I made it home safe and sound.
I went to my room and changed into something more comfortable which was, sweatpants and a tank top. Since my makeup was ruined by the crying I did earlier I decided to take it off.
Three Netflix movies later and school was let out already. I paused the movie that I started and thought of a good idea. To get rid of everything Brett gave me.
I went to my jewelry box and got out all the jewelry he ever gave me. I didn't care how beautiful everything was, I was not keeping it. Then I went to my closet and got out all the dresses he ever bought me which was all he bought me, were dresses.
I piled the three dresses on my bed and put the jewelry on top of it. I wasn't gonna give everything back to him, it was no use to him. I think I might sell them on Ebay.
I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my front door.
I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion. I went downstairs and opened it.
It was Grant.
My eyebrows raised. "Oh, Grant, what are you doing here?"
He seemed nervous. "I'm sorry, is this weird? I just came because, I don't know, you might need someone right now and now that I think about it that person's probably not me so, I'm just gonna..." he started to walk away, awkwardly rubbing his shoulder.
I called his name and my heart ached at how he decided to come check on me. "Grant, wait!"
He turned around. "Yeah?"
I opened the door for him to come in. A smile slowly stretched on his face and he practically ran back to my house. I closed the door when he made it inside.
We both stood there in my living room, silently.
He cleared his throat. "I came over to make sure you were really okay."
I chuckled, slightly, looking down and then back up at him. "I keep telling you, yes, I'm fine."
He moves over to sit on the couch and he pats the spot next to him. I slowly walk over and sit down.
He looks into my eyes, unblinking and says, "I want you to tell me what happened. Why were you in the janitors closet?"
"I never thought you were the one for drama." I say, jokingly trying to lighten the mood.
He grabs my hand and it takes me by surprise. "Julianne."
"Okay," I say, actually trying to focus on the story other than the way his hands felt holding mine. "I got to school and I saw Brett. He asked to talk so, I said yes. We started to argue about the situation and I told him that we were over and-and then he grabbed me and tried to get me to talk to him more but I made it clear that I didn't want to be together anymore. So, he had a really tight grip on my wrist but I got loose and started running and he started to chase me. So, then I found the janitors closet and hid in there until he was gone."
I let out a breath after finishing the story. Grant looked down at my wrist and he frowned at it, rubbing his fingers along it. The way he used such a gentle touch, touching me like I was porcelain glass, made shivers go through my body.
He had deep creases in his forehead. "Julianne, he left a bruise."
I looked down at it, not realizing that he left a bruise. It wasn't that noticeable but if you look really close you can tell. It was light purple of his fingerprints. I didn't even notice because it didn't hurt.
He briefly looked up at me. "Does it hurt?"
I shook my head. "No."
He pressed down on it and that's when it started to hurt. I clenched my teeth together and he stopped once he realized he was hurting me. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
I shook my head. "It's fine."
He let go of my hand and for some reason I felt disappointed. "You need to put ice on it. Come on."
He grabs my hand again, pulling me up from the couch. He pulls me into the kitchen and sets me down on a chair. He goes to the fridge and gets out some frozen vegetables. He comes next to me and lifts my wrist sitting it on the table and places the frozens on my wrist, gently.
"That asshole." Grant mumbles.
I stay quiet for a few seconds before deciding to speak. "You know, this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
He sheepishly looks down and then looks back up with a tint of pink on his cheeks. "I'm happy to know that."
I bring one knee up to my chest, putting my chin down on it. "What made you change your mind about me? Because I know you didn't like me at first."
He tilted his head. "What makes you think I do now?"
I raised one eyebrow and then looked at my wrist and then back at him.
He raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, you caught me." he shrugged, fiddling with his fingers. "Maybe, it's the fact that you're nothing like what I expected."
"And what did you expect?"
"Someone stuck-up, someone that only cares about herself, someone that only cared about the latest drama going around." he said, bluntly.
I swallowed, hearing all those things he used think of me. "What about now? What do you think of me now?"
He grabbed my hand that wasn't on the table and I sucked in a breath of air, waiting for him to speak. "Now, I think you're not stuck-up, that you don't only care about yourself and the drama around you. You have ambition and you're trying to do better because you actually took the effort to get a tutor to help you and that's all that matters to me, Julianne."
I smiled, squeezing his hand. "You are just the sweetest guy today, aren't you?"
He chuckled. "Well, I meant every word I said."
I stood up, the frozens falling from my wrist and tugged at his hand. "C'mon, let's go to my room. I have a movie paused."
He stood up and I didn't know if I should let go of his hand or not. But sadly, he let go of my hand leaving me confused on why I was disappointed.
I opened my door and saw the stuff on my bed that I was going to get rid of. I hurriedly went towards it picking up.
He raised his eyebrows at me. "Rearranging things?"
I shook my head and threw everything in the closet. "No, just getting rid of things."
He nodded in understanding because what would I be really needing to get rid of? Everything 'the ex' gave me. Yeah, that's what I'm calling him, 'the ex.'
I hop on my bed next to Grant and we both have our backs on the backboard. We were watching 13 going on 30 because that's what I was watching before I paused it. It was at the part where she was walking out into the streets with her pajamas on when suddenly I hear Grant quoting the movie under his breath.
I look over at him in surprise. "You've seen this movie?"
He looks over and does a double-take, surprised that I heard him. "Well, yeah, I have a thirteen year old sister that loves this movie and she makes me watch it with her all the time."
I snicker. "Yeah, right. You know you secretly love romance movies. Aww, is wittle Gwant a hope-wess womantic?"
I talk in a baby voice and then reach over to pinch his cheeks but he slaps my hand away.
"No, stop, I'm serious. She loves this movie."
"Okay, what's her name?"
"Emily."
"What's her favorite song?"
"When we were young by Adele."
"Favorite book?"
"The Fault in our Stars."
I narrowed my eyes. "Favorite color?"
He gives me a satisfied look. "Pink. She would be so proud of me right now."
I blew out a breath. "Huh, so your sister's the hopeless romantic."
He nods. "Yep, she's into all that lovey-dovey crap."
"Wait, you said she would be proud of you?"
He runs his fingers through his hair and it falls back to place. "Yeah, she thinks I know nothing about her because she's thirteen and she's going through that phase where she thinks no one cares about her." He waves his hand, dismissively. "But she'll get over it, I went through that phase too."
I laugh. "So it runs in the family?"
He frowns. "No, I don't think so. You haven't gone through that phase? You know, when you think the world is against you?"
I shake my head. "No, I don't think I have."
He gives me an unbelieving look. "You're not normal. Everyone goes through that phase."
I point to myself. "Obviously not everyone."
He waves me off. "You're not apart of everyone."
"Oh? Then what am I apart of then?"
"Not everyone." he says, simply.
I push his shoulder. "Whatever."
Suddenly, he leans closer to me and I back up with wide eyes. "Uh.."
"You have freckles?" He says with scrunched eyebrows.
I slowly nod. "Yes."
"Huh," he says, backing up. "I never noticed."
I shrugged. "Probably because I always wear makeup over it."
He gives me a curious look. "Why?"
I shrug again. "I don't know. I just do."
"Mmm,"
The movie that's being played fills the silence that fell upon us. After a few seconds he says,
"Well, I like your freckles."
A/N:
The picture is her without makeup.
Comment, my babies, tell me what you think.