For The Love Of A Bad Boy

XXX

I sobbed miserably, even when I tried to stop so I could go inside the house. Undoubtedly, Noah was there.

I couldn't quit crying long enough to sneak past him, so I had no choice but to go inside.

My footsteps weren't as noiseless as I predicted, and Noah whipped around from his seat on the couch. He muted the tv.

"Hey." He said.

"Hi."

"You alright?"

"Yeah...God, I'm okay," I hung my head so he wouldn't see my face, "actually, uh, I am a little upset, but I can handle it."

Noah stood up from the couch and walked over to me cautiously.

"Were you crying, Sam?" He asked, examining my face.

"Me? No...not really."

"I don't care if you lie to me, but you're obviously unhappy. I can't let you stay this way."

"Can you respect that I can't tell you what's wrong? You won't run to Jeremy again?

"I can't promise you I won't talk to your brother..."

"Please?" I cried, more tears falling down my cheeks, "Noah, I'm...so pissed, I just want to talk to somebody.
Will you do that?"

He nodded, "Of course. You have to calm down, though. This probably isn't good for your asthma."

"Did Jeremy give the speech?" I laughed dryly.

"It really is sweet how much he cares for your wellbeing and it was smart of him to tell me everything."

"And?"

"I couldn't ask him to shut the hell up, could I?"

I gave him a smile, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"You made me forget for a second."

The front door slammed, which meant Jeremy was home.

Jeremy seeing me cry was out of the question, so I went to my room.

Noah was so excited to see Jeremy, I wanted to remember a time when I felt purely happy with no interruptions or fears.

Anthony.

Even then, Jeremy didn't want us together.

Noah and Jeremy had that.

Pure happiness and love.
Once I was in my room, I locked the door.

I had to wait for Mike to call. There was no way I wasn't answering.

I was such an idiot for thinking Mike had changed. How could I believe he loved me the way I wanted him to? He only loved me because I was easy to fool, it wasn't difficult to take advantage of me.

That's what Mike fell in love with. Not me.

On top of that, my left wrist, the one I could barely move, was completely purple from the bruises.

It looked worse in the mirror.

I couldn't fight Mike back and I wouldn't try to break up with him again. He'd get more dangerous than he already was.

There was a knock on my door, "Sam, why is your door locked?" Jeremy asked from the other side.

"Don't I have the right to do that?"

"No."

"Is there something you wanted?"

"Noah and I are going out. Call me if there's an emergency."

"Okay."

I heard him walk away from the door and down the stairs.

The garage door opened and they were gone.

The only solution I had was to lay down and clear my head.

~

-Anthony's Point Of View-

"Anya, get up. You're coming with me." I said as I threw open her bedroom door.

She barely looked up from the millions of textbooks she had scattered on her bed.

"Where?" She asked.

"I'm going to get my nose pierced. I got Dad's credit card."

"You know how much I love wasting Dad's money, but I have tons of material I should go over again. And I hate piercings, Anthony. I don't want to see you punch a hole in your nose."

"It's fun, you should get one."

She adjusted her glasses on her face and flipped a page in her book.

"It's disgusting, Anthony. How can you live your life with holes in your head? It's enough that you had your eyebrow pierced. Besides, Ma will go insane when she sees your new one. Dad will be even worse."

"Exactly. Dad went crazy when he saw your tattoos. Wasn't that worth it?"

"Sort of....but I can't. I'm afraid."

"Please? We can get, like, matching piercings."

"I can't go back to school like that."

"Sure you can. If you're kicked out of school, then Harvard doesn't deserve your brilliance."

"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try...but if I decide to chicken out, I don't want to hear about it."

"Deal."

She left her books on the bed and tossed her glasses on her dresser.

"But just so you know, it does hurt." I said.

"Rate it on a scale of one to ten."

"Six."

"I'll cry and get over it someday."

"Want to get another tattoo?"

"Sure. Mine will say peace, yours will say love."

"Read my mind."