Model in Love (A Justin Timberlake Fan Fiction) EDITING

Chapter 11

Wow, three months later, I still felt overjoyed. He came back! He still knew me!

Even though we hadn't seen each other in a long time, he still cared for me. After that day I found his gift, I responded to his letter. I told him EVERYTHING. I had to; he was my closest friend.

I told him about Dylan, our relationship, my first kiss with him, how we met, etc. And especially my new baby sister, Riley. From the time I mailed him my letter, he quickly replied back. We've been talking this way for months now; three so far.

"Cutie, what are you doing? You've been writing that stupid letter for hours now. Isn't it time you set that down and spent some time with me?" Dylan questioned, making me stop writing. He and I had been in our secret garden for hours, sitting on our favorite tree as I wrote my letter.

I looked toward him, annoyed, as I told him, "Babe, why don't you wait for a few more minutes? I swear I'll hang out with you as soon as I finish this."

"I can't, baby. I'm an impatient guy. I can't wait any more or I'll burst my head open." He leaned his head backwards on the tree trunk while he took a deep breath.

"Stop being a brat and wait!" I began to get fed up with his impatience.

Ever since our first fight, we began getting into arguments. The arguments were little things we argued about. For example, one time I lost his lucky grey bracelet by accident. He flipped out once I confronted him. He started to give me the silent treatment, but a week later, he bought a new bracelet, begging on his knees for forgiveness.

I kinda thought that Dylan might have some anger issues. On the bright side, he didn't get jealous when I was around other boys or get annoyed.

I wrote my last sentence before rising from my spot. "I'm ready, let's go have some fun!" I sarcastically said.

"So, can I ask? Who were you writing that letter to?" he asked, causing me to feel uncomfortable.

I rose from the ground, snatching my letter and pen, ignoring his inquiries. "What are ya doin', Rachel?"

"Leaving, you idiot!" I said, strident.

"Rach?" he whined. "Rachel! I demand you to stop!" He bawled his life out.

I paid no attention to him, but kept walking home. The final thing I heard him say was, "Fine! I guess I'll find someone better to hang out with than a pretty girl like YOU!"

After listening to those cruel, nasty words come out of his mouth, my heart was crushed, destroyed. I sauntered home without a tear drop, but with a broken heart.

I knew then the next time I saw him again, he'd be sorry. It hadn't been a year since we'd been dating, and he'd already caused me to break up with him. Maybe I just wasn't ready to be in a relationship. I was twelve years old for heaven's sake. I was dating a fourteen year old boy who's so stubborn.

I wished he could go back to being that boy I first met at Heather's baby shower. Or maybe we were just too young to be in a relationship. We should probably be friends now, then later start a relationship again. When we were more mature enough to handle one. It's for the best.

As I took a seat on my bedroom floor, I grabbed my electric guitar case, before I dropped my letter and pen on my bed. My dad gave me his guitar that he had had since he was fifteen. His father bought Daddy a guitar for his fifteenth birthday; this guitar was one of his most memorable guitars he had ever been given.

Later, he passed on his guitar to me. He gave it to me as a present for Christmas with a lesson book, with tons of lessons it covered, along with a few songs to cover. I felt emotional once he gave it to me.