Saved by the bad boy

Chapter 14: Forgotten

We walk into his house, and the first thing I do is sit on his bed, and put my elbows on my knees, and my hands in my head.

I can't believe I'm here. I'm actually here with the bad boy of the school. The player.

I can't believe at the start of the year I actually thought he was the bad boy of the school. I mean sure, he drives a motorcycle, and slept with a lot of the girls in the school, but someone's actions shouldn't give them a title.

Like me. I'm the loser of the school, the weirdo, but I'm only those things because I'm different. I don't wear makeup, I don't wear tight, slutty like clothes. I wear sweatpants or leggings. It's stupid that the majority of the school (especially the girls) just care about what to wear to school. They might as well just stop going to school all together, since they don't even try to learn anything. The only reason they go to school is; A: their parents forced them too. B: They want to go to get laid, or C:They go only for the attention of the school(meaning, that they are popular, and love getting praised)

I go to school because I want to get a job. I want to be able to get money, and get my own house, and to do that, I need to go to school. It's also stupid that I get bullied for wanting that. I get bullied for getting good grades, and actually working my best in school. I get shoved when I show up to school in sweatpants. That's depressing. I'm not too sure how I ended up here. In Axel's room. Sitting on his bed. About to tell him my life story. Well, at least some of it. Probably just the part of how I got kicked out.

He walks out of the bathroom, and sits on his bed beside me. I sigh and lay down.

"Can we play twenty questions?" I ask him, hoping that he will tell me a little something about him too.

"Sure. I'll go first. How did you end up living on the streets?" He gets right into it.

"My step dad kicked me out. What happened to your sister?"

"She died." He said harshly.

Okay, touchy subject.

"Why did you not tell anyone that you were living on the streets?" He asks, his mood changing from serious to soft.

I sigh, "Why would I? It's pretty obvious that if I did say anyone, they would just laugh at me. And who would I tell?"

"That fucking dumb." He states bluntly.

I'm taken back, "The hell does that mean?"

I sit up, not feeling the mood to be laying down right now. Plus, I feel like I'll want to walk out of here as quickly as possible.

"At least one person on this earth will give a shit about you. Saying that no one does is bullshit."

"Yeah, well, everyone feels like that once in a while. Maybe you never do because you don't have a fucking heart." I snap at him.

He glares at me, "At least I'm not a fucking geek, Shorty."

I look at him in disbelief, "Short? I'm 5'5. That's not short!" I say dramatically.

He rolls his eyes, "Sure, sure."

"Whatever, asshole." I mumble.

"What was that sweet cheeks?" He teases.

"Sweet cheeks?" I question, trying to ignore the butterflies it my stomach when he says that.

"Yep. Sweet cheeks."

"I don't like it." I lie.

He smirks, "Too bad sweet cheeks. Besides, I know  you want this." He flexes, showing his muscles.