It's currently Wednesday and my mom's driving (more like speeding) me and Diego to the plaza. I have fifteen minutes until my shift starts but we need to talk to Sue. As we arrive, my mom idles in front of the coffee shop and tells us she'll see us at the end of my shift. "You're just going to leave him here for four hours?" I ask my mom as I grab my bag at my feet. She glances at him as he taps away on his phone and shrugs.

"He brought his homework," my mom expresses and I glance at Diego's bag hanging off of his shoulder.

"Four hours worth?" I ask.

"You work at a book store. I'm sure he'll find something in there to read," my mom replies before insisting that she has to go.

"Are you ready?" I ask Diego and he replies with a short shrug. I lead the way to the coffee shop, pushing open the door. He enters without thanking me and I just roll my eyes, stepping ahead of him. I approach the counter to find Sue making coffee.

"Hey, Orion. You're a bit early," she greets me.

"Hey, Sue. I thought I'd stop by before my shift. Remember when I told you I had a friend looking for a job?" I ask as I place both my arms on the counter.

"Yeah, is that him?" she inquires as she peers over my shoulder. I turn around to see Diego looking around the cafe curiously, glancing at the paintings hanging up on the walls.

"Yeah," I answer before breaking my gaze away from him to look at Sue. "He doesn't really do much talking."

"Well, call him over and I'll see about hiring him," she replies with her bright smile.

"Diego," I call and he turns around. His eyes trail from me to Sue and then back to me. I nod for him to approach us and he does, stopping beside me at the counter.

"So you're looking for a job, I hear?" Sue asks, getting a nod in response from Diego. "What makes you want to work here?"

"Uh..." he trails awkwardly. He shoots me a sideways glare and I can tell he's mentally yelling at me for not telling him there'd be questions. "I like coffee?" It comes out as more of a question than a statement.

Sue gives a chuckle. "Do you work hard?" she questions and I know he wants to shrug but he plays it off by adjusting his shirt.

"Yeah," he answers quietly.

"Do you have any previous work experience?" she asks.

"I mean, I've done volunteer work, if that counts," he replies, unsure. This factoid surprises me.

"I have an application for you to fill out. When you hand it in, I'll get back to you about your hours," Sue answers.

"So he has the job?" I ask Sue and she nods. Diego offers a small smile but it doesn't seem genuine at all. In fact, I think it'd have been better had he not tried at all.

"But you got three strikes and then you're out," she warns sternly as she slides an application across the counter. Diego takes it in his hand and nods at her.

"Thanks," he mutters quietly.

"Thank you, Sue. I'll see you on my break for my hot cocoa," I call to her as I leave the store with Diego in tow. As soon as the door closes, I look at him. "You're lucky Sue's a nice lady. You'd have blown that interview had it been with a complete stranger."

"I don't talk to adults all that much. Whenever I do, they're usually yelling at me," he explains as we reach the book store. I grab the door handle and pull it open.

I don't really know how to respond to his statement so I just look around the store, locking eyes with Diana, who immediately looks at the boy standing behind me. "Just go find somewhere to sit and don't cause any problems."

"You have my word," he replies as he heads for an aisle off to the left.

"And try to get your homework done," I tell him.

"Most likely not," he responds and I sigh and head towards the counter where a shell-shocked Diana is standing 

"What's he doing here?" she whispers, despite the fact that he's already disappeared behind some shelves.

"I got him a job at the coffee shop. He's going to be here until the end of my shift so don't do anything weird," I warn her.

"Would you look at that?" She smirks as she points to the employee schedule posted on a pole behind the counter. "You've got shelving duty again. Maybe, if you're lucky, you'll get some smooches behind the books." She imitates a kissing noise and I groan and shove my hand in her face as I slip out from behind the counter. I grab a book filled cart and head towards the first aisle.

It's not long before I reach Diego, who is sprawled across the floor with his phone in his hands. When he sees me, he offers me a short glance before going back to his device. "Did you get anything done?" I ask, breaking the silence.

"I beat my high score in this game I'm playing," he informs me.

"I meant academics wise," I clarify.

"Oh...then no," he responds.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's...5:28," he replies.

"Fill out that application and we'll bring it back at 6," I instruct him and he sighs.

"Do you guys have an outlet?" he asks. "My phone's dying."

"We do...in the front," I answer. "I can charge it for you."

"But I won't be able to play my game," he frowns and I scoff.

