Love Isn't Just Romance

I'm Not a Friendly Type of Person

     Recap:

He sped away and I stopped running. I stopped running for answers because I knew right now that he didn't want me. He should've saw me and stopped. 

       He didn't turn back. He didn't care. 

     I wiped the sweat away from my forehead and began to walk home, except I took a right when I should've taken a left along the way so it made the route a little bit longer, but right now, I didn't want anyone with me. 

     Why?

     Because my dad left me. And this time, I knew he didn't want me.

...................................................................................

       I'm Not a Friendly Type of Person

     "Stormy! Where have you been?" Dallas growled at me as I locked the front door behind me as I locked the front door behind me and walked through the living room. I ignored him-not even a glance, but just as I was about to reach the stairs, he pulled me back by my wrist. Dallas looked down at me with such vexation, it made his normally kind eyes seem cruel and dark. To be honest, it scared the living day lights out of me. Dallas Knight enraged is never a good sight. He gets offended very easily and it seems as though his conscience stops working. Last time, he beat up this guy so badly he passed out. If we let him carry on, he probably would've killed that guy. I even think that he was hospitalized for quite some time. 

     I wrenched my wrist away with all my strength and succeeded; I let my indicting gaze linger on his for a couple seconds more before making way upstairs. Unfortunately, just as I was about to open the door to my room, I saw my mom emerge from her room across the hall. I gasped. 

     "Mom." She stopped and stared at me, tilting her head to the side.

     "What's the matter, Stormy?" She asked, sweetly, walking to me so she can place her hand on my forehead. "You don't seem to be sick. What's wrong? Stomach flu? Ur appendix? Because you know you still haven't had that taken o-"

     "Your hair." was all it took. That simple answer made my mom run back into her room. And that same thing stopped me. But why was her hairline off? It's always been in the middle, not off to the side. And why was her hair uneven? Oh well. It's just hair. 

     I shrugged and went into my room without another thought about her hair, locking the door behind me. It was a simple room with a twin-sized bed with black sheets and pillows, a desk with a laptop, a small bathroom, and a decent sized closet. Pretty much everything in my room was black, with an exception to the dark blue walls and my redwood floors. 

      Just like a routine, I blasted some rock music from my phone that came out from my black bluetooth speaker I placed ontop of my desk, next to my laptop. My backpack laid on its back sloppily under the desk as I began to go on my laptop. I scrolled through my facebook account to see a notification, which was weird because no one knew about my Facebook except one person, but why would she bother? She was popular; I wasn't. It just wasn't normal. 

     I clicked on it while biting on my thumb nail on my left hand-a bad habit that I had- as I clicked the globe. Turns out it was a friend request. Wait, what? A friend request? I clicked on the little bar to take me to who wanted to be my friend. 

     Abel Dylans.

     I leaned back in my chair and groaned. What's with this guy? 

     "And ignore friend request." I thought aloud as I pressed the 'ignore' button. A few seconds later, I got another notification. It was a private message...from Abel Dylans.