Twelve: Pictures and Lies †

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Jason and managed to find me on Friday to discuss meeting up in town on Saturday to show me the modelling pictures.

He'd admitted that he hadn't told Lea what he was doing specifically and instead just said that he was going to town to get a few things for English. I didn't know how I felt with all of the confidentiality but it certainly felt thrilling to spend some time alone with Jason again.

I still remember how he knocked into me on the very first day. There was something about it, I realise from that point, was stimulating and full of anonymity.

I picked up my bag and hung it aimlessly over my right shoulder. I picked up my key card and phone and stuffed them in my bag, the bag resting on my right thigh while I stuffed them under the top flap. Then, I made my way downstairs.

"Are you Tiegan Smith?" a male voice asked me, blocking my way down the stairs. I was still on the step and this inexplicable boy was on the ground floor.

The boy had golden blonde hair that fell down to his shoulders in small waves, concealing his elf-like ears, probably. His eyes were an iridescent palm leaf green and his lips were a light rosy pink. He had a mole right under his eye and a spot appearing to the corner of his mouth. He was wearing baggy jeans, Nike trainers and a polo top. His accent didn't sound like it was from here, either.

"Yes. Why?" I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking my leg out slightly.

His left eyebrow rose inquisitively and in one swift motion. "Jason didn't mention that you were British, instead he just said you beat the school record."

I turned my head slightly. "Jason told you about me? Wait, what's going on?" I was shaking my head, trying to comprehend everything and wrap my head around it all.

"He said you were pretty," the boy replied.

I had to compose myself, I know, but it felt so surreal for Jason to say that. Even though it was just pretty I felt like there was still chance for something else to happen and maybe even more things like that. Jason was just like a dream, in some ways.

His words were compelling and his eyes told me a story that his lips never could. Even though he did creative writing for English, even his hands couldn't write the perfect story the way his chocolate eyes held that mystery of his past that shadowed his future.

"Why was he speaking about me?" I probed, trying to halt the blush morphing on my cheeks. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Scott – one of his best friends," he informed, licking his dry lips. "He just said what he was doing and said not to tell Lea. Truth be told, I didn't know who she was at first."

I knitted my eyebrows together. "You're one of Jason's best friends and yet you didn't know what his girlfriend looked like?" My words were leisurely, just to validate that I wasn't making a mistake.

Scott shrugged. "He's never brought her over to us lot before," he elucidated. "Plus, I only met him because I'm on the soccer team."

Okay, I perceived, that was very odd. How can Jason have been dating this girl since high school and never showed his friends what she looked like? But with my bewildered expression, Scott spoke on.

"I thought she was just some crazy obsessed girl when she came to soccer practice and tryouts," he began. "It was only when he came back from escorting you to the nurse's office, his arm around Lea did I realise she was his girlfriend." He suddenly looked awkward. "And I should probably confess, I was the one who kicked the ball in your direction by mistake." He ruffed his hair at the side, running a slim, long hand through it so the waves rustled.

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