"Good, you need to get your homework done," I mutter. He stares at me as I shove a few books in their rightful place. When I glance back at him, I see that he has his eyes narrowed and lips pouted. "Fine. At least do the application."

"Whatever," he replies as he digs around in his bag for his charger. "Don't go through it," he insists as he hands me his phone wrapped in the white cord.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I tell him with a roll of my eyes. "I'll be back. Just watch this." I motion vaguely to the cart before walking off.

I jog to the front just as Diana finishes ringing someone up. "Is that his phone?" she whispers as she stares at the slim device in my hand and I nod, plugging it into the outlet.

"Yeah," I answer as I place it on a shelf behind the counter so Diana won't accidentally step on it.

"Let's go through it! Does he have a pass-code?" she whispers and reaches for the phone. I immediately look at her with wide eyes as I protect the phone with a cupped hand.

"How about we respect his privacy and not touch it?" I retort and she scoffs.

"You're no fun," she complains.

"Leave it alone, Diana," I warn. "I don't want to get blamed if you see something you don't want to see."

"Who said I wouldn't want to see it?" she offers up a wink and I scowl before turning towards the shelves.

I jog back to the aisle where Diego is now sitting up with his knees facing the ceiling and the application to the coffee shop on one of his textbooks. It's silent for a few moments as I work and he fills out his papers. "Orion?" he addresses as I continue to stock the shelves.

"What?" I respond.

"When it asks why I want to work there, what should I put?" he questions.

"Why you want to work there," I tell him. He's silent and I look to see him staring at me with a flat look on his face, so I shrug. "Why do you want the job?"

"I don't," he answers honestly. "I'd rather be out and about hanging with my friends but your parents think I should keep busy."

"Well you can't exactly put that now can you?" I respond. "Just say you want to be an active member of the community or something like that."

"Can you repeat that?" he asks and I do, allowing him to copy down my words.

I continue to work until six o'clock comes around, which is when I'm was officially on break. I jog over to fetch Diego. I find him surrounded by a textbook and a notebook. But, instead of working, he's balancing a pencil on the tip of his nose, moving ever so slightly to keep it balanced. As I approach, I notice that there is half a page worth of writing on the piece of paper and I shrug. At least he got something done.

"Come on," I startle him and he turns to look at me. I watch as the pencil falls from his face.

Rather than speaking, he lazily shoves his stuff into his bag, not even bothering to zip it up. As we approach the front of the store, he carefully places his bag over the counter and Diana smiles at me as if insinuating something. "Have fun on your break, Ri."

I glance at her before nodding at Diego to hurry up. He walks alongside me to the coffee shop with his application in his hand. We enter and I head towards the counter ready to order. I look at Diego and suddenly wonder if he's hungry. He's been sitting in the bookstore for two hours and I know he hadn't eaten anything when we got home from school. I'm not even sure if I saw him at lunch and he definitely didn't eat anything for breakfast.

"You want something?" I ask him and he shakes his head. "You sure? You didn't eat much today."

"I had food last period," he leans on the counter and offers me a smirk, "when I was skipping class."

I roll my eyes at the last part of his sentence and wait for Sue to finish her phone call before ordering my usual. She looks at Diego and smiles when he hands her the completed application. "I'll get back to you sometime this week," she informs him as she looks over the application with a nod.

I walk to my usual spot at the window and sit down, waiting patiently for my hot cocoa. Diego walks over and hesitates before taking the seat across from me. I gaze out the window, not bothering to speak until I think of something I've been wondering for the past few days. "Where do you go?" I blurt.

"What?" he replies, slightly confused.

"When you sneak out at night? Where is there to go?" I clarify.

He thinks for a moment before he licks his lips and continues. "A lot of places."

"Like where?" I ask and he shrugs again.

"It depends on what I want to do," he answers as he stares at me. I take advantage of the eye contact, allowing myself to admire the hazel color. "Is this about Saturday?" I'm surprised he's acknowledging it.

"Yeah," I reply. Instead of answering, he gazes out the window and I have a feeling he's not going to reply. "You're so good at it."

"At what?" he asks.

"Sneaking in," I respond. "I would've been so loud."

He chuckles as he stares at the wooden table. "Practice makes perfect."

"A medium hot cocoa," Sue interrupts as she delivers my drink.

"Thanks," I smile at her and she nods before walking off to another table. "So where do you go?"

He looks at me, assessing my face for a moment before chuckling and turning towards the window. "Maybe one day you'll find out."

