I opened my eyes, trying to sit up but Jamie was kind of laying on top of me. He was sound asleep, snoring as his hands grabbed at things that weren't there. His nose scrunched up, and he shifted uncomfortably. His upper half was pressed against my chest, which usually wouldn't bother girls at this age, but I had a growth condition which I already told you about. So technically I have breasts...
His lower half was pressed against my lower half, his legs were on top of mine. I wasn't entirely comfortable with this, but he looked so peaceful... He rolled over, rolling off the bed and hitting the floor with a loud thump. I couldn't help but laugh, as he raised his head looking at me sleepily and asked "What happened?"
"You fell..." I chuckled softly, trying not to hint that it was funny. He stood up, his chocolate brown hair a mess. He blinked a couple times and rubbed his eyes. I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest, watching him walk over to the window and look outside. "It's really late..." He stated looking at me, as I shrugged.
"Stay the night. My mom won't mind." I said, getting off my bed and walking over to him. He nodded, and went over to my bookshelf. He looked over each one of my books, which were mostly chapter books. And found one picture book, pulling it out. "Only one picture book?" He looked at me with a face of surprise.
"That's the one you gave me. I got rid of the others, when I turned eight." I leaned against the wall, focusing my eyes on the floor. I have no need for fairy-tales, stupid unrealistic stories that just give children the wrong ideas. But Jamie was always into them, talking about things I could never talk about seriously like he does. "I thought..." He started to speak, but I cut him off.
"I know... I've changed Jamie..." I replied with a serious tone.
He didn't say anything after that, I think I hurt his feelings... He just stared at the floor in silence. I sighed. "Why don't we go see if my mother is gonna make dinner?" I put my hand on his shoulder, and he looked up at me and nodded. We walked downstairs, my mother was cooking. It smelled good. She turned to look at us. "Hey, I thought you'd never wake up." She smiled. My mother is twenty six, she had me when she was sixteen. See, her boyfriend abandoned her when he learned she was pregnant. So I don't have a dad...
"Hi mom." I smile, walking to the table in the dining room and sitting down. "Hey, Miss Baker.." Jamie sits next to me.
"Honey, aren't you going to go home?" My mother questioned, I shook my head ready to have an argument with her. "I thought Jamie could stay the night.." I started, kicking my feet back and forth under the table. "Oh, okay. I call his mother after I finish dinner.." She turned around back to the stove. That's strange, usually she argues with me till she threatens with some kind of consequence.
After we had dinner, and my mother called Jamie's mom we went back upstairs to my room. I grabbed the book that was on my bedside table and crawled up onto my bed. I stared at the book, which was huge. Had over thirty stories in it. I looked up at Jamie who was just smiling at me, I set the book down and patted the bed next to me. He climbed on the bed. "Mom has been talking about moving... I don't know if its official, but she wants to move..." I looked at the floor. I felt his arms around me, his face pressed against my shoulder. "But... You can't move. If you end up moving..." He started to cry, and I couldn't make out the words as he sobbed into my shoulder. Does he really care this much?
"It will be alright... If I do move, I'll still visit. And I would call you a lot!" I tried to make him feel better, but it didn't seem to work. He pulled his face from my shoulder and stared at me. "W-What if you move to another state or something? What if I would never see you again?" He wiped a few tears from his face, I felt myself starting to cry. "I'll still call you." I put my hand on his shoulder, starting to feel really bad. "That's not good enough!" He pressed his lips against mine, and I felt like I was going to faint for a moment. He pulled away, and we just stared at each other.
