Author's Note: To understand this story, you must've read "Notice Me" before reading this. I don't own anything except for the character of Skye Alexander and her family and friends. I also am the creater of Randy Orton's baby sister, Anabelle. The wrestlers own themselves and Vince McMahon owns the WWE. I don't own any music mentioned in this either. The artists own it and yadi-yada. The cat named Snicklefritz is from 'Big Comfy Couch'. Nickelodeon owns Spongebob! And I don't own anything so I won't make this long. I just need to say that I'm doing this for fun! Yeah, yeah. You've probably heard that speech a million times so, I'll shut up now and proceed with the story. *This chapter will be in Randy Orton's POV...*
Why doesn't she trust me? I told her, time and time again that I didn't want anything to do with Stacy Keibler. Skye was the girl for me. She IS the girl for me. Yet, she doesn't trust me. I thought she loved me. I loved her. I trusted her. And she doesn't trust me. I wouldn't even touch Stacy Keibler with a ten foot pole, and she thinks I'd actually sleep with her? And then, there's Stacy. That little bitch continues to make up lies and is driving Skye away from me. What the hell is up with that?
I laid on my bed, staring up at the ceiling littered with posters of Football players. I had my hands behind my head and I was thinking away. It was Friday night and of course, I had nothing to do. Skye was ignoring my phone calls, and telling her family to tell me that she was in the shower. I've called about ten times an hour since the whole ordeal. How many showers can one girl take? She blocked me on messenger, and deleted every e-mail I sent, trying to talk to her. I guess I was out of her life, just like that. The whole mishap happened on Wednesday and she hasn't said a word to me ever since. Oh, except for the words 'Get out of my face, Asshole' once in awhile. I was alone, once again. I'm not very used to be alone. I used to be the popular guy. And now I don't even have my girlfriend. I've lost everything in such a short period of time. Sure, Skye and I have had each other for awhile, while the whole school put us out. But now I don't even have her in my life. My life is on a constant downward spiral and I just don't know what to do. I put all my trust in her, and she doesn't trust me. I mean, I wouldn't bug out if she was talking to another guy, like that Jeff Hardy. Sure, I used to be terribly jealous before we began going out, whenever I saw the two together. Then Jeff ditched her and we got together. On the first day of school, Jeff approached Skye and I didn't run up to them and freak out. But when she sees me with Stacy, she goes ballistic! It's so unfair! I kept on boiling inside and was ready to burst when there was a knock on my door. "Come in!" I shouted, not really wanting to get up. The door opened and in walked my mom, with my baby sister Anabelle in her arms.
Should I rewind? Anabelle is five months old, born in May. She is my parents' second child, and probably last. I was a handful when I was a kid and Anabelle is turning into one too. Thankfully, the baby was quiet when my mom walked into my room. "Randy?" She asked, softly.
"Yeah?" I replied, sitting up in my bed. I held my arms out and she handed Anabelle over to me. I cradled my baby sister in my arms as she took a seat at the foot of my bed.
"Is something wrong?" She questioned, cutting to the point. I pretended to be concentrated on holding Anabelle, doing everything I could at the moment to avoid the question. My parents probably noticed that Skye hasn't stopped by or called in the past few days, but they never said anything. I ran my finger softly across the delicate skin of Anabelle, ignoring my mother. "Randy? Please, I want to talk." She pleaded. I looked at her and saw her light blue eyes full of sadness. They reminded me of myself when I got sad. I inherited my mom's eyes and look like her a lot when I'm upset.
"There's nothing to talk about." I answered, rocking my baby sister back and forth in my arms. She cooed softly and began reaching out for me. I let her grab my finger as my mother sighed.
"Skye hasn't been coming by or calling for the past few days. Is there something wrong between you guys?"
"Nope." I lied, not looking at her. I concentrated on my baby sister, who was pulling my finger and laughing. I smiled and watched out of the corner of my eye as my mother rose from the bed and walked out of the room, shaking her head. After she closed the door, I sighed. Anabelle looked up at me as I stroked her brown hair.
"'Belle...hopefully you don't get into as much relationship trouble as I do when you grow up. Everything's just all messed up, you know? One day, you're all fine and then the next, everything falls apart. And there seems to be no glue that can fix it. Skye doesn't trust me and thinks I'm the father of Stacy's baby. I don't like Stacy. She's dumb. Do you know what dumb is?" I asked, as if she could hear me. The baby gave me a small burp in response. I laughed and could see her smiling.
