THE THIRD P3RSON

•Chapter 11•

I sat in front of my computer for hours trying to figure out what to write about Christina.

Yeah. Let me write about a girl I can't find one good thing about. If first impressions are anything to go by, Christina didn't exactly leave us on good terms. With that being said, how am I supposed to write something good about her if I don't like her?

At all?

I stared at the computer for a good thirty minutes more.

I bit my tongue out of reflex. I laughed at how stupid I was while I opened a new window on the computer.

"@.Ba-bling feels conflicted. So when do you learn to start trusting people again?"

I bit my lip waiting for someone to answer. I stared at the clock on the corner of the screen. It read "3:47 am." I squinted my eyes, my head suddenly hurting.

I got a message back. "Well @.Ba-bling, I learned a long time ago that you have to trust everyone until they give you a reason not to. If you close yourself up with everyone, you'll be missing out on something special."

I sighed. "Thanks @Cha-Ching ." I typed back as fast as I could.

I shut the laptop soon after that, falling into the sheets underneath me. I looked over my head to my window. The thins curtains welcomed the little moonlight we had. I rolled myself to my side and propped myself onto my elbows, stretching my neck to see the backdoor that I knew was there. The backdoor of the house that led to my garden was in my line of view, as well as in my reach. I laid myself to look back upwards towards the stars that calmed yet excited me at the same time. Every time I looked up, my breath hitched. My brain turned into mush. They were just so beautiful, even in my bad setting. The brightest stars still saw a way to shine through the pollution, the clouds and the darkness. I felt like I was the one that was being tilted. I felt like I was floating.

I thanked whoever was watching me that Amy didn't decide to take my room for her modeling dolls or something. For all I knew, she didn't step upstairs for anything. Why would she? Nothing of her's was up here. Just a bathroom filled with my stuff and my art room. Amy had her office, her material room, her storage room, and her bedroom.

My heart protested. No thinking about how things were. There is no use. It's in the past.

I looked up at the amazing lights that winked me to sleep. I whispered into the cold air.

"Stars."

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I woke up to rain. Of course.

It was hard, thundering rain. So, technically, I woke up to the rain that was trickling onto my face.

I sat up as fast as lightning (he) and my reflexes kicked in. I twisted my body to face behind me in order to shut the window, all while my eyes squeezed shut tightly. I wiped my eyes and peeked at the time.

I gave a bitter laugh. 5:59 am. "Because who needs sleep?" I asked the ceiling. "Baggy eyes? That's trending. Splitting headaches are welcome, because, ya know, why not?"

I got up to head to the bathroom. The rain was still pouring like it was mocking me and my wet hair. I grabbed a towel shaking my hair and letting it rest at the top of my head while I brushed knots out of the mess of curls I called my hair.

"Did you see her face when she woke up? Did good guys. "
I scowled. Three hours of sleep and my mind taunts me with raindrops.

I sigh not knowing what to do anymore. I'm too awake to fall asleep and school is in a few hours. What could I-

I laughed by the way my eyes just darted to the computer. I make my way over to it and sit myself away from the window. My room had the scent of wet leaves. It instantly calmed me. Turning on the beautiful machine and typing on the fabulously styled keys, I logged into my email and opened the document I was sharing with Ryan. We had both written questions the other could answer when they had time.

I saw words fill my screen...

I wasn't touching the keyboard.

I blinked in confusion.

What was Ryan doing up?

The great thing about a shared document was that I could watch as he was typing if we were on at the same time. He was fast and he answered all the questions so far with detail.

"What are her hobbies?" I had written "her" referring to Christina.

Christina always has something to do so I'm pretty sure everyone in the school knows what she does and what she likes. Everyone except me, that is. I don't want to know but TA-DA! The project has been dropped onto my doorstep. On the bight side, at least the answers aren't coming from Christina herself. Ryan typed his response that would have required some thought and time. It made me wonder if he had slept at all. I read over his response, my eyebrows raising.

He sure knew a lot about Christina (duh) and didn't hold back on the details. "Christina usually likes to go shopping. She likes pink so she goes to the store that's named that a lot. She loves clothes. She lists different types of fabrics that I can't remember. She constantly says that each shade of color is different and her eyes sparkles when she talks about fashion."

I rolled my eyes. She's another Amy, I knew that already, but what was worse was that Ryan admired her. What was there to admire except for the way she....she...

The way she dresses...?

I watched as Ryan stopped writing. His name was hovering there. I watched as he backspaced.

"Her eyes sparkled when she talks about fashion" was erased. My forehead creased.

Why would he delete that?

Other then the fact you can still tell he loves her.

Or maybe he doesn't want to anymore.