I took the boy's hand in my own, giving it a slight shake, "G-Georgia McKinney," I managed to stutter out after a few seconds of awkward silence.
He looked down for a quick second then back up at me, studying my features once again, "But you prefer Georgie, right?"
I was impressed that he knew that, almost everyone doesn't catch on to the whole tomboy attitude.
A small smile crept onto my face, masking the redness in my cheeks, "Exactly, George is good too," I added, nodding.
He finally released my hand, his soft skin slipping away from my own slowly. The feeling of his knee's pressing lightly against my own and his hot breath coating the skin on my face made me shiver.
"Can I ask you something?" I suddenly perked up to Jim, his brow relaxing into a soft frown. His eyes studied my own like he was searching for something I simply wouldn't understand.
He only nodded in response, his hands sitting comfortably in his lap as he continued to stare intently at me. I noticed how his pupils hadn't contracted throughout our greeting and his blue iris' were almost invisible. His blonde fringe sat loose across his forehead, messy and unkept but the style suited him a little too well.
I cleared my throat, "Why are you talking to me? I mean, you haven't stopped eyeing me since we got here,"
He simply smiled widely at me, his eyes lighting up at the fact I'd noticed his strange behaviour towards me, "So, you are interested in me,"
His smile only got wider, his pearly white teeth showing themselves to me. I sighed in defeat as I stood to my feet and brushed past the boy, my legs colliding with his torso. I'm not entirely sure why I needed to touch him or press against him as I had done, but I did it anyway.
I casually walked past him, ignoring him and aiming to stand near the far wall as there was a small pile of magazines on the square table beside a chair. I stood in front of the small table, picking up a magazine related to what appeared to be fashion in the '90s and began flicking through it before I heard light footsteps approach me from behind.
I gulped as I felt his breath collide with the back of my exposed neck. I was half expecting him to place his soft hands on my arms or worse my waist, but that didn't happen. I glanced at him in my peripheral vision, seeing that he was stood close to me, but remained a small distance away so he could continue staring at the back of my head.
"Can't you just leave me be?" I spat at Jim as I continued to face the wall in front of me, flicking through the magazine as casually as possible. I figured this action would drive him insane, and I was about to see just how right I was, even though he was already beginning to piss me off.
I felt him step closer to me, his breath hitting the side of my neck as he leaned his head closer to mine and the side slightly. I could clearly see his features in my side vision but shifted my head to peer over at him to get a clearer look at what he was thinking.
From a young age, I was always incredibly good at reading people's faces and by this, I mean what they're possibly thinking about, feeling and sometimes even emotional trauma's they've experienced. All I needed to do was look into their eyes and I was able to get a rough idea, the downside was that I was far too easy to read.
I studied his ocean blue eyes, his pupils being less dilated than they were before, instead, his iris' let me know how he was feeling: happy. I couldn't make out anything else though as I found this Jim Carroll fairly difficult to read.
I glanced down at his lips as his eyes met mine simultaneously, having to look away before I found myself leaning in towards him.
I heard him let out a short laugh, not a cocky one, but one that was supposed to arouse me. His breath yet again continued to hit the side of my neck as he leaned his head closer to my own, his front pressing ever so slightly against my back.
"No can do, Georgie, never met a girl like you before," Jim whispered in a raspy voice as he lifted his right hand to my ear, brushing my fringe behind it and tucking any loose hairs in also.
I found myself becoming increasingly nervous around him, the butterflies in my stomach rising as I continued to speak to the boy. I fiddled with the pages of the magazine I still found myself holding, the crackling being the only other thing, minus our heavy breaths, filling the silent room.
I looked up without warning and stared at the white wall directly ahead of me, "Oh, you mean one that isn't interested in a fuck boy like you?"
I instantly regretted mocking the boy as he didn't hesitate to grasp my neck roughly from behind, pulling himself into my back and lips pressed to my ear. His left hand grasped my throat tightly, his hand seeming to wrap around it perfectly as he applied a small amount of pressure. I had dropped the magazine in a panic as I grabbed his hand, using the other to grasp his fingers, but he caught onto this action fast.
He ripped my right hand from his fingers without much force and pulled it down in front of me, pressing it against my crotch as he held it tightly in his own. His breath was practically in my ear as he breathed heavily from the recent actions, still holding my neck and hand tightly; I couldn't move out of his tight grip if I tried.
"Don't insult me and think you'd get away with it," Jim said as he pressed his head to my own, his hair tangling within my brown hairs.
