I slammed the door, not hearing the noise over all the voices yelling in my head.

Too many thoughs, no solution to my... problem.

Plan. I needed a plan. There was no way I was going to beat Julie if I tried to out-fight her. My only option was out smarting her, and I had no clue how to do that.

I was lying on my bed, looking up at the slats of Louis'. What was with him? How could he not see her for what she really was?

And the one thing I didn't want to think about at all: What happened in the alley.
What was that? Was it actually O'Donnell? And could she do it again? And why did it make me feel so guilty then when now I felt nothing?

I thought about it bed for a long time, listening to my watch's tick.

The door slowly swung open. "Hey Mark how was your day?" My dad asked, coming and sitting on my bed.

"It was great dad! I got an A on my History paper." I faked a smile.

My dad rubbed his clean-shaven chin and looked back up at me. "Hey, we haven't got to spend much time as a family together and I was wondering if you wanted to  head to our beach house on Monday and Tuesday? I  mean they're teacher  work days but of you have plans..."

"Dad." I interrupted his rant. "I don't have plans. It sounds fun."

"Oh. Yes I just thought maybe you had something planned or didn't think it was cool to hang with friends or whatever."

"Is Louis coming?" I asked.

"No he's hanging out with a friend."

"Did he mention what friend?" I added a tone and pretended to look at a magazine.

"Jule... Julia... Something along those lines."

I nodded, pretending not to care, even though I did. Louis and Julie weren't supposed to be a thing, they shouldn't even know each other for God's sake.

I could tell him. There was the slightest chance, smallest possibility that she cared about him enough not to kills him. Even then there were too many variables.

She could kill someone else I cared about, or she may simply realize that he would never love her and kill him anyways.

"Is that a yes Mark?" my dad asked, laughing and waving a hand in front of my face. "Chinese takeout? Or no?"

"Sounds great dad." I smiled.

"Alright see you for dinner." he slowly backed out of my room. "Get some studying done okay?"

"Alright dad." I answered, pulling my backpack up to my bed like I was going to study. Ahaha. Study! Good jokes.

I dropped the bag back into the floor. And stared up at the ceiling. I ran my hand through my hair and stopped when I reached my neck, thinking.

And my brain flitted back to their eyes.

Passing in front of me over and over. I never felt bad about it. It wasn't my brother, my mom, my dad. It was someone else's, someone who granted would never see them again.

Would there be someone that could ever forgive me? Would those eyes ever understand why I'd done what I had?

Or would I always be a bad person. Would I always just be the boy with no heart.

The boy who would never be forgivin.