Chapter 8: Round One

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"Fucking asshole," I hung up on Carlisle and placed my phone into my pocket.

It was freezing out here. The temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees since this afternoon. Of course I am outside only wearing my undershirt and a pair of sweats. But, all of that doesn't matter. I am so pissed at him and need a few minutes before I go back in to Angelina. The last thing I wanted to do was take my anger out on her.

Leave the trash at the dump and go home.

My fist landed on Angelina's mailbox, denting the small black box. He's so fucking wrong. Carlisle wouldn't know class or beauty if it landed in his soup during Sunday brunch. He's just hating because last week Angelina chose me.

"Elijah?" Angelina poked her head out again. "Everything okay?"

Instead of frowning, I found myself smiling at her. She looked adorable, wearing her pajamas, and a smile-something that has been waning all day. I nodded.

"Are you going to come back in?" Now she was frowning.

I nodded my head yes, quickly-for some reason, still wanting to keep her happy.

"Okay," she smiled again and let the screen door slam closed, after she went back in.

God.

We met almost two weeks ago.

And it feels like an eternity has gone by.

Christ.

No, it's just because of today. Today has been fucked and I can't wait for us to just go to bed.

I palmed my face, thinking about all the shit I said to Carlisle, all the shit he said to me, and thinking about what the fuck I was going to do now.

Well, I'd love to enlighten Angelina about the new cure for her stomach cramps. I don't know what that has to do with her pussy, but yeah. I think I need to forget about today. However, if Angelina hates me now, and that's why she's acting up, I wish she'd just say so.

Huh? I didn't even want to think about that, at all. I rubbed my chest at the thought, feeling a tightness, a small ache.

I was exhausted, and I didn't do a goddamn thing today, besides come up here, and hang out with Angelina. Why was it so exhausting? Because Angelina has gone from being the sweetheart that she is, to the raging heinous bitch that I can't stand. All day long, back and forth, back and forth. There was some whining in between there too.

All of this was so damn confusing and I was ready to pull my hair out. She gets nasty, and then I get nasty. She cries and I roll my eyes.

Because I'm an insensitive prick.

And now she's awake again.

Christ.

This is our fourth day, physically together, and she's already treating me like shit?

I scratched at my bicep and turned to go back in, only to turn back around. I heard the leaves rustling and saw someone coming up the porch steps.

I took a few steps forward, and my eyes landed on some dude. He was fucking huge, some juice-head gorilla like motherfucker.

"Sup?" I jerked my chin to him.

We made eye contact and then he looked around himself. "Who are you?"

I chuckled. "Nah, motherfucker. Who are you?" I asked.

He laughed again, while he scratched at his chin. "Who am I? Well, you're standing in front of my sister's house-" He took another step, as I too stepped forward. "So, if there's a hair out of place on her head, I'm the motherfucker that's going to kill you."

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