+++

I'm so swamped in schoolwork that I don't even realize it's Friday. I haven't left my room at all this week, only conversing with my housemates in the mornings. For dinner, I'd run downstairs, take a few bites of whatever was made, and then quickly rush back to my room to finish whatever I was working on. Today, however, I hadn't even heard my mom call for dinner at six so when a knock sounds on my door at 8 o'clock, I'm confused as to who could possibly want anything to do with me at such a late hour.

"Come in," I mumble from my place at my desk where I'm doing my calculus homework. The door opens and I'm surprised to find Diego standing there. Much like me, he kept to himself this week. Whenever I stepped outside of my room to use the bathroom or to grab a snack, his door was closed. It was only ever open when he was out walking the dog. I saw him in the mornings before school, occasionally at school, and when I'd run downstairs to dinner. I barely talked to him when I'd see him at school and when I did, it was just to make sure he was going to class.

"What are you doing?" he asks curiously when he sees me holding a large binder on my lap.

"Homework," I answer.

"That's what you've been doing these past few days?" he asks in shock. "Homework?"

"Yeah," I answer.

"Wait, let me get this straight. For the past three days, you've been in here doing your homework?" he repeats.

"I've also been doing projects and other forms of assignments, too," I correct. "Oh, and studying and retaking my notes."

When I glance up at him, he seems genuinely shocked. His mouth is open and his eyebrows are furrowed as if he can't grasp the concept of actually spending time on something so educational. "You can't be serious."

Deciding not to bother with convincing him that I spend my days focusing on school, I redirect the topic of conversation. "Speaking of work, I need to get some more papers from the desk in your room."

"Do you really need more work?" he asks.

"I'm almost caught up with my assignments," I tell him.

"Almost?" he asks me. "At the rate you're working, you should be done with college by now."

"Have you been doing your homework?" I question.

"Select pieces of it," he answers in a calmer manner. He refrained from going to study hall every day this week but attended the first three classes. He even bothered to bring his book bag, though he barely put anything in of it save for a notebook, a pencil, and papers he received in class, most of which were crumpled.

"Why not all of it?" I ask and he shrugs.

"I don't feel like it," he replies.

"You should do it," I encourage him.

"Why?" he whines, drawing out the word.

"Because it's important to get good grades. Colleges like that," I answer, earning a scoff in response.

"I barely passed last year," he informs me. "I don't think any colleges will want me after looking at my transcript."

"Maybe if you just apply yourself-," I start and he scoffs again.

"I've heard that so many times," he replies.

"Because it's true," I respond. "Go get your book bag."

"Why?" he asks.

"Just go get it," I insist

"No offense but I have better things to do on a Friday night than homework," he responds.

"For an hour," I suggest. "Then you can leave and do whatever you want. It's not like you can go out yet anyway. My dad checks up on everyone when he gets back to make sure we're all safe; he's not home yet. Plus, my mom's sitting in the living room. So you'd just end up sitting in your room until midnight before you can climb out of the window or sneak downstairs and leave. So get your bag."

I look up to find him staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face before he kicks off of my door-frame. He disappears into the hallway before returning a moment later with his bag at his side. He steps into my room. Looking around my living space, he decides to take a seat on the floor a few feet away from me. He takes out his work, making sure to be as noisy as possible, filling the once silent room with sighs and loud page flips.

After twenty minutes, he lets out a frustrated sigh and I look at him, lifting an eyebrow. "What is it?" I question. He hands me his folder and I stare at his pre-calculus work. Narrowing my eyes, I hand it back to him after informing him what the topic is.

"Thank you. That clears everything up," he retorts sarcastically.

"You don't have your notes?" I ask and he gives me a flat look.

"Ah, yes, allow me to pull out my nonexistent binder filled with all the notes I didn't take during the classes I didn't attend," he says in slight exasperation and I sigh, closing my eyes and running my hand down the side of my face.

"Go in your room. In the third drawer on the left hand side of the desk, there is a binder. It's purple. Grab it and bring it back here," I tell him. He stands up and leaves the room. About three minutes later he returns and I'm not sure what takes him so long but I don't bother asking. "Now use the table of contents to find it."

"You made a table of contents?" he asks me and I nod.

"Comes in handy, doesn't it?" I reply slyly and he sighs as he flips open the binder.

As time ticks by, he loudly notes that an hour is up when the clock strikes nine. "Is my dad home?" I snap. He sighs and shakes his head. "Then don't worry about it. Keep working."

