I'll Be Fine

The Day P!ATD Was Interrupted

Walking through halls. Attending classes that will do you no good until you go off to college. Wasting 7 hours a day, 5 days a week. Going home to a house where your mother's too busy to give you the time of day, and your father's passed out on your expensive, $1,000 couch (which your mother paid for) surrounded by beer bottles. Creep quietly through the maze of trash, old fast food containers, and beer bottles and cans. You don't want to wake up Mason. Go up the stairs softly and tip-toe past your mother's office. She works hard, and the house is her workplace. Wouldn't want to disturb her. Finally, at the end of the hall on your right, you open your bedroom door slowly, silently, and walk in, closing it softly all the same. You collapse into your soft comforter.

Ah. What I've waited all day for. So I can study for an exam two weeks from now that everyone else's already forgotten about. So I can blare my music into my headphones without receiving dirty looks from teachers. Or, more specifically, the librarian.

I load up my phone and headphones. I speak from experience when I say there's either a Panic! At The Disco or a Fall Out Boy song for any mood you're in.

I slip off my hoodie and black Converse high tops, relaxing into my bed and hitting play on my "After School" playlist. I have playlists for pretty much everything. Good mood? Got one for that. Bad mood? You betcha! Getting ready for school? Only my most important and second most used playlist, besides the after school playlist. What can I say? If there's one time of day where I'm bound to rely completely on my music to cheer me up, it's most definitely after school.

After the first three songs, I drift off into an elaborate daydream. I stop counting after 10 or 11.

"Champagne, cocaine, gasoline, and most things in between/I roam the city in a shopping cart, a pack of camels and a smoke alarm-" BAM BAM BAM.

My daydream is interrupted by knocking on my bedroom door. "Come in!" I shout, unsure of why Mason or mom would bother coming to talk to me. Oh crap!

I begin explaining quickly as my mom walks in. "I'm so sorry. If this is about the filet knife, it's in the second drawer, I forgot that you wanted to start putting the knives in-"

"What are you talking about?" She cuts me off, looking confused.

"O-oh, um, what are you talking about?" I inquire, suddenly less nervous than I was 3.5 seconds ago.

My mom gives me a funny look before continuing. "There's a new family that just moved in next door. One of our new neighbors is in the kitchen. I'd-"

"Mom," I cut her off kindly, knowing where this conversation is going, "I'd love to keep them entertained and then kindly ask them to leave so you can go back to your very important job."

She smiles at me, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. Years of strenuous hard work and being cooped up in the office all day would do the same to anyone, though.

"Thanks sweetie, you're a lifesaver!" She calls over her shoulder, already retreating back to her office. I hear the door click shut, and I know that's all I'll hear from her for the rest of the day. Possibly for the rest of the week. Scratch that: probably all I'll hear from her for the rest of the week.

I sigh, turning off my music. Even though it kills me inside, Brendon will have to wait.

I trot down the stairs, taking them two at a time. There's just something I love about new neighbors. Probably since they come so rarely. I might not be the most popular person but this way I have first dibs on any hot guys in my neighborhood. I chuckle to myself. I can't even think along those lines with a straight face, considering music and cliche romance novels make up all my spare time out of school. Okay, in school too.

I make it down the stairs and walk into the kitchen. There, sitting in my average kitchen, absorbing all the sunlight in the room while playing on his phone, is the hottest guy in my school. Gotham Jones. Chiseled cheekbones. Rock hard abs. 6"7 of absolute beauty. Also sitting there is a huge jerkwad. They've really lowered the standards of who they let into this place...

Pfft, not that I noticed or anything...

I spend a second too long staring at him because he looks up from his phone and catches me staring. Smirking, he asks, "Aren't you that nerd from school?"

Ouch. I'd like to say I've never had a fantasy about me and him, but I have, and that's sure as hell not how I'd imagine our first conversation would go...

I quickly look away, trying not to let his question bother me. "Gee, could you be a little more specific? Last time I checked, I'm more than just a nerd." The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I cover my mouth, looking down.

But much to my surprise, I hear Gotham laughing. When he responds, his voice is deep and husky. I could listen to that voice all day...

"You could?" he asks. Oops. Did I say that out loud? "You weren't supposed to hear that." I quickly respond, embarrassed. My cheeks are bright red, I can feel the heat coming off them.

"So you're not gonna deny it?" He asks, his voice lined with humor. "No." I retort. "Now what do you want?" At this, he chuckles again. "Now is that any way to talk to company?" I take a moment to consider this. On the one hand, this is the Gotham Jones! On the other hand, it's Gotham Jones, AKA the school's biggest player.

"Probably not, but if you just came here because you're looking for another easy slut you're more of an idiot than I expected." I say before I can stop myself. After all, what's the point in being nice? Come tomorrow morning, his visit to my house will be fresh gossip anyway. Might as well give 'em something to gossip about.

He doesn't respond right away, and I don't need to look up to know he's got that "Oh you did not just go there bitch" expression. But when I look up, he's smirking. He eventually responds, "Gotta love a woman that can keep you on your feet. You busy tonight?"

I scoff and grab his collar, attempting to shove him towards the door. What is this guy made of?? Steel??

My attempts are fruitless. He doesn't budge and the ever-expanding smirk on face says he didn't miss the fact that I willingly touched him.

*BEEP BEEP* WARNING. PERV ALERT. I REPEAT, PERV ALERT. ERROR. ERROR.

Gotham starts to open his mouth but I point towards the door. He seems to get the message and leaves, his arms raises as if in surrender.

I'm beyond ticked right now. A. Why should I have to deal with this crap in my own house? B. I can't believe Hunter asked me if I'm busy later! Do I look like the type of person that ever has plans?! C. Mom could've warned me that the school's biggest douchebag was sitting in our kitchen!

I storm up to my room, slamming the door. I flinch right as it happens, reflexively locking my door. Too late. " SOPHIA!" Mason roars from downstairs.

Shit...I think I figured out what happens when you wake a bear from hibernation...

I mentally scold myself. After all, comparing the two is an insult to the hibernating bear.