"I guess you don't understand now, but when you get older, I don't want any guy breaking your heart. If they do, I'll break their neck. Got that? It's no fair. Stacy's planning to ruin my life and drive Skye away from me. I guess she's successful. Because Skye hates me now and I can't do anything about it. She won't talk to me. She won't look at me. Except for when she's giving me evil looks and saying bad things to me. I never got jealous when she was talking to Jeff, or anybody else for that matter. And she has to go all crazy when I'm trying to push Stacy Keibler away." I sighed, looking down at Anabelle. She had fallen asleep. I smiled and rose from my bed, with her in my arms. I walked out of my bedroom and over to hers in the next room. I laid her down in her wooden crib and covered her with a blanket. I watched for a bit as the blanket went up and down as she breathed.
Walking out of Anabelle's room, I was approached by my father. I guess my mom told him how I was avoiding talking to her and she convinced him to go talk to me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and led me down the stairs. We headed over to our rec room, where our pool table was. My father grabbed two sticks and a cube. He began setting the game up as I stood there, poolstick in hand. He was silent as he set up the game. I watched him, wondering what he was going to do. After he had put every ball in place, he lifted the triangle and placed it to the side. He turned to be and said, "You break."
I gave him a nod and shot. The triangle split and balls scattered everywhere. We were silent for a few minutes, just playing pool. As I was eyeing the striped five ball, he decided to state what was on his mind. "Spill it, Randy." With the sound of his voice, I lost concentration and completely missed my shot. I regained my composure and looked at him.
"There's nothing to spill." I told him. I took a shot, missing the corner pocket. My father took his turn, sinking two balls into the side pocket. He rested on his poolstick.
"Yes, there is. I can tell when my son's upset. Come on, I've been studying you for sixteen years and I've figured out a few things. You don't like to eat peas and broccoli, you love football, you hate when your mom rents those cheesy romance movies and you concentrate super hard on something to avoid talking about what's on your mind. I'm your father, I know all that stuff. It's your job to tell me so I can help you out." My dad explained, as I stared at the pool table. Then I looked at him.
"You can't help." I said, taking my shot. I finally got a ball into the corner pocket.
"Try me." He challenged.
"Dad, let it go. I don't want to talk about it." I said, watching him shoot.
"Randy, stop being so stubborn." He told me, placing his poolstick on the rack. He then walked out the door and went upstairs. I could hear his footsteps as I looked around the rec room. I saw the Playstation 2 and memories of the days of Summer where Skye and I would have races and other competitions flooded my mind. I placed my poolstick back onto the rack and ran up to my room.
Why doesn't she trust me? I told her, time and time again that I didn't want anything to do with Stacy Keibler. Skye was the girl for me. She IS the girl for me. Yet, she doesn't trust me. I thought she loved me. I loved her. I trusted her. And she doesn't trust me. I wouldn't even touch Stacy Keibler with a ten foot pole, and she thinks I'd actually sleep with her? And then, there's Stacy. That little bitch continues to make up lies and is driving Skye away from me. What the hell is up with that?
I laid on my bed, staring up at the ceiling littered with posters of Football players. I had my hands behind my head and I was thinking away. It was Friday night and of course, I had nothing to do. Skye was ignoring my phone calls, and telling her family to tell me that she was in the shower. I've called about ten times an hour since the whole ordeal. How many showers can one girl take? She blocked me on messenger, and deleted every e-mail I sent, trying to talk to her. I guess I was out of her life, just like that. The whole mishap happened on Wednesday and she hasn't said a word to me ever since. Oh, except for the words 'Get out of my face, Asshole' once in awhile. I was alone, once again. I'm not very used to be alone. I used to be the popular guy. And now I don't even have my girlfriend. I've lost everything in such a short period of time. Sure, Skye and I have had each other for awhile, while the whole school put us out. But now I don't even have her in my life. My life is on a constant downward spiral and I just don't know what to do. I put all my trust in her, and she doesn't trust me. I mean, I wouldn't bug out if she was talking to another guy, like that Jeff Hardy. Sure, I used to be terribly jealous before we began going out, whenever I saw the two together. Then Jeff ditched her and we got together. On the first day of school, Jeff approached Skye and I didn't run up to them and freak out. But when she sees me with Stacy, she goes ballistic! It's so unfair! I kept on boiling inside and was ready to burst when there was a knock on my door. "Come in!" I shouted, not really wanting to get up. The door opened and in walked my mom, with my baby sister Anabelle in her arms.
