"I don't know, Jaxx!" I exclaimed into the phone, crossing the kitchen to pour out my bowl of finished cereal. "She stopped calling about two hours ago."
I heard impatient teenagers yell orders in the background of The Shack. "Why won't you call her then?"
"Because I don't even know if I want to forgive her."
A sigh came from her end. "Come out with me tonight. You need some fun."
"I don't know.."
"You're comin'. Meet me at The Shack." And she hung up.
"Well that's that." I muttered to myself as I pocketed my phone.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
I smoothed down my blazer, (father had checked in on me this morning before leaving so I had to change into a suit), and walked to the door. Usually, I didn't mind getting the door. Letting others do my own work always left me uncombortable. Obviously, my father thought otherwise.
I opened the door, revealing a stout man in a suit similar to mine.
"Hello. John?" He asked, a fake smile plastered while he scratched his bald head.
I shook my head, holding out a hand to his. "His son, Elliot. Come in."
The man stepped in, important looking papers gripped in his hands.
"Mr. Frick! Welcome!" My father strode down the staircase like he was a contestant in a beauty pageant.
I quietly snorted at his name. Mr. Frick?
They both looked at me, my father shooting my a death glare.
I cleared my throat, quietly excusing myself.
~~~~~~~~~~
Through the walls, I could make out bits and pieces of their discussions. Something about down town L.A, and the date of their destruction.
Destruction. Yep, he actually used that word. Somehow I thought of Hailey.
I stepped into the porch overlooking the Olympic sized pool. My thoughts eventually wandered to none other then her.
And I started to think of that night two days ago. Her teary eyes and her sniffling state of bafflement. I had conflicting emotions; I wanted to either hug and comfort her, or leave her for the police to handle.
As much as I tried to leave her in the past, convince myself she was a minor distraction that got in the way and became an obstacle, her beautiful self always diverted those fleeting thoughts.
Was she really bad for me? My father was usually right about things. Was she good for me? I wasn't sure.
At that moment, I realized Hailey was something that never should've happened. Sure, the universe led her to my house that night she had to pee. But she could've easily gone to the neighbors, flirted with one my age, gotten the same conclusion.
Nothing made sense. I didn't know what to do. Forgive her? Just like that? For lying to me about almost everything?
"Elliot?" Damion's voice asked from behind me.
I didn't turned around. "Yes?"
"You have a visitor."
I turned around, and was faced with Hailey.
Though my brain screamed at me not to, my wild eyes lingered on her face for longer then it should've. Her beautiful hair flowed down, her bright blue eyes blinked at me, and her lips, oh those lips, bit eachother in a nervous way.
YOU ARE READING
Saving Elliot ©2015 Sydney Wray
Teen FictionElliot was the type of boy who was proper; he never attended the parties, didn't care about his own social status, and never wandered over wild girls-let alone a girl in the first place. If anything, his father expected a proper girl, quite like Ell...