Dalton's POV

A knock on my bedroom door took me out of my thoughts as I sat up on my bed and yelled for them to come in. My mother walked in slowly, gingerly making her way to the bed and sitting on the edge, sighing.

"What's up with you?" I asked, rudely.

She sighed once again before speaking, "I've offered for Jack to stay with us for a while. How does that sound?"

"Fine." I replied.

"Oh, and one more thing Dalton, don't get too mad."

"What have you done?" My eyes widened.

"I told him he could sleep in here, on the floor in the corner on the spare mattress we have." She mumbled so quietly that I could barely hear her, but I heard her.

"No! Not a chance, absolutely no way I'm sharing a room with him. Nope." I raged. She can't just invite people to stay in my room without my permission, I don't fucking think so.

"Dalton, please, it won't be for long, and the poor boy was living on the streets, what else could I do." She pleaded.

"Make him sleep in the living room." I spat.

"You know the couch in the living room is barely big enough to sit on, let alone lie on." I hated to admit it but she was right, our living room was pretty small, therefore the furniture was too. He would have awful sleepless nights if he rested on them couches, but he would also have an awful sleepless night on the streets too so why does it matter?

"Fine." I groaned, dramatically falling back onto my bed, with a huff.

"Thank you, baby, I love you." She smiled and leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

"Yeah, whatever." She didn't really love me, I was a disappointment, I was rude, and impolite, she hated me. All the love was fake.

She got up and made her way to the door, "Oh, and you will need to offer him something to sleep in." She spoke quickly before closing the door so that I couldn't object. This is a fucking joke. I have to share my room and now my clothes too with a random boy.

A while passed and I was still laying on my bed, carelessly watching both of my parents struggle tremendously to bring the mattress into the room. Not only was it heavy, I'm presuming by their struggle, but they also had to pull the large mattress through a tight gap between the edge of my bed and desk. Instead of getting up and helping, I laid there, watching. Helping would mean I actually wanted the boy to share my room, and believe me, I did not. If my parents were going to randomly invite people into my room, then they can sort it out by themselves.

Once they were finally done with the mattress and setting up the sheets and covers, they all made their way downstairs and stayed there for majority of the afternoon. Once 11 had struck on the clock, I heard a gentle knock on the door. Instantly deciphering who it was, I rolled my eyes and told them to come in.

"Hi." Jack muttered, it was almost a whisper.

I was tired and not in the mood for small talk, "I left you a top and sweatpants on your bed for you to sleep in."

"T-Thank you." He mumbled ever so quietly and took them to my connected bath room. After a few sounds of commotion, he stepped out, clothes in hand. He was wearing my clothes and my top on him was massive, it dropped down to just above his knees, and the sweatpants were loose and baggy. I laughed a little, looking at him. It seemed like he noticed because he looked down in embarrassment.

"W-What's funny?" He questioned me in his signature hushed tone. "Do I look stupid?"

"Little bit, but don't worry, you will be under the covers anyways." I replied and shrugged my shoulders. Clearly it was a big deal for him though as his face instantly turned strawberry red.

He soon shuffled towards the bed and buried himself in between the covers. I copied his actions and climbed under my covers, closing my eyes and trying to fall in a restless sleep. That's when I was distracted by an almost inaudible muffle coming from the opposite side of my room.

"I'm sorry, Dalton. I know you don't want me here." The shy boy murmured.

I twisted in my bed, rolling my eyes. I know I should have replied to him and assured him that it was okay, but it wasn't okay. I don't care that he is sorry about this, he's still staying in my room, in my personal space.

I soon feel asleep, surprisingly unaffected by the boy just meters away from me, maybe it wasn't as awful as I thought it was going to be. Maybe.