Should I rewind? Anabelle is five months old, born in May. She is my parents' second child, and probably last. I was a handful when I was a kid and Anabelle is turning into one too. Thankfully, the baby was quiet when my mom walked into my room. "Randy?" She asked, softly.
"Yeah?" I replied, sitting up in my bed. I held my arms out and she handed Anabelle over to me. I cradled my baby sister in my arms as she took a seat at the foot of my bed.
"Is something wrong?" She questioned, cutting to the point. I pretended to be concentrated on holding Anabelle, doing everything I could at the moment to avoid the question. My parents probably noticed that Skye hasn't stopped by or called in the past few days, but they never said anything. I ran my finger softly across the delicate skin of Anabelle, ignoring my mother. "Randy? Please, I want to talk." She pleaded. I looked at her and saw her light blue eyes full of sadness. They reminded me of myself when I got sad. I inherited my mom's eyes and look like her a lot when I'm upset.
"There's nothing to talk about." I answered, rocking my baby sister back and forth in my arms. She cooed softly and began reaching out for me. I let her grab my finger as my mother sighed.
"Skye hasn't been coming by or calling for the past few days. Is there something wrong between you guys?"
"Nope." I lied, not looking at her. I concentrated on my baby sister, who was pulling my finger and laughing. I smiled and watched out of the corner of my eye as my mother rose from the bed and walked out of the room, shaking her head. After she closed the door, I sighed. Anabelle looked up at me as I stroked her brown hair.
"'Belle...hopefully you don't get into as much relationship trouble as I do when you grow up. Everything's just all messed up, you know? One day, you're all fine and then the next, everything falls apart. And there seems to be no glue that can fix it. Skye doesn't trust me and thinks I'm the father of Stacy's baby. I don't like Stacy. She's dumb. Do you know what dumb is?" I asked, as if she could hear me. The baby gave me a small burp in response. I laughed and could see her smiling.
"I guess you don't understand now, but when you get older, I don't want any guy breaking your heart. If they do, I'll break their neck. Got that? It's no fair. Stacy's planning to ruin my life and drive Skye away from me. I guess she's successful. Because Skye hates me now and I can't do anything about it. She won't talk to me. She won't look at me. Except for when she's giving me evil looks and saying bad things to me. I never got jealous when she was talking to Jeff, or anybody else for that matter. And she has to go all crazy when I'm trying to push Stacy Keibler away." I sighed, looking down at Anabelle. She had fallen asleep. I smiled and rose from my bed, with her in my arms. I walked out of my bedroom and over to hers in the next room. I laid her down in her wooden crib and covered her with a blanket. I watched for a bit as the blanket went up and down as she breathed.
Walking out of Anabelle's room, I was approached by my father. I guess my mom told him how I was avoiding talking to her and she convinced him to go talk to me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and led me down the stairs. We headed over to our rec room, where our pool table was. My father grabbed two sticks and a cube. He began setting the game up as I stood there, poolstick in hand. He was silent as he set up the game. I watched him, wondering what he was going to do. After he had put every ball in place, he lifted the triangle and placed it to the side. He turned to be and said, "You break."
I gave him a nod and shot. The triangle split and balls scattered everywhere. We were silent for a few minutes, just playing pool. As I was eyeing the striped five ball, he decided to state what was on his mind. "Spill it, Randy." With the sound of his voice, I lost concentration and completely missed my shot. I regained my composure and looked at him.
"There's nothing to spill." I told him. I took a shot, missing the corner pocket. My father took his turn, sinking two balls into the side pocket. He rested on his poolstick.
"Yes, there is. I can tell when my son's upset. Come on, I've been studying you for sixteen years and I've figured out a few things. You don't like to eat peas and broccoli, you love football, you hate when your mom rents those cheesy romance movies and you concentrate super hard on something to avoid talking about what's on your mind. I'm your father, I know all that stuff. It's your job to tell me so I can help you out." My dad explained, as I stared at the pool table. Then I looked at him.
"You can't help." I said, taking my shot. I finally got a ball into the corner pocket.
"Try me." He challenged.
"Dad, let it go. I don't want to talk about it." I said, watching him shoot.
"Randy, stop being so stubborn." He told me, placing his poolstick on the rack. He then walked out the door and went upstairs. I could hear his footsteps as I looked around the rec room. I saw the Playstation 2 and memories of the days of Summer where Skye and I would have races and other competitions flooded my mind. I placed my poolstick back onto the rack and ran up to my room.