Restart [BOOK ONE-COMPLETED]

Chapter Eleven// Dirt Turns into Mud

//AERON//

"Are you okay?" I ask Alex.

"Yeah," he says not looking at me, still focused on his video games.

The lights are off making it bitch black but only able to see a kid sitting in front of his bed in what he calls his gaming chair. It's a black beanbag. With a microphone earbud thingy to talk to other player on Xbox live. With the light shining to his face.

I stand at his door and tap my fingers on the side.

"Can you not?" He looks at me in the eye.

Someone's PMSing.

"Sorry," I mutter.

"What do you want?" He asks.

"Well it's about 2 am, I don't know, just keep it down a little," I say.

"Go away," he says.

I walk over and sit on his lap blocking him from the game.

"I said go away," he repeated and pushed my head to the side."Dammit Aeron! You killed me," he chucks his controller to the ground.

"You could wake someone!" I put my finger to his lips.

"And?" What is up with this attitude?"What is my mom gonna do? Ground me?"

"Being grounded sucks," I complain.

"Hey it was your decision, I tried to stop you but now whose complaining," he spits.

He did not!

What's wrong with him? It's been two weeks. Gosh this fucking sucks and I'm so freaking annoyed with him. He can't bother to say or do one nice thing for me. Like I ruined everything.

"I'm sorry," I get up from his lap.

"Yeah please just go, we have to wake up early, we're going to this dinner at my moms friends," he explains.

"Well maybe if you kept it down I would be able to sleep," I mutter.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing," I stand by his door.

"Leave," he shouts.

"Alex stop yelling," I whisper shout.

"My sisters are at their friends, my moms out," he explains.

"Oh so then I can talk like this?" I raise my voice.

"Aeron shut up! You're making a fool of yourself," Alex rolls his eyes and goes back to his game.

I would so go off on him right now but I yawned.

"Whatever," I say.

"Don't whatever me," he says.

Then stop being such a fucking dick to me. Damn.

Like chill.

"Are you leaving yet?" He asks.

"Fuck you," I walk to my room.

I leave the door open and find my dark room. I trip to my dead.

I rolled my ankle over something that was in the floor.

Dammit, it hurts.

I perform in three weeks. I can't have this. What if I can't dance? Oh my gosh I have been working so hard! I can't! I have to!

Hopefully it's not that bad, I swear if it is I'm gonna cry and punch a fucking wall.

I sit on the floor holding my knee to my chest and massaging my ankle.