The Delinquent (A Sidemen Fanfiction)

Chapter 18

*Mackenzie's POV*

     My eyes fluttered open and my head throbbed. I felt likes I was going to be sick. And I realized something immediately. This wasn't my room. Panicking, I sat up quickly and looked around. A wave of relief washed over me. It was Simon's room. Simon was at his desk and he turned around, looking at me with a small smirk. "Good morning." He said. "What am I doing in here?" I asked, still looking around. He chuckled lightly. "You insisted that you sleep in here." He said. "What the hell happened last night?" I groaned, grabbing my forehead. "You went to a party. You came back, drunk and stoned, and told me you and Matthew hooked up and then you insisted you would sleep in here." He said casually. "What?" I asked, looking at him again. He shrugged. "Me and Matthew hooked up?" I asked, panicking again. "That's what you said." He shrugged. "Where's my phone?" I asked, looking around. "Here." He said, grabbing it off of his desk and tossing it to me. I had fifteen texts and five missed calls from Matthew. All this morning. I read his texts.

Matt-I thought last night meant something to you...

Matt-I'm sorry.

Matt-Please call me.

Matt-Are you seriously doing this to me? We had sex and you just never call or text back?

Matt-Fuck you.

     I sighed as I put my phone back down. "Everything okay?" Simon asked. "Sure." I said, staring at the ceiling. "What is it?" He asked. I threw him my phone. I watched as he moved his lips ever so slightly while he read. "He's worse than a girl after a one night stand that she thought meant something." He said, shaking his head. "Do you not care?" I asked, easing an eyebrow at him.

*Simon's POV*

"Do you not care?" She asked. There was that word that had been fluttering through my mind all morning. Care. The truth was, I cared more than I should. I cared about her more than I should. And it bothered me that she had sex with this guy. I don't know why, but it did. "I care." I said simply. "You don't seem like it." She said. I sighed. I didn't want to care. I didn't have to care. But I did. She didn't want me to care. She didn't want anyone to care, so when she fucked up, she wouldn't hurt whoever cared about her. Although when Lane died, she said something that I guess she doesn't say often. She told us that she loved us. "And why do you think that?" I asked. She shrugged. "I mean, you haven't yelled at me, so." She said, smiling slightly. I sighed. "That's not my job. I'm not your parent." I said. I saw her expression change when I said 'parent'. With the conversation she had with her mum yesterday, I guess she didn't feel like she had a parent. "Why'd your dad leave?" I blurted out, watching her face as she looked down at her lap. She was sitting up, her legs crossed and her hands in her lap. "He found someone that was better than me and Mom I guess." She shrugged. Her voice sounded sad, and I wanted to hold her again and let her know that everything would be okay. "You didn't start acting out until your dad left." I said, although I was sure she already knew this. She nodded slowly, a strand of hair falling off of her shoulder and shielding her face from my eyes. "So, are you going to call Matthew back?" I asked. She looked up at me finally, smiling. "Surely you've had a one night stand before." She said. I thought about how many I've had, how many have caused my relationships to end. It was just the alcohol, always was. I nodded. "Then you know how these work." She laughed lightly, making me smile. We held eye contact for a while before she looked away. "I should probably go shower. I smell like a club." She laughed. I kept my eyes on her until she was out of sight into the hall. I sighed, putting my face in my hands. I've tried to keep reminding myself that I cannot fall for her, and that she's only sixteen, but I don't know how much longer I can just deny my feelings for her. I can't keep lying to myself. The worst lies we can tell are the lies we tell ourselves. We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we're afraid. We fear we won't find love, and when we do we fear we will lose it. We fear that if we do not have love, we will be unhappy. But I don't even know if I'm in love with her. And if I am....she's still sixteen. I sighed in frustration again. What am I going to do?