Summer of 09'

Caleb Turman's P.O.V.

The cheap motel light flickered on and off, not that it provided much light. I groaned as it continued to flicker, driving me towards delirium. I rubbed my eyes I stared at the laptop's screen, surprisingly the motel had internet. I continued to IM John, but he didn't reply.

I gave up as I roamed the internet endlessly, and curiosity struck me as I brought up Google and typed in my own name. I grinned as thousands of result came up, I was a hot item it seemed.

I clicked the newest item that contained my name and it brought me to a blog, and I raised an eyebrow as I began to read it.

It's a wonder how trusting I am in the internet, how I let loose all my inner most feelings here and release the good and the bad memories. It's complicated to say I can show weakness to those who don't see me, but I can't to those who do.

I can't.

Weakness is not something easily portrayed, it comes across in many forms. Tears. Outspokenness.

Myself, I keep it to myself. There's no reason to tell everyone my every thought, not out loud. But on here where no one can see my face, no one can judge me. I feel safe.

So, here's an interesting story from my day.

So I was in AP Calculus and Mr. Davidson said we could use the computers and so I was sitting next to my best friend and she reading her magazine. Guess who was in it?

Caleb Turman.

God, he's so annoying. All he does is make the tabloids and for what? Because he sleeps with the dirtiest women around. Caleb Turman is a sleazeball. The sleaziest of the sleaze that exists in this world.

The boy needs to learn how to keep it in this pants before he catches something, if he doesn't already have something.

On a better and much more cooler note, I've learned I am able to go to Warped Tour with Ava. Hoorah.

My hand gripped my plug-in mouse and I thought for a second my death grip might break it as I re-read the harsh words posted in this blog. Never had I met someone who hated me without knowing me, never.

Most girls thought I was hot and just wanted in my pants, but no. This girl hated me, or hated how I would sleep with girls.

It's not my fault they threw themselves at me.

I just obliged, willingly.

I quickly looked on the side bar catching the girl's information, including her email address. Maybe it was time I gave her a piece of my mind.

I most definitely was not a sleaze.

I felt hands massaging my shoulders and looked behind me to see the girl I had slept with last night, her blonde hair a mess and mussed up. She had a smile on her face as she leaned forward to kiss me.

My eyes focused back to the screen as she continued to rub down my shoulders and my neck.

"Baby, you're so tense. Whats wrong?" She whispered into my ear, her warm breath tickling it almost making me feel slightly nausea with myself.

The girl had a point, but I wasn't a sleazeball. I shut my laptops screen and turned to face the beautiful blonde behind me, my arms wrapping around her waist as I pulled her forward and she giggled.

Her breath reeked of alcohol, and her body was cold from the lack of heat the motel contained. I smiled as she fell into my lap, my eyes staring into her warm chocolate eyes that looked excited.

"How about we go back to bed?" I asked as she nodded eagerly, her arms twining around my neck as I grinned as our lips touched, I could taste the alcohol as her tongue slipped into my mouth.

So maybe, I was just a tiny bit sleazy, but why refuse such a beautiful thing?

Mmm, girls.