Living with the Karters

Chapter 2 : Opening Up

When I get up, my eyelids are heavy. As I sit up, I look around, trying to find out whos room I'm in. No douche bag girl posters on the walls... Not Cameron.. and probably not Tristian.

Nothing that signifies a girls room. Not Sammie or Mercys...

No books or paint, so probably not Derek or Adrian.

Not Jake, he doesn't live here.

So, what? That leaves Jeremiah and Mitch...

I groan and swing my legs out of bed. I look at the clock; 3:00 PM. Well, looks like they found me, but let me sleep...LATE... Thank God...

I stand up and start walking when I kick something.

"OWW!" I hear and look down and see Jeremiah laying on the floor in the same outfit he was in last night. I kneel down on the floor.

"Oh, My God. I'm so sorry..," I say, holding out my hand to help him up. He takes my hand and pulls himself up and sits on his bed, holding his side. I sit down next to him. "Are you okay?" I ask him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The real question is, are you okay?" he says gently and quietly.

"No," I say without hesitation, tears stinging at my eyes again, "I'm sorry," I say wiping a tear from my eye. "So, what happened after I ran out of the room yesterday?"

"Well, at first, everyone just looked at each other for like 5 minutes, and then Tristan was like, 'You guys are hopeless' and rolled his eyes and went looking for you, then my Mom and Dad, Adrian, Sammie, Mitch, Derek, Jake, and I went after him. I don't know if Cameron even went looking for you," he says the last part quicker and quieter that all the other parts.

"Go on," i manage to choke out.

"Well, we all split up, so it was easier, and I found you in my room after 10 minutes, but you were sleeping, so I told everyone and let you sleep. And I didn't know if you'd mind me sleeping with you, so i just slept on the floor," he shrugs.

"Next time, feel free to wake me up and tell me to scootch over," i say, my face turning a little red.

"Okay," he says with a slight smile. "So, about that no..."

"Huh?"

"When I asked if you were okay," he says cautiously.

"Oh," is all I can manage to squeak out before I start to cry, probably making Jeremiah feel awkward.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, "I can't say that I know what you're going through, because I don't... I'm not going to pity you, by the way. I know that that's the last thing you need right now... God, I suck at this...."

"No, no you don't. You're on a roll," I say with a weak smile and more tears. He smiles a little and laughs a little and I laugh too and we laugh until we're on our backs, holding our sides. When we finally get up, I smile at him. "Thank you."

"No, Jazzy, thank you," he says quietly.

"For what?"

"Giving me someone not a drama-queen or a guy or my mom, to talk to in this house," he tells me in a whisper that makes my heart flip. "Oh, and I have to tell you something."

"What's up?"

"Well I brought in your bags and your purse to your room and then your phone was going off, someone named Chad, I think, called your phone, and I answered it, to say that you were sleeping, and he kinda freaked out on me and started yelling, so I don't know who he is, or if I messed something up, but, yeah..." he says. I close my eyes, trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, did I say something?"