best friend at the time about what had happened.

I still remember the tears that formed in her young eyes as she repeatedly told how sorry she was.

And even with me being that young, I decided then and there I wasn't going to tell anyone about my life, and so I didn't.

I didn't need people's apologies.

I didn't need people feeling sorry for me.

What I needed was my mom back.

The only person I ever told my thoughts to is long gone, and not coming back.

And I'm okay with that.

At least, that's what I had thought before now.

I closed my eyes, trying to force myself to sleep, but it felt like my brain was going 100 mph.

One sheep, two sheep, three shee- who the hell am I kidding? That's never going to work.

Groaning loudly, I grabbed the pillow that was resting next to me and covered my face with it.

Go to freaking sleep Mia.

I stared blankly up at my dark ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts.

My internal clock completely and totally screwed.

Especially since Colorado is two hours behind from New York, where I previously lived.

I closed my eyes for the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time, finally feeling the drowsiness seep into my body when suddenly my walls started shaking.

Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi started ringing in my ears from the room across from mine.

Axel's room.

Oh, C’mon! I sighed irritated.

Who plays music this late? I'll tell you who, evil teenage boys that's who.

Doesn't he understand how disrespectful that is? How would he like it if I blasted my music this late? I jumped out of my bed, whipping the covers off me in the process.

I marched over to my door, flinging it open.

this point, I

he no respect? I stomped right to

I have a

music was playing so loud that

fingers around the cold I doorknob and twisted

the door slowly, peeking through the

I just had before washing

want to wage war with Axel? No Mia, you can do

happen? I shook my head agreeing with myself, It's time to take some initiative

in this case, Axel Deacon

very mysterious and strangely attractive monster

Axel a piece of

"WOOAAAHH WE'RE HALFWAY THERE!"

hand balled into a fist,

ON A

and started playing

did I fail to mention that all he was wearing was a pair of loose-fitting, grey basketball shorts? My

like a

What in the fuck

cold voice asked me, turning off his

hard, the smile on my face

so angry every time he

done anything to

Mia here's

he doesn't

"I-I just"

form my words, he was just too damn

You've done blown it.

eyes? What's he supposed to do? Talk to you

"Just forget it, leave."

off, turning his music back

was something in his voice that didn't sit right

to say was unimportant, as if I was

tell you to turn your music

mustering up the little backbone

"Oh really?"

lips formed into

"Really."

head, feeling proud of

"No."

simply, turning on his

What do you mean

over to his stereo and turning the volume

"I mean no."

in

"It's too loud,"

I stated.

play Living on a Prayer loud

his dark brown

for one,

said poking his

with Bon Jovi over here shaking my

my hand that I had poked him with and gripped my wrist

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