Chapter 7: Story Time

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Once I gave Randy my address and he started driving Zack turned on the radio.

"Let it go, let it go," blast through the speakers.

"Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door," I sing along with it.

"The snow glows white on the mountain tonight
Not a footprint to be seen
A kingdom of isolation, and it looks like I'm the queen
The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside
Couldn't keep it in
Heaven knows I tried

Don't let them in, don't let them see
Be the good girl you always had to be
Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know
We'll know they know

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door
And here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway

It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all
Up here in the cold thin air I finally can breathe
I know I left a life behind but I'm too relieved to grieve

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door
And here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway

Standing - frozen in the life I've chosen
You won't find me, the past is so behind me
Buried in the snow

Let it go, let it go
Can't hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go
Turn my back and slam the door
And here I stand
And here I'll stay
Let it go, let it go
The cold never bothered me anyway...
(Let the music go on)
Let it go, let it go
Let it go, let it go."

"Woah," exclaimed Zack. "That was..."

"Awesome, Sky," Randy finished.

I blush, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," they say in unison.

After that we blasted the music and sang along to all the different songs that came on. Btw, the guys were waaay off pitch.

Once we finally made it my house, I unlocked the front door while the guys grab my bags. So sweet.

"Why'd you get so much?" Randy complains.

"I barely got anything," I say looking at the bag in Randy's hand, "and because your brother let me. Now, follow me and I'll show you were you can sit those bags down." I lead them to my room and point to the couch sitting underneath the window.

"Wow. Nice room," Randy says.

I smile, "Thanks."

My room has chalkboard painted walls, black carpet, a white and black rug with a flower on it at the foot of my bed, my bed is black with a purple comforter and pillows, a writing desk where I draw, and a Nuevo Orbit Lounge chair.

After putting the bags on the couch Randy plops himself down in the writer desk chair and starts spinning around, and Zack lays down on my bed with his legs and arms spread with his head in the pillows. So, I sit in the lounge chair.

After a few minutes of silence Zack flips over and puts his hands under his head, "So, Skylar. Tell us about yourself."

"Well," I tilt my head in concentration, "when I was little, my family would move around a lot due to my dad being in the military. It made good money but my mom got tired off having to move around so much. After a while, they got a divorce but my dad still sends monthly checks to us. I'm trying to save up money for college so that's why I don't go and spend money on clothes and stuff. The only things I buy are Art supplies. It's my passion. I love to do it, if you couldn't tell." I point at the walls and all the drawings cover them. "After it's all covered I erase it all and start over."

They nod.

"Sorry about your dad," Zack says sympathetically.

"Yeah. That must've been tough," Randy agrees.

"It was," I say. "But it's okay now. My mom and I have a nice house and nice things. My dad still tries to visit when he can. That isn't very often though. We haven't seen him in 3 years."

They nod again.

"Anyways," I say, trying to change the subject, "what about you guys?"

"Where do we being?" Randy says with a laugh.

Zack chuckles lightly and then becomes serious, "Our mom died giving birth to us. Dad doesn't like to talk about her. He'll say that she was a good woman, and then shut everybody out. I've seen pictures of her though. We look just like her except for the eyes, we got our eyes from our dad. When we were five, dad explained to us what happened to mom and that Clary, our step-mom, was our step-mom. She's nice. She's always there for us. She's the best mother you could ask for. I sometimes wonder, and Randy probably does too, what our life would've been like if mom hadn't died. Would we be where we are? Or would we be somewhere else?" He looks at the ceiling thoughtful, "But yeah. After awhile dad couldn't stand being in the house that he and mom bought together, so we would up here. So, here we are. Sitting in the room of Skylar "The Artist" Evans. An amazing new friend," he gives a small, nervous smile.

"Wow," is all I can think to say.

They nod, "Yeah."

~~~~~

Sorry if that was a little short. But I wanted you guys to have a little incite on their childhoods.

I really hope guys liked it. I worked really hard on it.

Comment?

Love you guys! xx

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