By ten o'clock, he's finished his work and is complaining as he shoves it into his backpack. "Finally," he mumbles to himself.

"Doesn't it feel good to have finished?" I ask him.

"No," he mutters. "I have a headache."

"But now you can go to class with your completed homework," I respond.

"Every boys dream," he retorts. He looks at me and sighs yet again. "How do you do this for, like, six hours a day?"

"I just think about how all this studying is going to benefit me when SATs come around," I explain to him.

"Do you ever have fun?" he asks me and I take a long pause.

"My type of fun or your type of fun?" I ask as I continue to retake my notes. This is considered a break for me. I'll do this for fifteen minutes before going back to my AP homework.

"Well, what do you consider fun?" he asks. I think about it for a minute before shrugging. I consider reading fun but I don't think that answer would satisfy him.

"I don't have time for fun," I answer. For the last three years, I've been doing the same things. I didn't have a job my freshman or sophomore year so I was consumed with school work and that's it. Last year I took on four AP classes, which kept me from going to many family events in fear of falling behind. My mom encouraged me to do half of last years load, but as you can tell, I didn't take her advice.

"Tell me, Orion, have you ever kissed a boy?" he questions, catching me completely off guard. My head practically snaps up to look at him before my eyes dart towards the open door.

"What are you talking about?" I hiss and he laughs.

"I'm going to take that as a no," he replies.

"What does this have to do with anything we're talking about?" I demand to know.

"It has a lot to do with what we're talking about," he responds.

"Have you?" I ask after a moment of thought.

"Kissed a guy?" he asks before shaking his head. "Nah, I'm not into guys."

"I meant a girl," I respond.

"Oh..." he trails before laughing. "What do you think?"

I think you've done a lot more than kiss girls. Of course I'm not going to say that though. That'd be weird. That would mean that I thought about you... "I don't know. Yeah?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I have not," he responds. I scoff without even realizing it as I copy my notes. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes," I answer honestly.

"And why is that?" he asks.

"I don't know. You just seem like the type of guy to have gotten with a lot of girls," I respond, unsure of how else to phrase it. Saying romantically experienced would've sounded way too nerdy.

"Mouth kisses are gross," he expresses and I don't feel like sharing my opinion because what do I know? "Chewed up food and germs- it's nasty. I definitely don't want to do that."

"So you haven't kissed a girl by choice?" I ask him and he nods, resting his head on my blanket as he sits with his back against my bed frame.

"Precisely," he answers, staring up at my ceiling. "And you haven't kissed a guy because...?"

"I've been too busy with work and school to even think about guys," I respond. But then again, it's not like guys think about me.

"Orion have you seen-?" my father interrupts our conversation as he stands in the doorway. His eyes fall on Diego, who is sitting cross legged on the carpet beside me. "There you are."

"Hey, dad. We were just doing some homework," I tell my father with a forced smile. My heart is racing. Had my father heard me talking about kissing boys and relationships with a boy staying in our house, he'd have put ten locks on my bedroom door.

"Really?" my father asks with a large smile. His source of happiness is probably at the fact that I'd gotten Diego to actually bother with his homework. "Diego, I have a few applications for places in town on the kitchen table."

"No need, I got him a job," I tell my dad, who seems even more surprised and happy.

"Really? Where?" he queried.

"The coffee shop next door to the bookstore," I tell my father, who nods in approval.

"When do you start?" my father asks Diego.

"I'm not sure yet. Sue said she'd get back to me," he replies as he looks at my father.

"This is great!" my father grins. "I'm real proud of you two. Keep up the good work." With that, my father leaves the room.

"Well that's my cue," Diego announces as he stands up, brushing off his pants as he grabs his book bag. "It was nice doing homework with you."

"You're not even going to wait until he's settled down? What if he steps into your room and finds that you're not there?" I say in surprise, and a little hurt. Was he that eager to get away this entire time and I hadn't noticed?

"You'll cover for me right?" he checks and I stare at him with a blank look on my face. "You're a bad liar, aren't you?"

"No," I retort quickly, glaring at him for thinking such a thing.

He cringes slightly. "Yeah...you are," he informs me of the information I already knew. "You know, I thought that strict parents create the best liars. But I guess that's just parents with rebellious kids."

"I'm rebellious," I tell him with a slightly open mouth.

With a smirk, he leans against the door frame. "Oh really? Sneak out with me tonight."

