oh my GOD will she do it?!
Chapter 20-Jumper
As my foot hovered over the edge, and I was about to lean forward to plummet to my death, two strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me backwards.
"Hey!" I yelled, the simple word breaking the chill silence of the night.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" a voice hissed in my ear, and I whipped around to see who it was.
It was Clarke. His hair looked white in the moonlight and his arms were crossed in front of him, his eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Dying," I hissed back.
"Why the fuck would you do that?" Clarke asked, his voice breaking as his arms dropped to his sides in a gesture of defeat
"Because I'm gonna die anyway! And nobody would care!" I snapped, crossing my arms.
"I would care," Clarke whispered, and he stepped up to hug me.
His strong arms wrapped around me once again and I inhaled his scent, that faint pine-ish natural scent that always made me feel better. My arms coudn't stop themselves as they wrapped around his neck and my head rested on his shoulder.
What if I wasn't going to die? What if I was being stupid?
No, jump, you're gonna die, my third, evillest conscience whispered.
SHUT UP!, my second conscience whispered.
No.
Yes.
No.
YES.
NO.
YES!!!!
Okaayy, BREAK IT UP. I'm having a MOMENT here.
"You have so much to live for, Ellie," Clarke whispered, his face buried in my wig.
"Yeah? Like what?" I whispered back, my voice hardening again.
"Like me. Tony. Moxie. Getting through college. Dave. Nick. Josh. Bryce. Cris. Donny. Luke. Aaron. Steven. Jack. The other Josh, our Josh. Peter. Gillian. Alexis. All those people and so much more, Ellie! Why can't you see it?" he whispered, and I saw tears gather at the corner of his eyes, tears that reflected the shining moon above.
"I just feel so . . . sick," I said, burying my face in his shoulder. Thank you Captain Obvious..... I could be so dumb.
Clarke nodded and led me over to a lounge chair, where he sat down and pulled me into his lap.
"I just feel like I have no purpose other than to do treatment, get worse, and die. I just don't feel like I'll get better," I said, and I felt the tears pouring out, staining his nice shirt.
"Hey hey, don't talk like that," Clarke whispered, gently holding my chin in one hand and turning my face around so I faced him. "You will get better. I promise."
"How can you promise when you have no control," I whispered, turning my face away again.
"Because I know you'll fight it until you don't have any strength left," he whispered, and I faced him.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was throwing my arms around his neck and bringing my mouth to his.
It was kind of a needy kiss, a kiss begging for strength, reassurance, protection, and more. I felt him wrap his arms around my waist and pull me closer so that there was no space separating us. Our kissing became more rushed, as if we were afraid that one of us would be torn away any second.
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