I found myself giving up far too easily, stopping myself from struggling in his grasp and letting him hold me. This caused him to release me slightly, slipping his hand down from my neck and picking up my left hand, holding my hands together by cupping them from underneath.
"I didn't know you'd take it so personally," I commented almost sarcastically, but he caught on fast.
"You need me to teach you the meaning of respect?"
After he spoke he squeezed my hands so tightly I thought the bones were about to snap in half, the pain making me squeak out an apology easily.
"I-I'm sorry," I said as I lowered my head, his grip being released completely from my hands and moved up to my shoulders.
He pressed lightly on my biceps as he placed a short, dry kiss on the side of my neck, "Until next time,"
Before I could even process what had just transpired, Jim was gone. He'd bolted out of the main doors to the building and I quickly hurried to the window to see him jogging down the street, glancing back at me with a small growing on his face.
I shuddered whilst looking down at my hands, the red marks setting in fast. The thought of him wrapping his arms around my neck made me quiver, but even though it should have made me uncomfortable, truth be told it didn't, but he was never to know that. He didn't need to know how nervous he'd made me, let alone the small feeling of arousal I had gotten just by feeling his touch against my hand.
---
(Three days later, Saturday, June 24th 1995)
The summer heat had been getting to me, the chronic burns left all over my forearms didn't help. After my mother had forced me to tell her about "Jim", which I didn't and come up with a whole other story, she decided to firstly ground me even though the joke was on her because I rarely left the apartment, secondly beat me, and thirdly burn me with a naked flame. She'd used a cigarette lighter to burn marks across my wrists, not entirely sure why but I wasn't going to question her methods of punishment, little late if you ask me.
My birthday was on the 24th of June and I was turning seventeen years old. Luckily my mother was out working all day and night at that shitty, run-down cafe of hers, so I was free to do what I liked all day; sounds like the perfect birthday to me.
I threw on a pair of old denim jeans and a short-sleeved white t-shirt, not bothering to cover my scarred wrists, pulled on my converse and headed over to the quarry.
Growing up I had always wanted to do one thing: Cliff diving. I was terrified of heights, but never had the chance to face my fear, but here in Manhattan, I had plenty of chances.
I stepped out of the main door to the building and wandered down the street. Having lived here for a couple of years, I had gotten to know my way around and finally worked up the courage to go and find the quarry.
Once I'd arrived, I was totally alone, not a soul in sight for miles. I was perched on the side of the quarry as I peered down at the one-hundred-foot drop below me, my stomach beginning to churn at the sight of it. The water was cloudy and the complete opposite of "clear", the colour being grey and dull.
I let out a short breath as I decided against jumping, but I knew that I'd eventually warm up to the idea of it soon enough. I stepped to the side and placed myself on a large rock, pulling out my sketchbook and beginning to sketch the scenic sight ahead of me.
My pencil marked the white paper as I began drawing the crowded area of bushes and grass on the opposite side of the murky water, the lines intertwining with each other on the page to create a wilderness. The bright blue sky was the easiest to sketch, filling in the top of the paper with a neat shaded area, using the side of the pencil lead to fade the white into a deep grey.
I found myself tense as my head spun to my right-hand side, studying the cluttered area of dead grass to find the source of the noise. I had heard what sounded like a group of boys chattering amongst themselves in the distance, but the sounds were only enclosing on me as I remained still.
"I thought I saw you come up this way," The familiar voice rang in my ears as it did a few days ago in the therapists waiting room.
I quickly stood to my feet, spinning on my heel to face the boy whose name had clearly been imprinted on my brain, but then again, I was always good at remembering names.
I shot a frown in his direction as I eyed him, "You were following me?"
He didn't even deny it, just stood there with a large smile on his face. I glanced down from his golden hair which shone brightly under the glowing sun, the breeze making it sway across his forehead loosely; he wore a navy blue t-shirt that proved to be loose-fitting, blue jeans and a pair of black converse that matched my own.
He appeared relaxed as he studied me, his frosty blue eyes shifting up my small frame before leaving my body completely. I noticed he was eyeing my sketchbook which I had dropped without noticing, along with my pencil on the pale stone.
I didn't speak once as he opened it and flicked through the many drawings inside of it, knowing what he was thinking just by looking at the expressions he was making.
After a few moments, I heard more voices approach me from behind, causing me to step forward into Jim. I felt his eyes meet my features once again, scanning every area of my face with his mouth agape. I could only see this in my peripheral vision as I continued to stare at the boys nearing us.
