Learning From The Bad Boy

Poetic Advice

Axel:

I waited until I knew she was actually asleep. I wasn't tired. In fact, I was the opposite. Seeing the way Celia's mother treated her daughter pissed me off.

How anyone could give the little ginger a look like that or indirectly call her stupid was beyond me.

A dull look had filled her usually happy eyes. The way she brushed off the insult had screwed with me even more.

I eased away from her, attempting to make my way out of the room quietly. Venturing downstairs, I saw both of my parents sitting together on our couch.

My dad wasn't my father by blood. Mom had married him around the time I turned six, being that my real dad had skipped out on us both.

He had raised me like his own son and was there when my mom needed him.

I cleared my throat, making myself known to them.

"Where's Celia? Is she staying for dinner? Is there a certain time she needs to be home?" My mom questioned.

I held up my hands in mock surrender from her rapid fire inquiries.

"She's upstairs, she fell asleep trying to get me to cooperate."

Not a total lie.

I hopped over the back of the couch in spite of my mom who hates it when I, and I  quote, "treat her furniture like a jungle gym".

She only scowled at me while my dad smiled.

I leaned back and sighed.

"What's wrong?" My mom asked.

Maybe I was a mama's boy by nature, but she knew me well.

"I don't really want her to leave."

I rubbed a hand through my hair, "Her mom, she's awful. I wasn't even around the woman for five minutes and I already know she's a bitch."

"Watch your language, and why do you say so?"

I shrugged, "She literally insulted her own daughter. Not with exact words, but I knew what she meant. What she was trying to say. I don't get it."

The motherly nature that my mom had was absent in Celia's mother.

"That poor girl."

My dad leaned forward, taking his tie off. "Would someone like to catch me up? I'm lost."

I held up a hand, making a one second motion, before heading back upstairs.

She was still asleep, only now she was curled up. Chill bumps were on her arms, and her fiery hair curled on her cheek.

I fell back on the bed.

"Ginger." I stretched the word, trying to wake her.

She mumbled something, but didn't open her eyes.

"Time to wake up."

One eyelid cracked only slightly, "Noooooooo."

Her eyes closed again.

Stubborn.

I stood up, and put my arms under her, lifting her off of the bed.

Instead of trying to scramble out of my hold, she let out a contented sigh and pressed her face against my chest.

I kicked the door open, and headed back downstairs.

She's going to hate me in a second.

I stopped at the back of the couch.