Being Nice Is For Losers (DISCONTINUED)

_-*11*-_

I groaned as my alarm blared. Fuck mornings. I yawned and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, sitting up and kicking my covers back.

Wait. Covers? I swore I fell asleep next t- Cole. He must have carried me to bed or something. I am not blushing. I am not blushing. Why am I blushing!?

I forced myself to get up, pushing the thoughts to the back of my mind. I took a shower and got dressed, fixing my hair and makeup while I listened to music.

A smile stretched across my face as Walk by Pantera blared through my speakers. I couldn't help it, I bounced around and flung my hair in whichever direction to the beat of the music. I mouthed the lyrics as I danced. What can I say? I'm a metalhead, it's gonna happen.

The next song had me grinning wider. You're Going Down by Sick Puppies. This was my shit. I continued to dance around without a care in the world. Well, I didn't care until I caught sight of a certain smirking delinquent leaning against my door frame.

"Are you a fucking stalker or some shit, Jesus," I muttered as my face grew bright red.

"Not quite but that was cute as hell," he laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck after he spoke and surprisingly enough he was blushing too.

"I am not cute," I glared, positive my cheeks would melt off any time soon.

"Sure kitten," he laughed before walking further into my room. "Here, I forgot to give it to you yesterday." Cole held out the book I had picked up at Walmart.

"This is what you had to get?" I asked, a brow and he nodded.

"Was that the right one?"

"Yeah, but why'd you get it?" I looked from the book up to him only to see him shrug.

"You seemed interested in it and I felt like being nice."

"Well, that's a rare occasion," I chuckled and he rolled his eyes, doing the same.

"Don't get used to it kitten." I mimicked his eye roll but couldn't help my small smile.

"Thanks, Cole," I grinned and messed his hair up.

"Asshole," he groaned as he fixed it.

"Feel my pain." I finished getting ready as I talked to Cole. Freshman me would have laughed in your face and called you an absolute idiot if you said Cole and I would be talking civilly, even friendly, in one room together. But here we are.

"Is that you?" he asked pointing to a picture of me and Nate when we were much younger. He had his arm around me and we were smiling brightly. I was wearing blue jeans and a purple shirt with a butterfly on it.

I was normal then.

I flipped the frame down with a bit too much force, not speaking another word. "Are you okay?" Cole asked, I must have glared by accident.

"Mhm," I said simply. His look showed he didn't believe me.

"Don't lie. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," I said a bit harsher than I meant to. So much for having a friendly conversation.

"Why are you so closed off?" he asked out of the blue.

"That's none of your business," I snapped.

"Why not?"

"Why do you care?" I turned to face him, glaring daggers.

"All I did was ask if that was you in a picture and you shut down. Why can't anyone know anything about you? Why won't you open up to anyone?" he asked, his tone hardening just slightly as he took a step closer.