This is the first part to my five or six part novella, I really would like some advice on how well I did Riley's thoughts and how I did to explain how he's feeling, and then general comments would be really helpful.
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Riley laid back on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Like they did every day, his thoughts drifted back to her. Was she happy now? Was she with somebody better? Did she know that he still loved her? An image of her sitting on her coffee table-a place they so often liked to sit-eating pizza with Connor.
Connor. He shuddered at the name; he knew if she was gonna be with anyone, it would be him.
“Riley James!” his mother shrieked. “Stop sulking and get down here!”
He groaned and rolled out of bed slowly meandering down the stairs to the kitchen the source of his mother’s shriek. “Yeah Ma?” he asked, pretending to be tired.
“You’ve got to stop sulking,” she ordered.
“Not like I can help it,” he retorted.
“You’re just not trying. But that’s why I brought you down here.”
He groaned and walked into the living-room.
“Riley! Get back here!”
He ignored her. Sadly, she followed him in her high-heeled cow-boy boots and blue dress. Couldn't she act more like somebody from New York? No, not his mom with her curly brown hair and intense green eyes.
“Riley, your grandmother called.”
Oh god no! He thought scornfully I hate going to her house! He knew the only reason his grandmother would call would be to insist that one of them visited her on her huge hill two hundred somethin miles away. “I’m not going up there.” He flopped down on the couch and rolled away from her, staring intently into the green of the sofa that made a strange contrast to his own blue ones.
“Yes you are. your cousin Amanda will be there and she’s bringing one of her friends.”
“I’m definitely not going up there!” Not that he wouldn't mind seeing Amanda though, she just always had an awful taste in friends. His mother grabbed his ear and painfully yanked. Witch! he thought ruefully to his mother as she pulled him into a sitting position.
“That was mean,” he said, rubbing his sore ear.
“You’re going up there,” she handed him a train ticket. “You’re meeting your cousin and her friend at the station in three hours.”
He groaned and dropped the ticket on the floor. “Mom!” he pleaded. “Don’t make me go!” He laid back again and put the pillow over his face. She ripped it off and threw it over to the chair.
"Riley James!" she scolded. "Get your ass up and go pack your bags!"
Grumbling, he stood up and stormed off to his room. Grabbing his duffel bag he shoved in a layer of clothes, his lap-top, another layer of clothes, his music junk-his gutiar music, his Ipod, his USB cords and his CDS- another layer of clothes, and then finally, his books.
“Why are you bringing your books? It’s the middle of summer. You’re not going to have time to do any reading,” his mother stated.
“Gives me a reason to avoid people.”
“You can drive now. Not like you’re going to be spending the whole time cooped up in that house. Ma’s got a truck that she never uses.”
He slung the bag over his shoulder and started down the stairs, “How long are you condemning me to that hell?”
“Riley watch your mouth!” He rolled his eyes and repeated his question. “For six weeks…”
His eyes widened in horror. “Six weeks? Why six weeks?”
“That’s how long ma’ wanted you to come.”
He leaned against the wall and banged his head against it a few times, No, no, no, this could [i]not be happening! First I lose my girlfriend and then I lose my summer vacation?[/i] Without saying another word he went outside, threw his bag in the back seat and got in the front passenger seat. He immediately turned the radio all the way up to drown out the rest of the world. He closed his eyes and pictured Claire’s face in his mind. Her beautiful lucious brown hair swaying in the wind as they sat on top of the bridge, their feet hanging over the edge, and her beautiful brown eyes the same shade as her hair. Claire he thought. I will always love you. He only wished that she loved him too.
The only bright spot on this trip was being able to see his cousin, Amanda, again-the tomboy of a girl-he spent most of his childhood with. He’d bet anything that they’d still have a thousand things to talk about and do. And the car. The car offered him some excape.
It sooo needed and I will post the rewrite very soon. However, in return for that never-ending critique, I shall look at yours. 
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