Life in the Shadows

13.

Song contains explicit content. 
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"You just don't act like a normal teenager does. There's nothing wrong with being different; you, though, you isolate yourself. I have nothing against alone time and stuff, but you seem to spend too much time by yourself. Not only are mom and dad worried, but I am too."

His words, for an odd reason, cause my blood to boil.

"There's nothing wrong with me," I state plainly. "You have no idea what it's like for me. I get it, you're trying to help, but please, just stop."

~

The rest of the ride home was awkward.

Very, very awkward.

I was pissed. Beyond words.

Jack didn't even try talking to me, and that added fuel to my anger. I would've been more mad if he did try to talk to me, though.

Much to Jack's dismay, I slammed the door to his truck on the way inside the house.

"Maggie," Jack calls, "I'm sorry,"

"I don't believe you. But you should be sorry," I bite back.

"Why don't you believe me?" He asks, grabbing my arm and leading me to the living room.

"Do you seriously believe that I have a problem with being alone? I have more of a problem with being around people than I do being by myself."

"Why, though? I don't get it,"

"Of course you don't,"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, clearly offended.

"You're Jack Johnson: people want to either be around you, or be you. You're easy to talk to, you have friends that have been there since day one, you're famous, you are the most sociable person I have ever encountered; you rarely shut your trap." I answer bitterly.

He looks at me, searching for any emotion besides sourness, and waits a moment to answer.

"Maggie," he begins slowly, "this doesn't have to do with me. I want to help you. I know this isn't you. I want you to be happy,"

"I am happy," I answer angrily.

He chuckles. "Happy? Not really. Salty is the word I was thinking."

"I'm glad this is a joke to you, you fucking asshole," I stand up and walk to the staircase.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Whatever. Have fun at Sam's. I'll see you later,"

I shut and lock my door before he can answer.

Pressing my back against the wall, I slide down, hugging my knees to my chest.

I don't even realize I'm crying until I taste the salty tears, soaking my face and sleeves.

Why am I even crying about this? There are bigger issues in the world than me not being able to make friends.

"Maggie, let me in; we need to talk," Jack knocks on my door.

"Why? Are you gonna tell mom and dad if I don't, so that they'll really start to think I'm crazy?"

"I need to talk to you,"

"I don't want to talk to you, though,"

"Please?"

"Go away, Jack. I'm not in the fucking mood."

I hear his footsteps walk away from my room, and start to feel guilt rising from the pit of my stomach.