When I stepped back into my room Robert was sitting on my desk chair looking a little spaced out.
“Rob?” I asked, trying not to startle him.
“What did she say?” he asked me, avoiding looking at me and trying not to sound like he cared.
“She said she is,” I whispered as I sat down on my bed.
He laughed, “That’s perfect, that’s just perfect; you’re grandma thinks she’s a witch.”
“She doesn’t think she’s a witch; she is a witch,” I snapped, suddenly getting defensive.
“Oh yeah,” he said sarcastically, “and you believe her, because…”
“Because she’s telling the truth, why can’t you just accept that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because there’s no such thing as a witch? I mean Jesus, it’s not like we live in the stone-age or something.”
“No,” I said stubbornly.
“No what? No you believe her? Well what’s your valid reason behind that, huh?”
“Because I’m a witch too,” I admitted, “and it makes sense.”
“It makes sense my ass. You know I’m not going to believe anything that outrageous Dianna.”
“It’s true,” I said. I was going to make him see the truth whether he wanted to or not.
“God Dianna, do you actually expect me to believe this? I mean seriously, just say ‘just kidding’ and get it over with cause I’m done with your jokes. You’ve taken it too far Dianna. Are you gonna take it back and tell me the truth?”
“I already told you the truth,” I whispered grudgingly, he wasn’t making this any easier.
“Jesus christ Dianna, you really do think that’s true don’t you? God, I didn’t realize my best friend was a lune! They shouldn’t have named you Dianna, they should have named you Luna; you’re such a lunatic. God I’m out of here.”
“Wait, don’t go Rob.”
“Stop calling me that my name is Robert. And don’t bother calling me either, I’m going to wipe your lunatic-ness out of my life for good.”
“If you don’t believe in witches than what made you have me ask my grandmother whether she was one?”
He paused at the top of the stairs and I looked at him from my bedroom door. After a moment he just walked down to the door.
“Robert-,” I began as he opened the door.
“Oh, and thank the kid that beat me up; without him I wouldn’t have found out that you were such a psycho.”
YOU ARE READING
Carry Me Home
JugendliteraturShe doesn't trust anyone, she can't tell anyone who she is, and she's finally found someone she wants to be with. But he's hiding a secret; just like her...
