The Mess I Made
Chapter Six.
"Hey! Mind stepping away from the girl, bro?" Cheyenne said as James, looked at her rather confused.
"What the-? Cheyenne?" he said, caught off guard as his hand's grip became kind of tight on mine
"James?" Cheyenne questioned, raising an eyebrow at James.
Something told me they had heard of each other ,but since Cheyenne hadn't be able to tell it was him, I knew they didn't know each other well. I looked at her, very guarded. After all the shit this morning I wasn't about to let her rule my social life. She needed to get a grip.
"Look, just be careful with my sister, alright?" Cheyenne said with a guarded tone.
"You two are sisters..? I didn't know-" James started, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I mean Sam, okay? Stay away from her, Jennings, or you'll have me to deal with," Cheyenne said in a huff before hurrying off.
I sighed, becoming amused, then looked back at James. He looked to me and I just shook my head," She's a headache."
"What was that about though?" he asked, honestly confused.
"Hell if I know," I told him, "She hates me one minute and defends me the next, if she's not doing that she's being chewed out by her mom. It's just a complete mess."
"But you're her si-"
I cut him off, "I am not and never will be her sister! She's rude, snotty, and a bitch! Never call me her sister."
He looked a bit alarmed, then a quirky smile crossed his face and he shook his head. He seemed to almost humor me when he let my hand go and pick up my book bag.
"Okay, then what will I call you? Demon? I am, that's what your English teacher said when she saw your tattoo," he said glancing at my jacket sleeve.
"Call me Sam or die trying," I told him as he smirked.
I felt like this boy understood something about me. Maybe more then just something. I think, in his own way, he knew me. He knew where I was with Cheyenne and he'd seem to understand when I told him about my home life. My real home's life. He was different. I liked his different.
"I think I can manage Sam," he said as he tapped the paper in my other hand,"So which teacher next?"
"Winston, Drama," I said without looking down.
"Ah, that'll be a trip to find," he said as he offered me his free hand.
Without hesitation, I took his hand and walked beside him. I found myself looking up at his eyes, they were smoky gray and utterly dark. They were like mine. Dark and guarded. It told me all I needed to know about him.
"So, what's your story?" I asked him as he closed his eyes.
"I'll tell you later. It's a long one," he said without any expression.
"What the-? Cheyenne?" he said, caught off guard as his hand's grip became kind of tight on mine
"James?" Cheyenne questioned, raising an eyebrow at James.
Something told me they had heard of each other ,but since Cheyenne hadn't be able to tell it was him, I knew they didn't know each other well. I looked at her, very guarded. After all the shit this morning I wasn't about to let her rule my social life. She needed to get a grip.
"Look, just be careful with my sister, alright?" Cheyenne said with a guarded tone.
"You two are sisters..? I didn't know-" James started, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I mean Sam, okay? Stay away from her, Jennings, or you'll have me to deal with," Cheyenne said in a huff before hurrying off.
I sighed, becoming amused, then looked back at James. He looked to me and I just shook my head," She's a headache."
"What was that about though?" he asked, honestly confused.
"Hell if I know," I told him, "She hates me one minute and defends me the next, if she's not doing that she's being chewed out by her mom. It's just a complete mess."
"But you're her si-"
I cut him off, "I am not and never will be her sister! She's rude, snotty, and a bitch! Never call me her sister."
He looked a bit alarmed, then a quirky smile crossed his face and he shook his head. He seemed to almost humor me when he let my hand go and pick up my book bag.
"Okay, then what will I call you? Demon? I am, that's what your English teacher said when she saw your tattoo," he said glancing at my jacket sleeve.
"Call me Sam or die trying," I told him as he smirked.
I felt like this boy understood something about me. Maybe more then just something. I think, in his own way, he knew me. He knew where I was with Cheyenne and he'd seem to understand when I told him about my home life. My real home's life. He was different. I liked his different.
"I think I can manage Sam," he said as he tapped the paper in my other hand,"So which teacher next?"
"Winston, Drama," I said without looking down.
"Ah, that'll be a trip to find," he said as he offered me his free hand.
Without hesitation, I took his hand and walked beside him. I found myself looking up at his eyes, they were smoky gray and utterly dark. They were like mine. Dark and guarded. It told me all I needed to know about him.
"So, what's your story?" I asked him as he closed his eyes.
"I'll tell you later. It's a long one," he said without any expression.