Locket |kellic; boyxboy|

Questions

(Kellin's POV)

Things were getting a little better. I wasn't even tuning Alan out as he told jokes around the lunch table. He slings a pale, freckled arm around my shoulder and I smile over at him a little. "So, Quinn, how's the neighbor crisis coming?" The ginger asked. My stomach dropped, not knowing how Alan was aware of my situation.

"H-How--"

"Jaime said you're always writing about your neighbor," he begins. Then all eyes are on me and I feel my face heat up. Even more so when he leans in and says, "Is she hot?" My stomach flips inside me and I feel my throat tighten. She, she, she. Alan said she. "U-Um, well, uh," I tilt my head as I speak, feeling like my head would explode. Why hadn't I told them sooner?

They all look at me to finish but I can't find it in me to do so. I look to Jaime for help and he opens his mouth to talk. "How about we judge that," he says. I widen my eyes and look at him again, as if he had two heads this time. Was he crazy? He was supposed to help me not make it worse!

I guess if I would've told them, I wouldn't be in this situation. Jaime continues, "Let's all chill at my house this weekend for a while, and Kellin here has to convince his neighbor to come with him." He grins and I frown back at him. Maybe he thinks it's Jenna.

They all agree just as the bell rings and Alan slaps a hand on my back.

Well, I think solemnly as I stand from the somewhat crowded table. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

_____

(Vic's POV)

Just say something.

Sit down on the couch, get his attention, and ask.

Finally, I stand from my bed with my stomach whirring. Dad was home and I saw this as my chance to get some answers. It felt like Mike and I were living with a total stranger and I had had enough. As the stairs creak under my weight, my throat tightens up and I let out a nervous breath. How would he react?

Would he be angry? Well, he didn't really have the right to be. How did he think we felt?

Pushing the thoughts away, I lower myself onto the plush couch, eyeing his chair. The newspaper was over his face like I expected it to be. When I let out a long breath, the paper lowers a little so I can just see his dark brown eyes that resembled mine too much. "Oh, good afternoon, son. Where's Mike?"

"I don't really know. In his room. I have," I breath deeply again. "I have some questions though."

He nods.

"Um, so...okay. I hate this thing we've got going on. It's like living with a stranger, you know? And I don't want to sound rude and angry but I sort of am angry at you. You leave really early and leave us to do everything until way past midnight and I know you have to work, and I'm glad you can occupy yourself through this, but at the same time, you're supposed to at least interact with u-us a little, don't you think?"

A silence lingers around us as my face gets hot and my breathing is through the roof, chest heaving nervously up and down. His eyes lower from mine and down to the paper again, and he doesn't reply to me. This nade me even angrier. The amount of time it took me to prepare myself, how hard it was to even consider coming down here, and he just doesn't answer?

No, I think to myself. Mike and I deserve more than this.

I stand and grasp the newspaper from him, ripping it from his hands, and throw it on the ground. I'm panting in anger, jaw clenched and face red. "Stop hiding behind that stupid fucking newspaper! Answer me!"