Jackie

8- Trust

I sat huddled up on my bed with my knees up towards my chest and my arms down by my feet flipping the pages of my notebook.

I had used the notebook as a diary since I was 9 years old, so it's about 7 years old. It brought me comfort reading the problems of my 10 year old self. I wish the fact that having a crush on Micheal Bianchi was still my biggest problem.

When I was 9, I told my parents all I wanted for my birthday was my very own diary like the girls at school talked about. We were still very low class living at that time, so they bought me this pink notebook with a purple bow printed on it instead. I didn't mind it, it was still so amazing for me. It showed me that my parents really cared to try and make me happy.

It was a very big notebook, larger than most, and I already write pretty small handwriting. That's not the only reason it's lasted 7 years though, I honestly only wrote in it maybe once a week if I was lucky. I wanted it to last as long as possible. I think it can still fit about a month or two in it before it's filled for sure.

As I got to the diary entry about having my first kiss at 12, the doorknob rattled. Someone was on the other side trying to open it. I closed the notebook and put it under my pillow. My breathing got heavy and fast. It really wasn't helping that I was paranoid about an hour ago.

"Jackie? It's me Dallas. Open up would ya?" He yelled from the door. Why the hell was he at my door. "I'm not sleeping with you." I snapped back. "Well that offer ain't on the table anymore. Would ya open the damn door?" He yelled.

I got up from the bed and unlocked the door and opened it. "What, are you gonna make fun of me for my household problems? Y'know since your nosy and read all my business." I asked him with a frown. "Nah, I did come by about that though, and don't worry I didn't tell anyone about it." He said as he leaned on the door frame. I scoffed at him but deep down I was glad he didn't tell anyone.

He stayed in the door way while I went and sat on the edge of my bed. "Well are you just gonna stand there like a creep or talk?" I asked. "I'm uh, sorry to hear about your parents y'know kid, your dad really screwed you guys over huh." He asked with his head down. I nodded.

"Anyway, I came by to say that being from New York, I know that any mob ain't one to be messed with. And it sounds like your dad messed with em bad. I also know that they go to pretty big measures to get a message across, and while I think you're safe here, there's always a chance you're not. Just wanted you to know you can trust the gang, they're not bad, and they'll gladly help you. They're all good kids, especially Johnny. You should stick with em while you're here." He said while looking up at me. I was confused, he said I could trust them, but not him?

"Why can't I trust you?" I asked confused and looked up into his eyes. He sighed and looked back down. "Just not a trust worthy fella. I get people into trouble, not out, even if I tried." He answered while walking out of the room and down the hallway. I mean, I wasn't surprised, but it was a little sad to see that he thought that about himself. No, what? No, I cannot feel sympathy for Dallas Winston. That's gross and he doesn't deserve sympathy.

But then again, maybe he does?