The Boy Next Door

"Trust me."

V

HottieNextDoor: Brooklynn you'll be fine! Stop worrying. It's late. You really should be getting to bed.

Dinner had been over a few hours ago. Everyone enjoyed my home made pizza, Justin being the one who liked it the most. He ended up eating five slices. I guess he was right. He is a "big guy". But you wouldn't know that by just looking at him. If you would just see his body, you'd think he was strictly on a pure almond diet. His figure was something from a magazine, I bet it took him forever to sculpt his body to the piece of perfection that it is right now.

After Pattie and Justin left, Justin tented me. It was kind of a shocker, because if you ask me, I still think he despise of me, and my New Yorkern attitude. He'd get over it, eventually. At this point in time, Me and Justin were still in the middle of texting, after about 3 hours. Our conversations were all over the place. One second we'd be talking about our favorite TV shows, his being 'Smilingly', and mine being, 'Pretty Little Liars', the next thing you know, we'd be talking about rather females are smarter than males. If you ask me, I'm pretty sure I won that argument. I've observed that Justin isn't really the type of guy that admits he's wrong, even when there's solid hard evidence that clearly, and underlay proves that females are in fact smarter then males. I've got a lot to teach that boy. If you're wondering about his name, Yes, he put his name in my phone as 'Hottie Next Door'. Immature if you ask me. But Justin insisted I keep it, so I didn't bother to change it.

Me: Says the one who isn't even going!

HottieNextDoor: There's a logical, and explainable reason for me not going. You just don't wanna go because you don't want too.

Me: You may be right, but what's the reason why you're not going? Justin it's senior year! I'm sure whatever happened isn't that bad.

HottieNextDoor: With all do respect, you don't know what happened, so you have no right to say it isn't that bad.

Me: Well you can always tell me ya know.

HottieNextDoor: It would be best if you
didn't know.

Me: Please?

I kinda figured he wouldn't tell me, if you'd take one took at Justin, you could see he was full of secrets. Almost as if he had the word 'Diary' was spread across his forehead. I remember one time, mom, dad, and I were all in the kitchen of our New York apartment. It was about 8:30AM, and I had just came down stairs after being woken up by the heavenly smell of my mothers chocolate chip pancakes. Well, as I made myself to the table, I could sense the tension in the room, normally, dad would be standing over mom's shoulder with his famous, and delicious, if I must add, cup of joe in his hand. I'd hear the radio muffling the sound of a classical music player, maybe Beethoven, or maybe Tchaikovsky, you'd have to ask my mother, but my dad just sat at the table, no classical music in the background, no fresh coffee being made, just dead silence, well besides the sizzling of the pancakes. Looking at my fathers face, the word 'diary' imaginarily appeared across his forehead. "What's wrong dad," I asked, clearly confused by the unusual scenery. "Your mother and I are leaving again, we've been assigned another house improvement duty," He murmured. Getting up and walking to the other side of the table. Lightly placing his palms on my shoulders. "How long this time daddy," I questioned. He just looked at me. I got the clue it was going to be a while. That was the last time I seen them. Besides the point, dad always told me, 'If someone wants to tell you something, they'll let you know, don't hound them into telling you if they truly don't want too Brooklynn.' His wise words repeat in my head. In all reality, it was harder than it sounded. I needed to know. It would drive me crazy not knowing.