The Girl Who Lives and The Boy Who Gives.

Chapter Four

Scott's P.O.V

"Are we back to you sitting on the couch and doing nothing again?"

I look up and see Falon standing above me with his eyebrows furrowed. I ignore him and use the remote to change the channel to something else. Why is there literally nothing at all on to watch right now? I'm about to change the channel again when Falon steps in front of the television.

"Move," I say glaring up at him.

"Get up," he says crossing his arms over his chest.

"For what?"

"We're going out."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Yes you are," he says bending over and grabbing my arm before harshly pulling me up onto my feet. "You can't live here forever just cause Abby is out doing something with her life. I mean it's getting real pathetic man, what're you going to do if you guys end up breaking up?"

"Breaking up?" I tilt my head at him confused. "Why the hell would be break up?"

"Well she has been hanging around with garbage boy a lot," he shrugs and my breath immediately hitches. So Liam isn't the only one who thinks he's after her? "Dude I'm just kidding. Stop getting so paranoid, everyone knows you and Abby are going to be together forever and have a bunch of kids."

"Kids?" My eyes widen at the thought. Me being a Father would only be bad news, I can barely take care of myself when Abby's gone, what would I do with a kid?

"Forget it," he says shaking his head at me. "Anyways m'lady is gone today too. So you and I can go out and maybe go to a club or something-"

"For what?" I raise my eyebrows at him. "The only reason we used to go to clubs and parties was to hook up. There's nothing for us there anymore man."

"I never thought about it like that," he raises his hand to his chin and brushes his non existent beard. "I mean I guess we could just go out to Walmart or something...we'll figure that part out later. But I can't stand being in this house knowing that you're down here on the couch pouting like a five year old. I could literally feel your jealousy vibes from my room."

"I'm not jealous," I groan, rolling my eyes at him.

"Sure."

"I'm not."

"I know."

"Seriously I'm not."

"Seriously I believe you."

"No you don't."