T.T--As in?

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Chapter Two

Picture of Austin

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(Austin’s P.O.V.)

I woke up at seven on the dot; I guess I was just use to it. I turned over and saw Cameron sleeping. It scared the hell out of me, I forgot he was here. School starts in forty-five minutes, I smirked. Well, well…Let’s just make you a little late. I carefully got out of bed, turned the alarm off, and put my clothes on. I walked over to his bag and pulled out his shoes. Then I tied the shoelaces together. I walked downstairs and grabbed some food.

“Hey Austin.” My dad said to me while drinking his coffee and reading the morning paper

“Hi.” I said in monotone

“Where’s Cameron?”

“Uh. He is getting ready, he said just go and he will catch up.” My dad nodded and I took off to school on my motorcycle. I barley road it to school because it annoyed me, but today I needed to get there fast. I hopped on and started the engine, then road off. I got to school at seven thirty, Cameron only has fifteen minutes, and it takes that long to walk here. I walk over to my kinda girlfriend, not really, but she thinks I am her boyfriend—nah baby, I just wanna get in your pants, which I already have—Next girl!

She kissed me “Hey baby” she said seductively and batted her eyelashes. Her name is—Monẽ? She has long brown hair and green eyes, downright sexy. Buuuut she is a slut, and probably has more STD’s than I have had hook-ups—and let me tell you, that’s a lot. My first time was when I was thirteen, now I am sixteen and I hook up with AT LEAST one girl a week, when I go to parties, it could get up to three that night.

“I am breaking with you.” Her expression dropped and she started crying

“W-w-whyy? I-I-I can change!” She kept blubbering on, and on, and on. Fucking girls sometime, I swear.

“Listen Monẽ--“

“My name is Monica.”

“Right…It’s not you...it’s me.” I lied then walked away, leaving her to drown in her tears. The school bell rang and I headed to class—which, Cameron won’t be in.

(Cameron’s P.O.V.)

“Cameron, Cameron, wake up.” I was being shaken away for the second time.

“What.” I mumbled, swatting whoever hands, hoping they would go away. This bed is so damn comfortable.

“You are late for school” I opened my eyed and gave Charlie a death glare. I know we are in his house and all, but he said just do whatever we would normally do, and if I woke up late I wouldn’t go to school. I pulled the blanket over my face, trying to fall back asleep. He wouldn’t let me; he just kept talking, and talking. Finally I gave up and got out of bed.

“I’ll go.” I put my hands up in surrender

“Fantastic.” He smiled and left the room, closing the door behind him. I walked over to my bag and picked out some clothes. White shirt, black skinny jeans, and a leather jacket. Perfect. I went to put my shoes on, and noticed they were tied together. Oh silly Austin, you only do that when they are already on someone’s feet. And I’M the one failing school? Fucking idiot. I untied and slipped my shoes on and grabbed my journal, pen, IPod, and earphones, then left. I take my journal everywhere with me. You see, in fifth grade my teacher started to worry about me, sooo she gave me a journal to write in. And ever since then, I have been writing in it. I just hope I don’t lose it and someone reads everything in it—that would be horrible. It has everything from my secrets, to my home life, to my school life, to my celebrity crushes. I could just imagine. Anyways, my parents thought it was stupid, and that writing my feelings down would make me gay. Like seriously? What is if was gay? They would hate me even more! They think I am gay because I never have girls over; I have never had a girlfriend…or even my first kiss. But honestly, I don’t mind…it just doesn’t bother me like it would someone else. Besides, I have never had feelings for a girl like that, like, ever. It’s probably because I was so isolated when was younger to now.

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