Chapter 3 =]

Here's chapter three. Please give me comments for help.

So there it was. Ryland's dad was demanding his apology to me. But better yet, Ryland turned around, whipped the MP3 headphones out of his ears, and spat the most hurtful words at me. "You stand there on your balcony, look down upon us, and demand my respect? No. You can eavesdrop on what I say, but I'm not going to regret what I said. I a person of my words. So, no to you, Dad, and no to you. And I don't even know your name, but theres no way in hell I ever will because a person like you doesn't deserve an apology." He said with a finger in my face.
Then he walked away in his leather jacket and tight fitting jeans combo, slammed the headphones back into his ears, and ran. He started running away from my house. Wow. His dad tried to apologize. Saying his son hadn't been the same since his mom's passing and how his son was a little depressed, but he needed the job to pay for their house, food, clothing for their seven kids. And I smiled, and I told him the job was still his but I just over reacted. I understood. I went upstairs to my room that night, and played my guitar for hours. Strumming the cords over and over until my finger tips were bleeding. I was mad, angry, hurt. But why? I didn't know a thing about that boy and he didn't know anything about me.
The next day at three- thirty when I got off the bus, there he was. Raking my yard, and his dad was cutting the tree branches. It was as if nothing had happened. But when I saw his face. For some reason, I just thought I could see deeper. Like the scar that was so big on his shoulder I could see it from my driveway. Or the fact his sad, tired, eyes weren't focused on the leaves. I was confused with why I even cared. That that guy, had yelled at me and left my house, but I sort of got him. I could try to relate about the whole seven siblings thing, because I have seven of my own. But, I probably couldn't quite get it.
I was memorized by him. For a while that day, I stood to watch him from the windows. He was in pain. It was obvious by the way he would have to rest his left arm every few seconds. Or how he was hungry, which was obvious by the way he was gnawing on a long piece of grass for a few hours. Which was when I sat down on the bay window, with my head laying on the glass, and my knees drawn up to my chest. And I nodded off to a dreamland where my family cared about me and this guy was just normal. In my dream world I almsot looked past his outter shell and got to know him, but I was awaken abruptly when a rugby ball was smashed in my window. I was faced with glass all over my lap and a confused bleeding cut over my left eye and on my left shoulder. I saw the head landscaper and Ryland sprinting towards me. I was confused on what happened. Tom was screaming at his son who was out running him by a long distance. Who then picked me up and held me like I was a small infant. He ran, I was bleeding and I could feel the pain in my head, and I started to cry. I was crying in the arms of a now that I can see, toned and strong guy. With freckles dancing across his nose and the prettiest kelly green eyes. I was begging to feel dizzy and he told me to lay my head down. Where are we going? I demanded, but it was black from there out.
When I wooke up, I was sitting in what I thought was Ryland's bedroom. My head was pounding and my shoulder ached. I could hear my moms glass shattering scream, and dads oh so concerned voice on speaker phone yelling towards Tom. I turned and saw Ryland sitting on a desk looking out the window.
" Where am I?" I stammered. He turned and looked for a second. Smirked and told me I was in his room. "But wait why?" "You're here because, ugh, look, I'm sorry but I threw my rubgy ball too hard towards your window where you were sitting. And it shattered the window. Where you were sleeping with your head against it. And you were cut by glass. On your forehead and shoulder. Look, I'm sorry. But you only needed some stiches and it's not that bad, and you'll just scar. Ok fine, I was aiming for you, but I never wanted to shatter the glass. Just wake you up, you know? While youre in there sleeping I was shoveling fricken dirt out of your yard. But you need to tell you're your parents not to fire my Dad. God, why am I telling you this? He was a doctor, and he lost his practice and was forced to become a landscaper. We were recomended to your parents. And we need this. I have six brothers and sisters. Six! Like the damn Bradys! God, please, we really need this." He was confessing, blabbering, and ranting for what felt like hours. After the sermon, I just looked over and said "One less than me."