Lahat ng Kabanata ng Eyes On Mine: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

Derick First Person Point Of ViewI turned around in shock and there was Troy, completely drunk, stumbling into the room with nearly an empty bottle in his possession. His eyes went very wide when he gained sight of what was occurring.For a second, time froze, my brain trying to catch up with what Tray must’ve been seeing. His eyes flicked from me to the guy, and his mouth opened in this confused, sloppy grin."Dude what the heck are you doing?"I could totally feel the tension mounting, just waiting to erupt. There was no way I was going to allow anyone to believe this was what it actually was.I turned around and hit the guy with a swift and firm punch without even considering it.I punched him in the jaw and he sort of collapsed back against the bed."You sick freak," I snapped, my voice much louder than I intended, my words almost trembling with adrenaline.Seriously, what were you thinking?The guy stared up at me with this weird pained and shocked expression like he was unable

Derick First Person Point Of ViewI kept my composure and didn't even crack a smile when I removed my helmet."Out," I muttered in a gruff voice and simply walked past without looking up. I knew what was next for certain.She wasn't going to let that go either. She stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray and trailed after me, her voice rising as she moved in behind me."Out again?""Seriously, why can't you simply stay home for a day, Derick?"I stopped in the corridor and turned to her, my voice steady but icy."This is the reason. You yelling like this," I muttered, gritting my teeth.She puffed on her cigarette, all the pent-up frustration simmering just below the surface. "I just.I don't want to see you caught up in anything sketchy.""Come on, eat something, come home," she implored, her voice softer but with a hint of desperation that had reached my hearing.I looked over at her for a second, not uttering a word."Yes, I'm not hungry," and with that, simply turned to go to my r

Cyrus First Person Point Of View“This time everyone's getting a warning, but next time, you won't be so lucky."Every person in the room experienced this relief wave. The guys sighed, and their normal cocky attitudes returned immediately.They started cracking jokes, taunting each other, but I barely heard them.I was kind of dazed, but the relief was completely overwhelmed by the immense fear of what my dad would say when we returned home.The men surrounded Arzhel and me, looking all concerned and such."Hey Cyrus, don't cry, okay?" one of them commented, but I completely caught the taunting attitude they were giving out.Derick's voice completely ruined the atmosphere."Cut that out," he instructed sternly, giving the group a hard stare.They all sort of smiled shyly but then retreated, leaving Arzhel and me alone.Derick locked eyes with me, his gaze unreadable. "Yo," he said, his voice low.I gazed up at him, wiping away tears."Stop crying," he told her, though he wasn't being

Cyrus First Person Point Of viewI gritted my teeth, straining to keep my grip on him, my whole body stretched tight as the strange feeling of motorbike beneath me overwhelmed my senses.Derick must have seen, because he presently slowed the motorcycle onto the shoulder of the road, the deafening din slowly receding into stillness.I breathed in deep, ragged gasps, my chest heaving and my heart pounding. My hands shook, and there appeared to be a tight band tightening around my chest. Never had I been on a motorcycle, and never had anyone pressed so intimately against me."Hey," his voice cut through my terror, firm and calm. He moved in close to me, his arms tight around my waist and lifting me off the bike.I stumbled a bit, recovering my balance as my feet hit the ground, but quickly had Derick's strong hands supporting me, holding onto my waist.I raised my eyes to his, holding my breath for a moment as our eyes met. His gaze was piercing, but deep within it lay a gentleness, some

Cyrus First Person Point of ViewThe door hit the wall loudly, waking me completely. My heart started racing as I attempted to roll out of bed, and my phone fell out of my hand. My dad had just appeared in the doorway and he seemed really angry. "Hi, who took you home?" he asked in a soft voice. I squirmed uncomfortably, my mouth dry, not quite knowing what to say. "Uh. I—" "Get up," he said, advancing. I sort of dragged myself out of bed, staring at the ground the entire time. I could feel his presence towering over me, his frustration radiating like heat. I could feel my heart pounding, just waiting for those nasty words I knew were coming my way. But they haven't yet. Not yet. "what's going on with you?" he asked, his voice slightly softer, though you could still pick out that edge. I swallowed hard, but nothing seemed to be happening. Nothing seemed quite right in that moment, just this crushing sensation of foreboding for what lay ahead. "Why?" he question