Addicted {bxb}

XI

It's already been three days that I've been at the Dellmon's house and after being cooped up in Erica's room I decided to head home. After saying goodbye to Erica I walked past Adrian's room, thinking about saying goodbye to him as well. But after what happened earlier in the kitchen I figured that it's best I shouldn't try to talk to him again.

"Text me when you get home," Erica called out to me from the front door while I walked away from her. "Or don't! Your choice, Justin!"

I chuckled quietly to myself as I neared my car which was parked in their driveway. I unlocked the doors before getting into the driver's side. I let out a groan and checked my phone for the fourth time today hoping to at least see one text from one of my parents but of course, there wasn't. I tried my best not to let it get to me but the truth is, every time it always did. I tossed my phone on the passenger seat and then started up the car, heading back home.

Going home wasn't the first thought on my mind. I thought about going to the park so that I could smoke since I hadn't in three days but figured I shouldn't. I knew that would cause me to change my mind. It didn't take long before I was on my street and slowed my speed when I saw all the cars parked on both sides of the road.

"What the fuck?" I said quietly to myself as I made my way to pull into my driveway.

I didn't think too much about why there were so many cars on our street while I did the process of shutting off the car and getting out so I could head inside. Then finally my question was answered once I opened the front door.

The house was packed.

I didn't bother to look around the crowd of business people that were in my house because I just wanted to be alone in my room. I snuck through the crowd pushing a couple of people just to get to the stairs but before I could even step on the first step I was stopped in my tracks by someone calling my name.

When I turn on my heel to face the person that said my name I don't try to stop myself from letting out a scoff when I see Maricio making his way to me. I rolled my eyes and thought about walking away but I knew I wasn't going to get very far.

"Hey," Maricio said with a grin and I watched him stuff his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Did you just get here?"

"What do you want?" I asked, ignoring his question.

"It's been a while since we last spoke to each other," Maricio stated as if I didn't intend to do that. "I was thinking maybe we could-"

"No," I said, quickly cutting him off.

"But-"

"Do you want an autograph or something?" I asked, growing more annoyed that he was still trying to hold a conversation with me.

He chuckled at what I said but I didn't find it funny. He turned his head, looking through the crowd of people as if he was trying to find someone but when his eyes landed on me, he continued to talk.

"Your house is nice," he complimented me. "It's way better in person."

"Is that it?" I asked but wasn't going to wait for an answer.

I turned away from him, finally being able to make my way upstairs so that I could get to my bedroom. Once I was alone I threw my body on my bed, staring at the poster of Klay Thompson that was hanging up on my wall.

There was also nothing wrong with Maricio other than the obvious fact that my parents treated him as if he were their child. Something that anyone with a great pair of eyes would notice is what I want. To be noticed and appreciated more by my own parents. I have thought about changing just for them but ever since my outburst that caused me to storm out of the house all those efforts left my mind.

"It would be nice if you could take after Maricio," my dad said.

That's what broke my heart into a million pieces. Being compared to someone that I wasn't even related to was the worst feeling ever.

After laying in bed, listening to all the conversations going on downstairs, the time had finally come for everyone to go home. During those two hours, I spent thinking about wanting to talk to my parents to see if one day they'd invite me to one of their events. Every outcome that crossed my mind was all negative so I knew that was a dumb thing to try. There was a knock on my door which pulled me away from thought for a brief moment.

"Go away!" I called out but my tone was muffled from the side of my face sinking into my mattress. I heard my door opening and I let out a loud groan and forced myself to sit up so I could see who was entering.

Maricio.

"What the hell do you want?" I snapped. "You want to fuck or something?"

"Of course, that's the first thought that comes to your mind," Maricio said while he shook his head and took a step into my bedroom so he could close the door behind him.

He was now standing at the foot of my bed, staring into my tired eyes. The longer I looked at him, all dressed up in a suit and tie, his hair styled perfectly, and the watch that peeked out from under his sleeve I realized there was no way I could be like him.

"You know at some point we're going to have to tell our parents that we aren't really friends," Maricio informed me.

"I see no reason to bring it up to them," I replied with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Well, my parents have been asking why we never hang out."

I rolled my eyes and didn't give him a response. What was I supposed to say to that anyway? Maricio unbuttoned one of the buttons on his coat before sitting at the foot of my bed. The longer he stared at me I began to feel uncomfortable. I like it when men stare at me because I knew I was getting something out of it but with Maricio I knew I wasn't.

"Look, you know the reason why we aren't actually friends right?" I questioned him and watched a grin appear on his face.

"Enlighten me," he said, leaning forward on one of his hands.

I rolled my eyes but reminded him anyway. "The only reason I showed you any attention was because I needed your parents to notice mine."

"Continue."

"I did that and I cut you off the next day. I told you to tell your parents that we're still friends and you didn't argue about that."

"Right-"

"So why are we talking about this then?" I questioned. "We were never friends, Maricio. I had a task to do for my parents and being your real friend wasn't one of them."

"I know that," Maricio said. "But my parents don't."

"Keep it that way and stop making a big deal about it."

"Justin-"

"Leave my house," I said harshly.

Maricio stood up from his spot on my bed then turned away from me, making his way to my door. He opened it gently and then stepped out, closing it behind him. Once he was gone I suddenly had the growing feeling of punching something. My blood was boiling but I didn't know why. I let myself relax, letting all my thoughts go away before grabbing my phone from the head of my bed. I unlocked it and after that, everything else happened on its own. I went to Instagram, swiped to my messages, and tapped the first account. Then instantly my thumbs began to move across the keyboard, texting the user.

Me: I'm sorry

.

.

.