He's Just a Kid (Marcus Davenport X OC Book 1)

Please Don't Let Them Look Through the Curtains

To say I hate my home would be an understatement.

It's not that I don't like the fact that I have a home, I'm super grateful that I have a bed and food and clothes on my back. After all, there are people in this world that don't have those things. I'm not mad about those things.

I'm mad at my family.

My mother was still staring at me with daggers shooting from her eyes, the phone gripped in her hand. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, which she probably hadn't. She never slept well anymore. Not since she found me in the woods over a dead deer with its blood dripping from my fangs and claws, orange-and-black fur with cat ears and a tail. Yes. A tail.

Since then, she's treated me like absolute dirt. Like, yes I've killed something for food before, but that doesn't mean I'm a freaking cannibal, gosh. She won't let me go out other than school and study sessions with Bree---with the occasional shopping trip to the mall to get new clothes because she can't be bothered to check my size herself. And she's definitely not going to let me live this whole "Marcus situation" down.

Mom threw the phone at me, forcing me to fumble with it before I finally got a grip on it. I stared at her with surprise.

"What the heck?"

"Don't 'what the heck' me!" Mom shouted at me. "Don't you even think that's okay for you to do right now!"

She pointed a long finger at the house phone still clutched in my hand. "Who was that? Answer me!"

"Okay, okay, jeez!" I yelped, throwing my hands up in sarcastic surrender as she grew ever closer to my face. "That was Marcus. He---"

"Who's Marcus?"

"I'm getting to that, let me, will you?" This time I was the one glaring at her. "He's a guy I met at school. He asked me out to ice cream this weekend."

Rage burned behind my mother's eyes. I was afraid if she got any angrier then she would erupt like Mount Vesuvius. Despite how it looks now, she had a very long fuse. But when that fuse finally blows the bomb up?

You're in for it.

"And?" she prodded, putting her hands on her hips angrily. "What did you say?"

I bit my tongue. I could lie. I could lie and it would all be fine. But I hated lying. It always left me feeling sick and guilty. And for what? So I could defend my own pride?

But during this moment I seriously considered it. It was better than her raining hellfire down on Marcus when she inevitably met him---Lord, I pray that doesn't happen. This time it wasn't just about defending myself. It was about defending someone else.

I sighed, resigning. "I said yes."

Then she erputed.

It happened so fast that I didn't even have time to brace myself. I flinched once at the start, but then completely zoned out the moment she went on her schpeal about how I was so disrespectful and selfish, and how nobody else in the world mattered but me; how I was sneaking out of responsibilities around the house to go on measly little dates with boys.

I had heard it all before. So I didn't even bother listening to most of it.

Until she said something that completely flipped a switch in my brain.

". . . you are just like your father!"

Everything else shut off at that moment; the reasoning, the logic, the self control, all of it was gone and replaced by pure hurt and hatred.