TROUBLED (completed) (re-writing)

Chapter Sixteen [Its Loud Enough In My Head]

A/N

OHMYGOSH! Thank you guys so much for getting this story #294 in Teen Fiction! I am seriously hysteric! I really didn't expect this story to get more than 5 votes, and now its ranking! I know #294 isn't that much, but this just means that you guys can continue to get my story higher: ) I can't thank you enough Bookworms; )

xxxx

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Please forgive me

if I don't talk much at times.

Its loud enough in my head.

-Unknown.

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Ryder brought me to a Waffle House. Not your typical breakfast and lunch place, more like an old friendly building with many old people sitting around checkered tables with hot cups of coffee and funnel cake looking breakfasts.

"I've never been here." Ryder confesses as he holds the door open for me. "I have always wanted to eat here, but figured it would be a bit odd for an eighteen year old guy coming in here alone."

"So you're using me?" I joke with amusement.

"Yepp. Kinda." I shake my head at his stupidity. Only he would admit to that.

"What do you want to get?" A minute later we are sitting at a small booth in the middle of the restaurant.

"Nothing."

"You haft to at least try..."

"I'm not hungry." I say angrily.

"Come on Sally, please, at least let me get you something small..?" He looks at me with such a strong look in his eyes that its hard to say no.

"Fine... But please don't make me eat it if I can't." I feel so annoyed with myself. Why am I letting him talk me into eating? This is ridiculous. I need to disconnect myself from him.

A tired looking waitress walks up to our table telling us her name is Jasmine. "What can I get you kids this lovely morning?"

Ryder glances down at the menu abashedly. I look down at my hands. "Uh, I'll have the pumpkin pancakes, and she'll get the fruit variety thing." Ryder tells the waitress. She smiles. "I'll get that to you as so as I can dear." She than walks off with a chuckle.

I look up surprised. He ordered for me? I didn't even haft to ask. . ."You didn't need to do that. . ."

"I wanted to, don't worry about it."

I stare at his face. I feel almost like considering everything he has done for me, I need to repay him. There's no reason for him to be doing these things for me. I study his face of perfection, the way his light sand colored eye's change to an almost woodsy brown when he see's something that doesn't appease him. The drawl of his mouth when he has it in a kind smile. The strangely attractive eyebrow piercing that I would say may look tacky on anyone but a punk singer, he pulls it off with his edgy style. And lastly, the way he treats me like a normal person. Yes sure, sometimes he can act too protective, but he acknowledges me... And thats the reason I might never be able to bring myself to shut him out.

"Sally, I know I'm hot and all, but staring at me like your about to relest me, that's not cool." Ryder complained.

"Relest?" I repeat confused.

He looks at me like I'm crazy, "Yeah. You know, like rape and molest put together, relest." He blathered.

"You- you need mental help." I chide.

"Says the one that doesn't know what relest means. . ." He says under his breath. I decide to let it slide, after all the waitress is on her way over here. A plate a steaming hot pancakes in one hand, and a bowl of what I assume is fruit in the other.

"Here ya' go sweets." The elderly dark skinned woman smiles at both of us.

"Thank you Jasmine." Ryder gently takes the plates from her hands and sets them on the table. I nod in her direction nervously.  

 "Excuse my sloppy eating."

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Colorful Christmas lights were always my favorite, I used to put them around my room just as November came around. My parents thought I was a little obsessed with the delight I got from Christmas lights. Every year I had begged my Dad to take me out to our local Walmart, so that I could buy new lights. I never understood why my Mother would always rather white Christmas lights on our tree, we would banter about it until Dad would step in and declare that we can put both on the 'damn tree.' You see, my Father never got joy out of Christmas spirit, he said that there's no point to it. But, nonetheless he would participate in putting up the tree and outside lights. 

Now, I realize, why exactly my Mom used to want the plain lights on the tree. They seem calm, and collected. As if their bright demeanor will never burn out. I observe the strand of old fashioned Christmas lights that are in my hands. I went into my basement just about eight minutes ago and collected my old Christmas lights. But after plugging in the colorful, cheerful lights. I discovered they no longer filled the heart of my eye with spirit, but with dread. And remembrance. So I had hauled myself back down to the basement and replaced the dusty green bin of my Christmas lights with the smaller, light blue, bin. When I opened it the scent of Christmas, pine needles, wrapping paper, and candy canes, washed over my senses. 

I brought them up to my room and plugged them into the outlet. I sat there with the bright lights filling in my empty eyes. I remember her smile. The wrinkles on the sides of her lips from years of smiling. Her large dimples that I was jealous of. And mostly, the love in her eyes, she was always positive. Even when her heart was broken. She smiled. 

With that in mind, I got up off my floor and decorated my bedroom with my Mothers old favorite lights, angels, fake Holly leaves. Everything. After an hour of trying to make everything look perfect, I sat down on my bed and looked around at my progress. My mother would be proud.

"Now you're here with me in the one room I can feel calm."

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I'm sorry for the lousy chapter and lack of updates. I don't really have a legit excuse, just that I need to be in the mood to write. 

Is anyone else already fretting over next school year?! If so, let me know! What grade are you ?