Chapter 10: Second Door On the Right, Dear.

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Second Door On the Right, Dear.

CHAPTER  10

Jake

“Aren’t you going kind of fast?”

“Is it bothering you, Babydoll?” I still didn’t know why I called her babydoll. It seemed silly.

“No. It’s just that Matt always drives super slow, because he’s really obsessed with the safety of his car, so I’ve never really experienced a fast car drive. So just try not to kill me.”

“Who’s Matt?”

“You don’t know the people on your team?”

“Oh, him.”

Awkward silence. She was staring out of the window, and I was never good at breaking the ice anyway. I wondered why she’d defended me. I mean, ‘He’s not disgusting’ isn’t exactly the best defence in the world, but it was pretty amazing coming from her.

Is she suffering from split personalities or something? Sluts are not supposed to be kind, are they?

“I just wanted to—”

“Isn’t this—”

We broke off. More awkward silence.

“You first.” I said.

“I just wanted to thank you, you know, for earlier.” I must have looked confused because she elaborated. “For punching Brody.”

“Oh, that. Don’t sweat it; it’s not like he’s my favourite person in the world, either.”

“Yeah, well, I just feel like I owe you.”

“Don’t worry, babe, you can always give me a lap dance, ya’ know.” I said in classic Brody impersonation. She laughed. Then shuddered, remembering how creepy Brody was.

“So, what were you going to say?” She asked.

“Well, for starters, I was going to try breaking the ice by commenting on how awkward this situation was.”

“Like that would have set me talking.”

“It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn’t sound forced.”

“So, what is it between you and Brody?”

“Are you trying to make this situation more awkward?” I asked harshly.

“Jeez, calm down; I was just trying to make a conversation.”

“Asking about my personal life is not the best way to start a conversation.”

“Okay fine, I’ll shut up then.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

What did I just do? The temperature in here just dropped by a few hundred degrees. I sighed.

“Brody and I don’t get along well.”

Silence. She wasn’t going to let me off that easily.

“He’s sort of the reason my parents were killed.”

She gasped.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, putting a hand on my shoulder, “I’ should never have asked.”

Yeah, she shouldn’t have, I thought bitterly. Keeping this truce is getting too damned difficult. I kept thinking that she now knew some part of me that she shouldn’t, that I’d somehow weakened in front of her. So I maintained my rigid posture, breakneck speed, and thundering scowl.

Let’s see how that doesn’t intimidate her.

It worked. We drove the rest of the way in silence. I stopped in front of her house. It was pretty big, painted white with light beige trimmings. Very elite. Not at all like Evan’s garish place. I waited for her to get out, but she didn’t.

She was asleep. It wasn’t even late evening yet, and she was asleep. Her hair was all messed up, because it had been half out the window, and her cheeks were flushed because of the wind. She looked adorable.

Darn her! This is why I hate my conscience. She apologised and I didn’t even respond. I owe her one now. And I do not like owing anybody anything. At least that’s what I told myself when I picked her out from the car, and strode to the door of her house. Her mother, I knew, was a sweet lady, and she wouldn’t get all worked up over me carrying her daughter. She’d probably find it cute.

I rang the bell. Kayla snuggled into the crook of my shoulder, and clutched at the fabric of the jersey I was still wearing.

The door opened.

“Yes?” Mrs. Jackson asked, like a young man carrying her daughter up to her doorstep was the most commonplace thing on earth. God, I hope not.

“Uh, she fell asleep in the car, and I didn’t want to wake her up, so…” I muttered, trying not to visibly stare at the horrible yellow shade of the living room wall.

“OH! How sweet of you, I’m sure Kayla will appreciate it when she wakes up. Come in, come in. Kayla’s room is upstairs, second door on the right, dear, and in case it’s locked, the key will be under the flowerpot on the window ledge to the left. Stupid girl, she keeps on thinking that I’m going to do something to her room while she’s out.”

“Oh, okay.”

I made my way up the steps, thinking that Kayla was actually pretty light in spite of her height. Also, by the way her mother had directed me to Kayla’s room; I was a little worried that this sort of thing was a regular occurrence. What mother just lets up strange people in her daughter’s bedroom?

The door wasn’t locked, thankfully, and I could safely say that the colour scheme of the bedroom was a hundred times better than that of the living room. I placed her on the bed; she must have been jostled, because she opened her eyes sleepily and looked confused.

“Jake?”

“Shh. Just go to sleep, babydoll.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered and closed her eyes again.

Oh god. Kill me now. Is there some award you get for making people feel guilty? This girl frankly had me befuddled. She can act all bitchy when she wants to, and the next moment she’s all sweetness and light.

“Jake?” Her eyes were still closed.

“Yeah?”

“Get out of my room.”

See what I meant about the bitchy part?

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In my defense, the last chapter was pretty long :P

RandomFactAboutMe #10: I need more comments on this book. See, I'm not even asking for votes, I'm so nice like that! *puppy dog eyes* never mind, I can't do the eyes. I don't pout very well either. Huh. Okay, let's just stick to the pretty please with a cherry on top?

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