That's Just the Beginning

Chapter 7

"So why are you home so late?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at my lame attempt to change the subject.

"Didn't I already say that I was at a party?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I shrugged. I'm guessing he took this as an encouraging motion to talk, but I just did it to answer his question. "2:40A.M is actually early to come home from a party. Usually, I get home at 5 or sometimes I don't come home." He stated, shrugging. I gave him a confused look.

"Don't your parents worry about you?" I asked, and in response I earned a shrug.

"Usually, my mother doesn't know I even leave; those are the days when I don't go home. But the days I do come home at around 5, I'm usually sober or well enough to walk and climb so I just climb up this makeshift ladder." He replied, nodding. I noticed the edge to his voice when he said 'mother.' Oh, parents are obviously a touchy subject- much like me. Who would have thought that I'd have something in common with a popular?

"How long have you been living here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He speaks from experience and from what I know; he's only been living here for a week. He smirked and laughed.

"A week," He stated, nodding. "But so far I've been to 3 parties, including this one and 1 out of 3 have been where I haven't come home." He stated, blowing out a breath.

I nodded. Why is he telling me this? Not that it's not interesting; it's just that he seems like a person who isn't open. From what I can see, he's all smiles and such at school but I'm not quite sure. He could be somewhat like me; wild around his friends and quiet around anyone else. Aside from the fact that he has friends, (plural) all over school, we seem a bit similar.

"That's... different," I muttered. He just nodded in agreement, or maybe it was because he was drunk. Was he drunk? I furrowed my eyebrows before asking him aloud. "Are you drunk?" I asked. He smirked and shrugged, tilting his head to the side adorably.

"I was drunk. But I'm not a sloppy drunk or anything; I've been told I'm a funny drunk." He said, blinking at me. Maybe that explains his honesty. Should I test my luck and ask him some more questions?

"So, what's up with you?" I asked, deciding that he'll probably forget this conversation in the morning. But then again, I'm a sheltered 17 year old girl, what do I know about drinking? Wait, what should he know about drinking? He was probably 17, 18 at most! The legal drinking age is 21.

"What do you mean?" He asked, placing his head between his hands and blinking his large eyes at me. The bluish green color was leaning more towards a sea green color. After staring into them for about 3 minutes, I blinked a few times before coughing awkwardly. He just smirked at me. You can't deny that he's good looking. I don't think anyone can actually say he's ugly- because that'd be a lie. And as much as I hate to admit it, he's attractive. I wouldn't say it to his face, though.

"You've been, y'know, acting weird. Different, I guess." I stated. Then again, what did I know about him?

He could've been staring at me every day like a creep and I wouldn't have noticed! I'm so oblivious. He could be partially blind or he could've been drunk and couldn't control his eye movement. Now you're just making up excuses. Stick to your point, stand strong.

"How have I been acting weird?" He asked, pursing his lips in thought. I'm guessing he was trying to remember whatever it was that he did that gave off the vibe 'weird.' I bit my lip, thinking about how to say what I wanted to say.

"You remember the first time we met, right?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. It was a start right? He looked conused for a moment.

"Uh, no." He quickly answered.

"Well, I expected that answer," I replied truthfully and he frowned, puckering out his lower lip. The charming action didn't stop my rant though. "But it was just the other day, when I had to give Jack our project to get his name signed at the bottom so he'd receive credit and-." I continued but he cut me off.

"Oh! That time! I remember now. How was I acting weird?" He asked, smirking.

He knew what I was talking about; he just wanted me to say it so he could make me feel stupid. He'd say something like, 'I was staring at something behind you. Don't be so cocky, you're not even pretty.' And that wasn't something I really needed to hear. That would break me and I'd probably stay inside for the rest of the weekend thinking about how ugly I am. I had projects to do and I needed to get them done. I couldn't spend my whole weekend depressed. Instead of telling him, like he wanted me to, I bit my lip and grabbed the top of the window, ready to shut it.

"Well, goodnight." I grudgingly said. I didn't get the information I wanted from slightly drunken Adrian. He held out his hand, his eyes pleading.

"No, no, don't leave yet," He said, frowning. His sudden vulnerability caught me off guard and call me a bad person; I sat down intending to hear more about him. More things he'd regret in the morning. That's if he remembered.

"Now tell me how I was acting weird." He said, holding back a smile. I glared at him and he held up both of his hands, claiming innocence.

"You were staring at me." I said, blowing out a breath, preparing for his cruel wording. It was too good to be true- an actual conversation with a popular person that didn't end in them tossing a cruel insult my way or it turning out to be a prank. I still didn't rule the last one out. Or the first one; in fact I was rooting for the first one to happen because it always does.

"Was I now?" He asked, smirking. I gave him an annoyed look before he nodded. "I was." He said, nodding.

"Why?" I questioned him, raising an eyebrow. I waited for an answer, any answer actually.

"Do you want to know the truth?" He asked, smirking. I shrugged carelessly.

"I've never seen someone as ugly as you." He whispered. And this time, I closed my window, closed my curtains and went to sleep. That is the insult that breaks me every time. That was enough harassment for one day.