Type 1

Chapter 3

Type 1

DO NOT tell me I'm a "bad diabetic" You don't have diabetes. You don't know how hard it is. I try my best to manage what i didn't ask for.

It was Saturday morning. I had gotten up early and completed my daily tasks. I haven't checked on Hailey since last night; she's most likely still sleeping.

Our parents have returned to work; our father is a doctor and our mother is a nurse. So I'm fortunate in that my parents can bring me new diabetes supplies. My father is rarely present; I never get to see him because he is a doctor and must be at the hospital the majority of the time. Mom is the same way, but we see her occasionally.

So Hailey and I are basically alone all of the time. Some people our age would love that, but I don't. I miss my parent's company and wish we could spend more time together, but that never happens.

I started walking up to Hailey's room, holding the tray with a cup of water and a hangover cure tablet. I lean against her door, pressing my ear against it, listening to see if she was awake. Hearing her talking on the phone, she bursts out laughing. My brow furrows.

Is she speaking with the boy she mentioned yesterday?

I took a step back and opened the door, watching the door fling open and seeing her jolt awake in bed. She widens her eyes and returns my stare, her phone pressed against her ear. I look around her room, and it screams "girly." Pink and white everything.

"I'll call you later..." She said to the person on the other end of the phone line. She puts her phone down and hangs up. I smiled weakly and approached her, setting the tray on her nightstand. "What the fuck is going on, Aria?" She hissed, her stern face fixed on me. "I was talking on the phone."

"And I brought you something for your hangover," I replied, a wide smile on my face. She arched her brows and gives me a menacing look. "You're welcome," I said, and she rolled her eyes at me while sitting up in bed properly. I take a seat on her bed and look around her slightly cluttered room.

"Did I say you could sit on my bed?" she asked coldly, crossing her arms and staring at me with squinted eyes.

I squinted my eyes, chuckled softly, and shook my head. I said, opening my eyes and raising an eyebrow as I slowly shook my head, "No, you didn't." I muttered, wriggling my finger on her bed sheets, "But I didn't have a say when I took you to that party," and she shot me a glare while lowering her head.

"You have agreed to take me," she argued, and I rolled my eyes and smirked.

"Yeah, when you tried to make me feel bad about not wanting to take you," I said, and she groans angrily.

"Whatever, get out of my room," she said as she kicked her legs at me to leave. I made a funny face because her kicks didn't hurt.

" Who was that on the phone?"When I asked, she widened her eyes, grabbed her pillow, and threw it at me. I chuckle as the pillow hits my face while I hold it on my arms.

"It's none of your business."

I let my face relax and stare at her, feeling a little left out because she used to tell me everything. "You used to tell me everything," I said, my disappointment evident in my tone. She remains silent and turns her gaze away from me. "You mentioned seeing Jack, Ryan, and Nick in the past. Why are you keeping this one from me?" I asked her and mentioned the names of all the guys she used to see and date.

She sighs deeply and squeezes her hands tightly around her hair. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, turning away from me and looking at something else.