Hey Punk, Keep This a Secret

Chapter One: Danny Stewart

 And so began my expedition for the evidence to save Chance. When I made it home that night, I began taking notes of the things I'd already observed regarding him and his relationship with Hart:

Suspicious conversation between the two. Expected if they have a sexual relationship with one another, which is absolutely the case if Hart is grooming Chance. Examples of the strange conversations include Chance asking who he is, for Hart to respond with "mine." Both engage in these conversation exchanges for some sort of short romantic/sexual satisfaction.

If my parents knew what I was doing, they would either stop calling me selfish or they would add "careless" to their list of insults. The only reason that I'm not totally sure it's the second one is because I had been manipulated by society into believing that parents are ever capable of change. They're not, and if you ever need proof, mine aren't going anywhere.

I closed the notebook at an instant and hid it in the bottom of my almost unopenable desk drawer. If my parents were to barge through this door like gorillas, all they would see is me sitting on my bed with my phone, getting ready to turn on music to drown them out. A teen girl can only take so much of listening to her own parents talk shit about her. It's one thing when some gossip girls think you're dorky, or when those jock assholes think you're weak and bad at sports. It's a whole different thing when your parents are the ones that think you aren't all they hoped you to be.

So I guess I drowned them out all evening until dinner, but I lost track of time somewhere in the middle until then. I had lost myself in daydreams.

To sum it up, I'll say this: I was on this beach, and there was a giant ship out in the ocean. Everybody was running, because the size of it could have easily crushed everybody there. Some people were already dead (even though the ship was still miles out), and my morbid mind had shown me the guts in detail. I didn't care, though. I didn't run. I just sat on the sand, waiting for the ship to turn me into meatloaf. It was eerily peaceful, until somebody grabbed my arm. Somebody grabbed my arm and started telling me to run. I turned around and noticed it was CJ. The only person that really cared all that much to save me. It was too realistic. At the crash of the ship on the sand, I had woken up.

In fact, the sound of the crash was actually just my father banging on my door. It wasn't even locked, so it was pretty annoying that he was losing his mind as if it was.

"It's dinner time, brat." He said through the door. So I rolled my eyes and got up.

I don't even want to talk about what happened during dinner, so I won't. My parents don't deserve the attention for it regardless. They're foul scum, both of them.

When I came back into my room, I noticed that my phone had lit up. Chance was texting me.

"I'm bored, whatcha doing?" He had said. Such a simple conversation starter, but it still made me crack a smile. I guess it isn't really all that hard for someone like Chance Andrews to make someone like Danny Stewart smile. Maybe it's because I'm utterly in love with him. That would explain it.

"Trying to drown out my parents, hbu?" I responded. I wasn't smiling anymore by the time I had started typing. Reminding myself what I was doing had somehow made it harder to do.

"Figures. They seem real fucking annoying." He said with a small amount of sympathy, followed by, "I'm just laying around and scrolling on my phone. There's nothing interesting on the internet today."

"There's always something interesting on the internet. You just haven't found it." I said.

"Oh, I think I've found the most interesting thing there is <3" I knew he was referring to Hart. Who else would he be talking about? I don't know of anyone else he found on the internet that's worth putting a heart at the end of his text for. My mind resorted to an anxious thought: Maybe Chance is really a dirty cheater. No, I doubt that.