Sweet Poison

Sweet Poison (39)

Eli's P.O.V

"Dude stop blasting your music!" Dylan hollered, storming into my room.

Without even batting an eye, I looked at him dead in the face and turned it up even more.

A chuckle of indignation fell from his mouth."Real nice," Dylan sneered, walking over to my stereo.

I propped myself up, eyes watching him in suspicion."What are you doing?"

He ignored me and went behind my stereo. Seconds later the music abruptly stopped. I looked at him like he was nuts.

"Sorry, but just because you lost Elissa doesn't mean you have to take it out on me."

I sighed tiredly and plopped onto my back on my bed."I don't know what to do man." Stressed fingers ran over my face as I took a deep breath.

"How do I get her back?" I mumbled. That was the constant question that has ran through my mind. No matter how I thought it out though, I couldn't figure out what to do. Every idea I came up with was followed by the conclusion of her rejecting me. Hell, after everything that has went down between Wade and I and Shelby and her, I wouldn't blame her but I still wanted another chance.

"She was really hurt," Dylan added, stating the obvious.

I glared at him. "Don't you think I know that? What about you hmm?" I growled. I expected him to be slightly surprised at my abrupt conversation changer, but he didn't look slightly caught off guard by my confronting tone. His answer surprised me.

"She knew I was cheating on her. What is up with that, and she still wanted to go out with me. I must be good." He grinned conceitedly, leaning on my wall.

"So you're still going out with her?" I asked, eyebrows perplexed. And I use to think I was the Casanova.

From his leaning post, he crossed his arms. "Naw, I broke up with her. I would just hurt her in the end and plus I've seen the influence those girls have on a guy. In fact, I'm staring at one who seems to be severely whipped." He shrugged, "and Elissa would get me....bad."

I frowned at the sound of her name and what he said, but look at me. She had called it quits and instead of finding a girl to make me forget, which would be extremely easy and more like myself, I was sulking in my room like a little bitch.

"You look pathetic." Dylan mumbled.

Another glare was directed his way. "Um anyways uh you still writing poetry or whatever?" He asked under the intensity of my glare. He knew my temper was bad.

"I haven't it did it lately." I muttered.

Why did he even cared about my poetry? Usually he made fun of me about my hobby. Yes, I wrote poetry. When I was growing up, it was the only way I could let out my feelings in a non-violent way. Fighting had always been my outlet but after multiple visits to the hospital, a few suspensions, and one expulsion, my mom finally had enough and got me a therapist. The therapist found me an outlet, and surprisingly I liked it and stuck with it.

He nodded. "Maybe you can write her a poem or something like that or something saying you love everything about her since you do love her." He smiled obnoxiously. I knew he was just trying to patronize me about me being so called whipped, I ignored him.

"Yeah I do" I smiled confidently, words full of conviction.

To my surprise, Dylan let out a relieved sigh. "You need to get her back because she is the only girlfriend of yours that I like...having a pretty face and a nice ass helps me like her too." He grinned.