Y/n POV

Silence. Thats all I wanted. But we don't get what we want, do we? Nope. Because, trust me, if I got everything I wanted, Ken would not be at my door, slamming her fist into it.

"Y/n, open the door!" She yells over the sound of her fist making contact with the wood.

"You didn't open it when you had the key so why should I now?" I yell back.

"Open the door!" She yells, the banging stopped.

"What, I'm supposed to subjéct myself to you?" I chuckle.

"I said open the door!"

"And I said no!" I yelled just as loud as her.

"Ken, shut the fuck up!" Nix yells from downstairs.

The house turns upside down when mom is gone. When shes here, it's mostly quiet. When shes gone, its like this, sometimes worse. Nobody can cool their shit when shes gone. But when shes back, no one speaks a word about what happened.

"You shut the fuck up, Nix!" Ken yells back. "She won't open her damn door!"

"Why do you want in my room so badly?" I ask. "Awe, do you want to bond with your sister?"

"Ew, no!" Ken exclaims.

"Good, I would rather die then spend time with you." I roll my eyes.

"That makes two of us." Comes Ken's reply.

"Why do you want in her room?" Nix asks, his loud stomps coming up the stairs.

"She took my phone!"

"Don't worry sis," I smirk. "This Dylon guy won't bother you anymore."

She began banging on my door, harder this time. "Give me my phone! What did you say to him?!"

"Relax, its not like he's your boyfriend or anything." My smirk grows. Her phone was off and on my nightstand the whole time.

"Y/n!" She yells.

I roll my eyes, a headache forming. I sit for a few more minutes, thinking she'll stop. She didn't. If her hand got tired, she'd go to the other one. It didn't stop.

Sighing, I stand up from my bed and pull my shoes on. I find the piece of paper in my pocket of the jeans I
wore a few days ago and stare at the address before shoving it in my pocket. Grabbing my phone, I turn for the door. Ken's fist collides with my chest as she went to hit the door again.

"Where is my phone?!" She yells, enraged.

"Go find it." I roll my eyes. "Tell mom I'm at a friends, or don't, I honestly couldn't care less."

"Or are you going to your boyfriends?" Zach smirks as I pass him.

Putting a jacket on, I turn around and reply. "A friend. I'm not even sure if they're that." I chuckle.

I turn to walk out the door, feeling the cool air push against me as I walk. Strolling down the sidewalk, I realize Mark isn't far from me. Only a ten minute walk.

Its not like I wanted to go to Mark's. I just wanted to leave the house. Well, more like leave Ken's annoying self. It was only half past five, so I don't think he'll mind. At least I hope not.

Halfway through the walk, I realized I didn't bring anything with me to work on this. Well, its Mark Fichbach I'm talking about, he's bound to have things I can use. He knows everything about this book, he's the one who wrote the summary I needed for christ's sake, I'll be fine.

I read the address over and over again, looking for the right number. Going down the sidewalk of the friendly looking neighborhood, my sight bounced from left to right, looking for the right one.

Once I found the correct house, I began walking up the short driveway. Small kids were playing outside in the yard next to Mark's with adults watching on the porch as they conversed. One of the adults glances at me and tried to hide their point in my direction as they began saying something I didn't hear.

I stand in front of the large, white door with the gold handle. I hesitate, but I force myself to knock before I can change my mind. No backing out now. Unless its on of his parents and I say I have the wrong house. I can always go to my dad's. Before I can think anymore, the door swung open to show a beautiful woman with long, dark hair and tan skin. Her nails were done with bright colors and a design that must've cost a lot.

"Oh, may I help you?" She speaks.

"Uh, is Mark here?" I ask, my voice more timid than I'd like.

"Yes, come in!" She smiles warmly. "He's downstairs."

I walk into the nice, kinda large house. Closing the door, I see the kitchen and living room are connected. The large TV was paused, showing a reality show that was halfway through.

She opens a door next to the couch that I thought was a closet and yells for Mark.

"Mark honey, can you come up here please?" She calls.

"Yeah," was his reply. A smile breaks out onto my face at his reply. I expected him to always say "Yes ma'am" or something like that like he does with the teachers.

She stands next to me and smiles softly.

"I'm his mom," She smiles, holding her hand out. "You can call me Ms. Fichbach."(ugghh, I don't know Marks mothers naaaammmmee)

"Y/n," I introduce, shaking her hand. "I love your nails."

"Oh thank you," she smiled, staring down at her hand. "I painted them yesterday and I thought they came out pretty good."

My eyes widened. "You did that?"

"Yes I did," She smiles proudly.

Mark comes up after his loud steps were heard as he made his way up. He smiles as he sees me and closes the basement door.

"Y/n came and asked for you," His mother smiles. "I would like to know when a friend is coming over but its fine."

"Sorry," Mark rubs the back of his neck. "We're just going to work on Mr. Hallin's project."

He nods for me to follow him as he retreats back down the stairs. I follow him down the carpeted stairs and into a small but large basement with a brown sofa and a normal sized TV, unlike the one upstairs. A door was next to the stairs, wide open to show a bedroom.

"That door stays open!" His mother calls after us.

Mark sighs, rolling his eyes as he ran back up the stairs to open the basement door. He ran back down, pushing his glasses up. He walks into the bedroom next to the stairs, motioning for me to follow. He keeps his door open and sits on his bed, grabbing the open laptop next to him.

His room wasn't big but it wasn't small. Just like the rest if the basement. His bed was pressed against the white wall on the left and had a large, black bookshelf filled with books next to the door. A desk with a small stack of papers neatly placed on the top with a full pencil holder on the corner sat next to the wall on the right. On the empty side of the desk, it had a picture frame with him, his mother, and his father.

"I didn't actually believe you'd show." Mark speaks, typing on his laptop.

"Why, did you not delete all the porn from your laptop yet?" I joke.

"No, because there is none of that to delete." He rolls his eyes.

"Your mom is nice." I smile.

"She gets annoying sometimes." Mark says, closing his laptop and setting it to the side.

"I like her," I smile. "she's better than mine at least."

"Whats wrong with yours, if you don't mind me asking?" He raises a brow.

"It's nothing," I shrug off his question. "shall we get to work?"