Talks and Texts [ #1]

7 | cold dinners and no new messages

7 | cold dinners and no new messages

Jacob closed the front door behind him and pulled back his hood to reveal his dark crop of hair. He was about to go upstairs when his uncle emerged from the kitchen looking absolutely livid.

"It's two in the night, Jacob," he said in a poorly controlled voice.

"Technically, it's two in the morning," Jacob said, nonchalantly.

His uncle took a deep breath, "You shouldn't be out so late and when you don't want dinner at home, you should at least let me know."

"You're hardly ever at home so I don't think you have any right to complain, William."

William straightened up against the icy tone, "I am not home most days because I have a job without which you would starve."

"No need to remind me. I am ever so grateful for your kind charity, uncle," he bit back. "I have no illusions about my place here. Maybe you are forgetting that I'm used to-to being thrown from one relative to another every couple of years."

"That's not—"

"I'm sleepy, let's have this talk later okay?" More like never, he thought. He stomped upstairs as William turned back to the dinner table where the food lay untouched.

The older man muttered a few swears before chucking the food into the dustbin.

Meanwhile, Jacob lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. Just a few more months. Just this last year and then I'll be eighteen, free from these fucking so-called relatives who don't give a damn about me. I just have to suffer this year through. Unless, he closed his eyes, William decides to send me to some other aunt or uncle before senior year is complete.

That wouldn't be new. Aunt Cassie had sent him back to Aunt Fiona within two months when he had been thirteen because he had been too difficult to manage, such a troublemaker. It had been a tough period of time, hearing the adults arguing about who should take the responsibility of the child. He sat up, feeling fidgety, and looked at his phone.

No new messages.

Well, that wasn't a surprise. He wasn't exactly popular but in a way, he liked being practically invisible. Out of sheer boredom, he scrolled to Jessica's messages.

Pain in the Ass: *Picture message*

  ^ How about Mona Lisa?

Loner Lawson: Anything works for me.

Pain in the Ass: Wouldn't it be too tried?

   Of course, it would be easy in terms of research

   But...

   Let me research some more

   Maybe I can find a better option

   What do you think?

Loner Lawson: Do you think I care?

   I'm not a stuck-up overachiever like you

Pain in the Ass: I hate you.

Loner Lawson: Same to you :P

Pain in the Ass: Did you just stick out your tongue at me?

He stared at the messages for long before doing something he was sure he would regret in the morning. He typed, are you awake?

And before he could think too much, he pressed send.

***

*waits for Wattpad to mess up the format again* but do vote and comment if you enjoyed this? Much love x