Dear Diary,
I once again got out of Ty's grip to write to you.
UGH!
For once I can't put his feeling to words... maybe it's because having someone here for me is a foreign feeling.
I really thought Ty would have given up on me by now but he hasn't. In fact we keep building a stronger bond everyday and everyday I feel more and more comfortable with him. Everyday I want to talk to him even more.
~Aria
I climbed back into bed and looked over at the clock.
It was only 2:00am this time.
I sighed in content; I still have four more hours of sleep.
The next couple days went by about the same. Everyday Ty and I went to school together and then came home and he had these things for me to do. Today is Friday! It's weird because my dad hasn't even tried to get a hold of me since I left.
"Come on please," Ty pouted.
'I can't think of one,' I admitted.
He asked me to draw my favorite memory.
I then drew language class and him and I sitting in it.
'Meeting you,' I wrote under the picture.
He looked confused for a second and then really happy.
"Aw I'm flattered," he said in honesty but he was mocking me at the same time.
I rolled my eyes.
"What's your favorite number?" he asked.
'13,' I wrote.
"Isn't that an unlucky number?" he teased.
I stuck my tongue out at him.
"Favorite season?" he asked.
'Spring,' I wrote.
"When's your birthday?" he asked.
I thought about it for a moment oh yeah I remember.
'May 8th," I wrote.
"Where is your diary?" he asked.
'What?' I asked.
"I want to read it," he laughed.
'NO,' I wrote.
"Where is it?" he repeated.
'At my dad's," I lied.
He didn't even catch the lie, he just sat there have stunned half about to pee himself over happiness.
'Care to share why you look like you're about to pee yourself?' I wrote.
He chuckled.
"You didn't call it home," he explained.
I shrugged that place wasn't home.
"But seriously where is it?" he asked while jumping off the bed.
'TY STOP,' I wrote while standing in front of him and holding it up.
"Aw did you write about me?" he teased.
I blushed and avoided eye contact.
"YOU DID," he laughed.
I punched him.
"Come on Aria I'm just teasing," he mocked.
I pointed at the bed.
"No because I really want to read it now," he challenged.
'Too bad it's at my dad's,' I wrote.
"Too bad it's not," he snorted.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Diary, I Have a Mate
WerewolfArrabella Middletin hasn't spoken a word since she was eight years old. The only thing she shares her thoughts with is her diary. She lives with her abusive father and is starting a new school. With a dad that freaks out when she makes a friend or e...
