Time after time

Chapter 3

Made by me^

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I turn my head slowly to look at him, is he serious? "Are you asking if I want to talk about my mom- my family- being ruined?"

Did I mean it to sound insulting to him? No, but I don't feel like talking about it to a guy I don't know. "Jesus, just asking," he replies holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry," I take a deep breath before continuing, "Sore subject."

"I can tell," he mutters. I feel bad about snapping. I lean against the bed next to him, wiping any tears from my face while doing so.

"Okay... then what about you?" Even though I'm looking forward, out of the corner of my eye I see his head turn to me cocked to the right. "What about me," he asks back.

"Why do you need watching over," I clarify. His head- scratch that his whole body- straightened up and looked forward like I did. "I got into some trouble where I lived. My parents asked your grandparents to take me in until I could straighten my act up."

What did he do? "Why did your parents ask my grandparents," I ask instead. He chuckles and looks over at me, who was now looking at him.

"I'm not answering any more questions until you answer some of mine."

"Okay, I'll answer your questions once you answer this one."

"My parents knew yours when they were little and lived in this town. They thought that I could do better here," he leans in s but closer to me and whispers," but between you and me, the only reason I am doing good is because your grandpa scares the shit out of me," he explains

"I could tell from earlier," I tease. He shakes  his head  and rolls his eyes. I can't help but to notice when his black wavy hair moves with his head.

"My turn to ask questions," he says smugly. "Whatever, ask away." I don't say it but I'm nervous he'll ask about my family, about my parents.

"Are you an only child?" I was right, he was going to ask about my family.

"Yes, technically I am now," I answer honestly. "What does that mean?"

".....When my mom... died.... so did my sister," I answer slowly. I make sure I don't let a single tear slip.

"I'm sorry about that," he tells me. He puts his hand on my knee and rubs circles where his thumb is.

"It's not your fault."

"Either way, you don't deserve that." He looks into my eyes and gives me an apologetic smile. I know I met him like two hours again but I think my impression on him was wrong. I don't even know why he was sent here, he doesn't seem like the type of person to get in trouble.