7. Chances Are..

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I'm not very pleased with this chapter...*sighs*. I've been emotionally detached from everything lately because in exactly  fifteen days I'm going to graduate...I feel so...old. And I'm not too excited to grow up either. Oh well, I haven't been myself lately that's all so I hope you guys like this anyway! It's not my best work but I'm going to try really hard to up my game. I know what I want to write and I don't have writers block. It's just a horrible case of old-itis. Ha. That was a dry, lame joke. Anyway, I hope you forgive me for this rant and I hope you guys like this chapter anyway!  I promise not to write something so...eww, okay? I promise. 
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ALSO!: Picture Of Blake at the side !
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7.  Chances Are...

Blake’s POV

I woke up alone the next day. I remembered the details—vaguely though of me being all babyish and using Noah as a shoulder to cry on. Right now all I wanted to do was go to him and have him hold me tightly. This was so bad—Blake Deveraux—I, was not like this.  I felt so alone. I kept on thinking of how he tensed up whenever I stirred and he would tightened his arms around me.

I was a girl who had plenty of nightmares. Not gory blood sucking ones with Bloody Mary or whatever—no. I had the nightmares of when my parents died. It happened again. And again. And again. It was horrifying. I woke up once or twice that night and I could feel Noah’s heartbeat racing as I tightened my hold around him. He’d tense up when I did that too.  

I groaned when I got up. “Whoa, head rush.” I murmured to myself. I wondered what would have happened if Noah were here to sooth and relax me. I had a raging headache and I didn’t know why. “This sucks like hell.”

“Blake! You’ve got to go to school today, sweetheart!” I didn’t want to go but since the police visit, we’d been distant but I knew she was trying.

She wasn’t used to having a teenager just like I wasn’t used to having someone caring for me. But I responded to her. I nodded or shook my head when she asked questions but I limited what I would say to her. I didn’t want to snap at her and ask her why she didn’t tell me that my parents deaths weren’t accidents.  

I nodded to myself  feeling the rush slowly get out of my senses and got ready for school. After my quick shower and some quick applying of some eyeliner and mascara I started to look for clothes. I didn’t feel like being noticed—ever. Maybe my aunt would cut me some slack and let me wear clothes that would attract less eyes.

I ended up wearing faded blue, ripped jeans and a baggy, black Ramones singlet. There. I looked decent but I looked casual. Good. I didn’t want to leave my hair down so I quickly braided it to my side and grabbed my ray bans. Though I had a good sleep…with Noah being there, I had bags in my eyes from when I hadn’t slept.

After grabbing a piece of toast and kissing my aunt goodbye I left for school. I would have been late if I didn’t go now. Thankfully, Noah was already at school. How did I know? His black mustang was parked closest to the school, call me stubborn but I wanted to avoid him at all costs. So I parked at the spot furthest from him.

Getting out of the car, I put my Ray Bans on, shielding my eyes from the sorry sight before me. There were a bunch of girls scowling at me with Hayley—the head cheerleader I think, was glaring at me. I ignored them, holding onto my sling bag until I got to homeroom. The class was just about filling up and the teacher Mr Cross or something like that still wasn’t there so I sat the back. For a moment I closed my eyes, trying to savour the fact that noone was here pissing me off.

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