"I can't. I have homework," I reply, earning a laugh from him.

"Yeah, you sure are a rebel. Have fun doing your homework, Orion," he responds with a laugh as he exits my bedroom. I stare at the door as he shuts it.

+++

It's one in the morning when I hear a light, almost inaudible knock on my door. I get up and open it to find Diego standing there dressed in all black. His mischievous, hazel eyes look to be more green in the dim lighting of my room. "Please don't tell me you're still studying," he whispers as if the idea of me studying genuinely causes him emotional and mental distress.

"No, I'm reading," I correct him and he shakes his head.

"That's not much better but I'm not sure what I expected," he responds before glancing down at my apparel. I'm wearing pink piglet pajama pants, which cut off right before my white bunny slippers, and a light pink t-shirt. On the face of my shirt is a pig, and as you may have guessed, a squiggly tail is displayed on the back. I try to refrain from turning around in order to avoid any potential teasing from Diego. "Cute pajamas."

I pucker out my lower lip as I look down at them. Deciding to change the subject, I look at him. "You travel by foot?" I ask him.

"What?" he replies, mimicking my quiet whisper. I look out into the hallway, noticing the light in my brothers' room flickering on. I quickly grab a handful of Diego's hoodie and pull him inside, maneuvering around his body to lightly close my door. When I turn around, I see him staring at me with wide eyes and raised brows as if asking why I just manhandled him into my bedroom. The phrasing of the thought made me blush and I shake my head, averting my gaze.

"One of my brothers was leaving his room," I whisper in explanation as footsteps sound from the hallway.

"Nice save," he responds.

"Like I was saying..." I trail. "You walk around right?"

"My motorcycle would be a little obvious, wouldn't it?" he asks as he steps further into my room. He scans my light blue walls, finds an interest in my book shelf, and approaches it.

"You never did tell me what you do when you're out there," I remind him.

"You never asked," he explains as he skims the titles. "You only ever asked where I go."

"The two coincide, correct?" I respond and he shrugs.

"More or less, but I don't answer questions that aren't directly asked," he answers as he tilts his head sideways to read the rest of the titles. "Gee, for a girl with no relationship experience, you sure do read a lot of romance books."

My face reddens and I stumble over my words before sighing. "They're interesting, okay?" I mumble. He looks at me, quietly laughs, and shakes his head. I refrain from telling him about my vow to not read any romance books until I spark up some romance in my own life. That'd probably make things awkward.

"Is it all you read?" he asks in bewilderment, "...you've got at least fifty books with the word 'Love' in the title."

"Are you just going to stand there and make fun of my preferred book genre?" I ask him.

"Are you suggesting we do something else?" he asks evocatively as he runs his fingers along the spines of my books. The tone of his voice makes me feel like there is a hidden meaning behind his words and the look in his eyes leads me to believe that there is.

"What are you implying?" I ask as my eyes flit across the room, averting eye contact immediately. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him grinning largely.

"Nothing. I was just asking if you had any other ideas on activities we could partake in," he responds. "Your mind strays to the gutter pretty fast."

My face is bright red now and I'm blinking rapidly. "I wasn't even referring to anything of that nature," I try to lie.

"Sure you weren't," he responds. "So what do you do when you're not studying?"

"I read and work," I tell him.

"Do you ever go out?" he asks and I'm silent. "When was the last time you went out?"

"Tuesday," I trail and he rolls his eyes.

"Not work related," he answers and I shrug.

"I don't know," I tell him. "Why does it matter?"

"You've got to do something that isn't so...innocent," he tells me as he grabs Tiger, my little stuffed bear, off my bed. He tosses it in the air a few times before hitting it like a volleyball, watching it land with a bounce on my pillow. "Tell me, have you ever gone to a party?"

"I'm going to assume you're not talking about a birthday party," I mutter as I nibble on my lip.

"You assume correctly," he replies. "Unless of course that birthday party was in the form of a house party."

"No..." I trail.

"Have you ever tasted alcohol?" he asks and I shake my head. "Okay, what have you done that would be frowned upon by most parents?"

I shrug. "I don't know...nothing, I guess."

He turns to look at me with a curious look on his face. "You're, like, the epitome of innocence."

"No I'm not," I retort, crossing my arms.

"You're literally standing there with braided pigtails, pink pajamas, and bunny slippers and you're trying to tell me you're not innocent?" he asks as he slumps on my bed. He sits with poor posture, allowing his hands to sink down on the blanket surrounding him. This is the first time a boy's ever been on my bed. When I don't respond, he continues talking. "Orion, have you ever hugged a guy?"

