Hey everybody :3
You have no idea how terrible i feel 'cause i'm just terrible at updating :( I hope you're not mad haha. I put a lot of thought into this chapter. it kinda sets a lot of stuff up :) (ooooh suspense! o.o) yes haha :)
anywayyyy, hope you guys had a good weekend and have a tremendous Monday tomorrow :D Oh! The picture is obviously of James, 'cause he's so fricking adorable!!! (and maybe because he's a main character in this book...) x3 and the song is Good Girl by Carrie Underwood because I LOVE HER & 'cause it kinda goes with this, if you think about it from Colette's PoV with Mark :P sooo yeah!
Enjoy :) <3
{James’ PoV}
My head’s still pounding, arm still throbbing, stomach still churning. The bright lights just pour into my heavy irises, just begging for some silence in a dark room. Questions keep running in and out of my mind, keeping me awake, driving me absolutely insane…
All the yelling, crying, screaming, voices, blood, doctors and cries of relief are flooding over the hospital 24/7. Seriously, it’s frickin’ 2 in the morning. You’d think it’d be at least a bit quieter, but no, it seems even livelier than it is in daylight.
I groan, the pain meds are finally wearing off. Now I have to deal with the excruciating pain of my wounds on top of the disbelief piled in my stubborn heart…I wish there was a way to relieve this hurt, this confusion. There’s just too much going on…or I should say went on.
That huge fight with Mark…A huge shiver runs up from my tailbone, this chilled hand slowly, but forcefully pressing up my spine, reaching my neck with insufferably icy fingers.
Where the hell is my sister?
Where the fuck is my Colette?
Where is anybody I actually care about?
“Shit…” I mutter aloud, and then repeat it even louder. “Shit!”
My eyes can’t see anything through a massive fog that’s entered the room. Why is the room moving?...what the HELL is wrong with me? What the FUCK is going on?
Warm, sweet blackness floods into my conscious, making my eyes flutter shut. Finally. Peace.
{Colette’s PoV}
Poor, poor James…I can’t believe he beat Mark up…and save me. Me. He risked his own life for mine…well this’ll take some time to get used to: people actually do care about me. A small smile curves onto my lips, but only for a second before reality sets in.
Mark is out there somewhere, still on this psychotic mission of trying to convince me to love him again, after all the trust he broke. James is in the hospital, with a broken arm (in 3 spots), bruised ribs, and a concussion…but he’s got my heart “slowly” plummeting toward him, craving for my brain to just let me trust the guy who literally just saved my life. And then there’s…Kat. Wait…the last time I saw her was when she went over to Dakota’s place…and that was hours ago, technically yesterday. She’s gone…but how? Is she at Dak’s…?
I sigh; a heavy, dark sliver of a breath escaping into the chaotic air of the emergency room’s waiting area. I’m just another person among the hundreds of people in this building alone…and only one of the people in here knows (part) of my story…geez. I’ve never felt this kind of…adoration for anybody before. Constantly thinking of James, no matter what’s happening, my heart skips beats just thinking of him (it ties itself up with my throat every time he’s around), I want his approval, I want him with me 24/7, and I just want him in general. Is that bad…? I sure hope not.
Shit shit shit shit shit. I have to find Kat…what if…what if she’s…no. She isn’t.
My fingers are trembling as dial Dak’s number into my phone, only hearing the dial tone colliding with my thrashing heartbeat. One ring…thump…two rings…thump thump…three rings…thump thump thump…four rings…thump thump thump th—
“Hello…?” Dak’s low, bass voice questions out, obviously not remembering my number.
“I—it’s Colette, Kat’s best friend…uhm, so I was just wondering…is Kat still with you?”
“Oh, hey Colette. And, naw, she left like at 10…” his voice fades off, mumbling groggily, “wait…why are you asking anyway? Isn’t she with you?”
“No…she never made it back to the house. She was warning me that my crazy ex was in the ‘hood and then she randomly hung up…I haven’t heard from her since…Dakota, I’m really worried that something’s happened to her. Like, really bad. I have that feeling in the pit of my stomach…I…” my voice cracks. I let those unfinished, gloomy words hang in the cold, stolid room.
“Oh…uhm…have ya tried calling her?” a huge gulp trickles down his throat, fear evading his complete soul from one sentence I muttered. Just by one word, just one word and his whole demeanor has changed. Just one word and his whole night, his whole life has flipped a one-eighty. By one single word…
“I—yes, I have. She-she didn’t pick up. And James is in the hospital and I have no idea what the hell is going on anymore…” I force, drag my eyes up the wall, demanding them to stare up at the ceiling, pretending that these tears aren’t really falling. That this isn’t really my life. That I’m just an actor in a movie, acting in this position of a teenage girl, a damsel in distress, who screwed up her whole life by one decision, and I’m just gonna wake up any second and be put into whatever my real life truly is. This is fake. This isn’t reality. It’s just a TV show, just another chapter in a book. Nothing’s real. Nothing that happens is true…it’s just part of the script I never got. And I just have to keep ad-libbing it through until my eyes finally open from their deep slumber.