The first boy that entered my view was short and dressed in casual clothing. The brunette had curved biceps along with a solid frame, his legs being shorter than his well-built torso. He seemed to appear more formal than Jim, his hair was gelled back and his pale t-shirt tucked into his jeans.
A taller, paler boy trailed behind him. He had dark eyes and his cocoa hair seemed to be thinning. He was skinny, his clothes hanging much looser from his frame than anyone's I'd ever seen before and his complexion wasn't just pale, it was grey and dull like he hadn't been in the sun for years.
Either side of him was the last group, a shorter boy and a boy of the same height. The shortest of the group had black hair and a hooked nose; he too appeared to be much more formal and seemed to care about his looks a little too much. The other boy almost looked related to the first, being stocky and brunette. The two supported the skinny teenager, holding him up by his biceps as they walked closer to Jim and me.
I felt something lightly tap my right arm, snapping me out of the strong gaze I'd previously held on the group of teenage boys. I looked down and diverted my eyes to see that it was Jim handing me my sketchbook.
I took it as I realised the whole group were staring right at me. I felt Jim cup my right tricep as he stood beside me, stepping forward in an almost protective way. I glanced between Jim and the other boys, not knowing if they knew each other or not made me afraid; I knew something could happen to me and I only had one way out if I needed it, I didn't know if Jim had planned this or not either.
I felt intimidated by them, not knowing their intentions made me feel queasy, however, they were practically carrying this boy who looked to be gravely ill.
"This Georgie?" The shortest of them spoke, his lips curving into a soft smile as he supported his much taller friend.
I looked over at Jim who simply nodded at the boy before him. They all nodded in response, smiles coating their faces as they peered over at my smaller form.
"I'm Mickey," The short brunette informed me as he held his hand out towards me. I could see Jim in the corner of my eye; the expression on his face could kill.
I took the boy's hand in my grasp, "You friends of Jim's?" I questioned him, but really my eyes were flicking between each of them, searching for an answer.
He released his hand as he glanced up at Jim who was still aiming a dirty look his way, "He didn't tell you?" Mickey replied as he stepped back beside the other boys.
"Give us a second," Jim spoke up as he pushed me roughly back around a short corner.
I looked around myself to see that we were hidden by a large, dead bush, the plant cracking as the light summer breeze pushed the strands against each other.
"What? Did you tell them that we're best friends or something?" I questioned Jim, my brow furrowing into a heavy frown as I tightly held my sketchbook, leaving dents in it from the amount of pressure I was exerting onto it through my fingertips.
"No, I told them what happened in the therapists waiting room the other day," The blonde replied, the crease between his forehead and bridge of his nose folding as he frowned.
As I looked at his eyes, which I had to fight for as he was refusing to make eye contact with me, I could make out a form of guilt manifesting within them, but also something else, something more sinister.
I felt my face begin to flush a shade of vermillion, the embarrassment from three days ago hitting me once again like a brick wall.
"Y'know what I don't care, I'm gonna head home," I informed him as I stepped backwards away from him.
"W-we're going cliff diving if you want to join us?" Jim quickly grabbed my right arm, pulling me closer to him, but I think he was just trying to stop me from storming off.
I thought about it for a second, "That actually sounds fun," I replied, but my face must've told Jim something completely different.
He frowned, "Then what's the problem?"
The chuckle he let out sent chills straight down my spine, it made me feel a mix of emotions that I simply couldn't understand. I wanted to tell this boy that I've just met him, don't know him or his friends, the fact that he followed me up here too, there were just so many points to make, but I was never good at explaining myself as I've never had to or been given the chance to.
I didn't say anything, but I did do something I thought I'd never do, let alone in from of a group of teenage boys.
I stared at Jim as I unzipped my jeans, slipping off my converse and t-shirt, leaving me in only my underwear. I didn't wait to see his expression change before spinning around and running up to the cliff edge, darting past the other boys who I heard gasp deeply as I threw myself off of the edge.
The feeling was amazing, freeing. The air around me buzzing in my ears as I got closer to my destination, it piercing my skin as I fell through it. The hot sun beat down on my skin, joining the cold air. I closed my eyes right before hitting the cold water below me, instantly regretting taking off my shoes as the water slammed hard against my bare skin.
Right before I hit the surface of the water, I was able to momentarily focus on the boys chattering above me, only being able to make out and "Is she crazy?". To answer that, yes, but that was the great thing about not having a care in the world.
Before I could comprehend what I had just done, I was beneath the surface of the water, the liquid consuming me and shading me from the summer heat.