Now here's a question that's embarrassing. Hugs are practically nothing! You can hug almost anyone without it being too weird. Kissing is understandable- there has to be some sort of connection for a kiss to happen, but a hug is practically harmless. But the answer to this question is the same as the rest. "No," I say, attempting to sound confident but failing horribly. Even to my own ears, I sound pathetic. What kind of sixteen year old girl hasn't hugged a guy?

"Have you ever liked a guy?" he asks me, not at all shocked that I haven't hugged someone of the opposite gender before. He furrows his eyebrows for a moment before he tilts his head. "Wait...do you even like guys?"

"Yes," I answer. "And yes for your first question, too."

"So you've desired to do all of those things? You know, hugging, kissing..." he trails curiously.

I feel my face redden as I rub my hand against my arm. "Yeah, I guess," I mumble. "What's with all the personal questions?"

"I'm just trying to figure out how you're still functioning," he tells me. "Most girls your age want a relationship right?"

"Some girls, I guess..." I trail.

"Are you one of those girls?" he asks.

"I don't know..." I explain. "Boys aren't really interested in me. The only boy that may have been was intimidated by my brothers."

"Your brothers... I forgot about them. Are they one of the reasons you haven't dated? You know, aside from your extreme nerdiness?" he asks with a smirk and I want to scoff.

"Kind of," I sigh as I take a seat at my desk, preferring not to join him on my bed.

"What else then?" he asks. "It's not your looks. It's not really your brothers. Are you, like, crazy?"

"No," I tell him. "At least I don't think I am." I'm still a bit surprised at the fact that he sort-of complimented me. By saying that I'm not single because of my looks, was he insinuating that I'm not ugly? And by saying that I'm not ugly, did he discreetly call me pretty? Or am I overthinking things?

"So no guy has ever walked up to you and asked you out?" he inquires and I shake my head. "Huh...weird."

"I guess I never put myself out there. At least that's what my friend Diana says," I tell him and he nods as if understanding.

"Have you ever gotten in trouble with your parents?" he asks me.

"Yes," I answer and his ears perk up as he moves forward a bit, anticipating a good story.

"What for?" he asks and I know before the words leave my mouth that I'm going to disappoint him.

"I got a D- on a quiz," I inform him and his eyes become half lidded as he looks at me.

"Wow, you should've been arrested," he replies as he moves back, returning to his original position.

"Did you really expect anything that bad?" I ask him and he shrugs.

"Do you ever want to do anything rebellious?" he inquires.

"Yes," I honestly admit.

"Then why haven't you?" he asks.

"I never have any opportunities," I tell him with a yawn.

"There are always opportunities. You've just go to go out and get them," he informs me with a grin as he stands up. "I'm going to let you sleep. I'll see you tomorrow. Night, Orion."

"Night, Diego," I whisper as he turns off the light. His footfalls fall silent after he closes the door. I hear the faint sound of a door opening and closing and I know he is in his room. I get into bed, moving my book from it's place on my pillow. I stare at my ceiling, thinking about what exactly teenage rebellion consists of.

Kids going against their parents. But maybe it's more than that. Maybe it's something else. Kids trying to establish to their parents that they're people too? And that they are their own person and they should have some say over their own lives? Whatever it truly is, I'm not sure. All I know is that I've never truly given it a second thought until now. Diego's words made me think. I look at the ceiling as curiosity bubbles in my stomach. I try to imagine going against my parents. I've always been a good kid. I rarely got into trouble growing up.

All the people in the books I've read sneaked out of their houses and went to house parties and even did things that could land them in jail if caught. Those books always grab my attention because they're exciting. Does that mean my life is boring? Maybe. Who am I kidding? Of course it is. I only do two things - school and work. I'm basically like an adult. Am I wasting away my teenage years doing things I'll have to worry about later in life? Yes. 

Suddenly I realize something. I've never done anything rebellious because I was never given a chance to do any of those things. I never had a reason to sneak out of my house. I was never in touch with anyone who knew about parties. I've never had an opportunity to do anything my parents would frown upon. But now that Diego's around, maybe I'll be given some of these opportunities. Well, now that I think about it, just earlier he offered me a chance to sneak out with him. Maybe he was joking but perhaps if I bring it up to him, he'll consider it... Maybe I just might take him up on that offer. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?