This Means War (The Virgin Wars Contest)

Chapter Seventeen

{Cole's POV:}

"And, in other news, a local teen is arrested for the murder of her own father." My heart stopped. "Neighbors said he had always been aggressive, so it lead the authorities to believe that he had been abusing her, and his wife who is now under medical care, for years now. Brookelyn Carter has been locked up in a nearby county prison until further claims can be investigated. "

I stared at the television in a daze. Keeping my eyes trained on the screen, unmoving and silent. They didn't mean my Brookelyn, did they? Wait, did I just call her my Brookelyn?! What was happening to me? Hell, what was happening to her? Better yet, what had happened to her? She could be a bit annoying, sure, but she's not a killer! And her father wouldn't do that to them, would he? But, what else could I think as the news reporter described the incident, standing outside of the estate.

I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what I even wanted to think.

There was an unfamiliar twinge of pain in my chest as I thought about her being thrown into jail. Others would see her as a target with her long, auburn hair that waved all on it's own. My mind wandered to the last time I'd seen her, aside from the television.

The coffee shop. Why had she had left so sudden, tears brimming her eyes. The blonde girl, Nichole I think, had said that she was manipulative. I remember how trained her eyes were on me when she'd said it. Obviously, they weren't on the best terms if I had to pry Brooke off of her. But, it still bothered me.

When she'd left that day, the only reason I didn't do more to stop her was because I didn't see the point. She had Alex, she didn't need me....

God, I can't even remember the last time I was ever that jealous. Oh, that's right, I hadn't been. Ever.

Brooke made me want to be different. How cliche is that? But, it's true. I was an open book for her, but she was the mysterious one. I had an overwhelming urge that she had been hiding something from me, but I didn't push it. I didn't want to push her away like I had most of the people in my life. 

She was different.

And I liked it. I liked her. Ever since she'd spilt her drink on me, in my house to be exact, I'd felt this undeniable attraction towards her. But, I was shoved into the "friend" category. All I could do was paint my feelings away, and sleep with disposable women that meant nothing to me. And then that night on the roof...she took my breath away.

She was effortlessly beautiful. The moonlight only accentuated her features, making it hard to resist climbing up that stupid tree to reach her after her family issues. We'd sat on the edge of the house, fingers laced together, and then we danced. I almost kissed her, but I didn't want to ruin everything. Kissing her would've meant complicating things. I just wanted things to be simple.

And I think that every time I saw her after that night, even if it was just passing her in the school hallways, I fell just a little bit harder in love with her.

{Brookelyn's POV:}

All I could hear was my heart beat thundering from within my chest. I dared to peek over my shoulder, only to find the woman that yelled all of those suggestive comments with her arms folded.

Okay, now I'm dead. So dead. Goodbye cruel world.

"Hello," said the squeak from my lips.

Taking in the mass amounts of tattoos camouflaging the woman's skin, I gulped. Her eyes were narrowed, her voice deep and annoyed. "You're in my seat."