Perspective

Chapter Sixteen

"You make a grown man cry"

***

It's Thursday, and I'm back at work.

My patience today is about as strong as my will to live, almost non-existent.

Mum gets home on Sunday and I'm dreading it. I haven't heard from her so far which is a bonus though, but I'm sure she's having a fantastic time making me look like the worst person in the world while she's an innocent little lamb to my sister.

It's just part of what she does.

I'm always the bad guy, unless I'm doing exactly what she wants or giving her exactly what she wants. If I'm not doing that then I am for lack of a better term, Satan. I am an evil monster being awful to a poor helpless victim.

Her.

She's always the victim, always will be. Even if she's the one doing the awful things.

In theme with people I haven't heard from, Smirky seems to have taken the hint and left me alone completely.

I can't figure out why I'm not happier about that.

After he left my house on Tuesday morning, and I spent the evening with Frankie; I didn't hear a peep from him.

There was no randomly showing up at my door, and I didn't even see him today when I dropped off Gizmo.

Why did that make my stomach drop? Why was there that pang of dissapointment?

I got what I wanted, so why is it making me feel like shit?

Well, more like shit than I usually feel.

My last few journal entries have all been surrounding the same thing since Saturday.

Green eyes.

All the questions I have surrounding the things I can't figure out since I met him.

Why do I even care in the first place? Why the hell am I always catching myself thinking about him?

It's irritating.

"Earth to Drew!"

Fingers snapping infront of my face jolts me out of my black hole vortex I fall into, when I'm thinking too much. Staring off for good knows how long while my brain plays a mental game of ping pong a hundred mile an hour.

God I'd do anything to be able to turn it off, to just have some quiet for once. Instead of the constant thoughts that race around screaming like nails down a chalk board.

I blink at Sam, who is standing in front of me with an amused expression.

I'm still shocked he hasn't fired me, and I can't say I understand why he hasn't yet.

Sam folds his large tattooed toned arms in front of his chest, looking like the hulk - if the hulk looked like he stepped out of the Amazon lumberjack edition of some sports illustrated body builder magazine.

He is a contradiction, he looks like he could kill a giant deer with his bare hands, and eat the meat straight off the bone whilst at the same time being the closest thing to the human version of an adorable dumb baby panda I've ever met.

"Glad to have you back" he smiles, his cheeks pulling up to make his bright hazel eyes glint "How was your little holiday in your head? Meet anyone new?"

I give him a flat look, with a dry tone "You ever think about becoming a comedian Boss? Because you're hilarious"

Sam scratches his fingers against the bearded scruff of his angular jaw, with a wide grin looking down his nose at me "Glad we both agree that I'm a funny fucker"