“Oh, Colette…just breathe. I’ll find her. You need to sleep er something. Take a time out er something, ‘kay? Let ya know with wh-whatever happens with Kat ASAP.” His voice is waterlogged with despair, trapped in a low, dark, heartbreaking tone. His heart’s strength is being tested; with each second he has to wait to see her, his heartstrings slowly being torn apart.
Am I seriously that stupid??
“Dakota!” I suddenly shout, my puzzled brain finally put the obvious pieces together. “It—It’s Mark, my ex. He did it! It’s so obvious….he’s trying to get the Maslow’s out of the way so then he’ll be able to just get me to go back to him ‘cause nobody’ll be left to protect me. That’s it…I swear. Okay, if you wanna find Kat…look toward the bridge by her house. I bet you that’s where she is…”
“Omigod,” he breathes out, all this built up tension slowly melting away into a bittersweet relief. “Thank you so much…I gotta go out there. Talk to you soon.”
Why do I feel like that this was the easiest task he is gonna make me deal with…?
This is just a little game in his head, toying with people’s emotions, even their lives. He’s dancing on fire right about now. Oh, he doesn’t even feel the flames ‘cause that’s what he was brought up on: embers and coal, while the rest of us grew up on ashes and grass. We know not to get too close to the fire or else we’ll get scorched and burnt. However, since he grew up on in the bonfire pit, he has the rock hard calluses built up on his blackened feet. Oh no, he doesn’t feel the heat while we all can even smell how ravenous those flames are…
(A few hours later, 9 AM)
My feet are up before my brain can fully process what’s exactly going on. But, man, does my heart realize exactly what’s going on. Butterflies crawling up and down me, whispering their flower wings against my walloping heart.
Visiting hours just started.
I rush into James’ room, relieved to see him alive and a smile reveals itself when my eyes hook onto his, knowing he’s awake. His hazel eyes so gooey and mesmerizing…I fall into their little trap every time, hidden in sweet coffee and vibrant ivy.
“Col?” his velvet voice breaks into my heart, causing the butterflies to flutter faster, more rapidly. A smile touches his lips, his eyes lively with a certain sparkle in them when I say, “Yes?”
“I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”
He laughs softly, “Well, maybe. But I was more concerned about you than me while I was sitting here all night…to be honest, I—I thought that Mark would show up here and…and steal you away and that I could do nothing about it ‘cause I’m injured…” a light blush falls onto his cheeks as an embarrassed smile curves onto his lips. Him, embarrassed? Well that’s a first…oh. That’s why he’s embarrassed. The true meaning of his words finally slips into my heart, making me grin. He cares, he truly does love me. He wasn’t lying…he never will.
“Aww, James. I’m okay, I promise. It’s…it’s actually you’re sister I’m really worried about.”
All the sudden, all the color and emotion drain out of his face, leaving him lifeless, unresponsive, “…Do I wanna know?”
“Well, Dakota found her. She’s actually not in that bad of a condition, physically. A few cuts and bruises. Nothing horrible. She’s kinda just a bit shaken up. I don’t blame her; it’s a lot to take in with-in a couple days…” I sigh. This isn’t reality. Nothing is really the way it is. It’s all just a huge nightmare and I’m going to open my eyes any second now and I’ll be able to see reality for the first time through white eyes instead of trying to see through this dense cloud.
He sighs, too, “Come here. You need a hug.”
I walk over to him and my eyes suddenly feel heavy and saggy, as if salt’s burning my eyelids raw. I bury my face into James’ chest before he can tell I’m silently sobbing, silently wishing that I never came to the Maslow’s because they don’t deserve the pain I’m bringing them…
After a few broken seconds, James’ voice cracks out, sadly, “I hope you know you’re bad at pretending you’re not crying…y’know, it’s okay to cry. It’s not gonna make the world explode if you actually give yourself a moment to recompose. You deserve it.” His hand rubs my back in soft circles, silently urging me to keep crying, to keep pouring all the trapped emotions in my heart finally crawl out, breathing heavily ‘cause they thought they would never see daylight again.
Through a haze of sobs, a discouraging meltdown, a major realization spikes my heart: people know how to forgive what you’ve done in the past and accept you for the way you are, right now. Not back then. “It’s okay, Col…It’s all right now, I promise…I got you now…”
{James’ PoV}
Why am I so damn curious into knowing everything about this mysterious girl?
Ever since she started staining my shirt with her desperate, confused tears, this anxious craving to know who she truly is has worsened to so intense I can hardly handle being right next to her. I wanna know everything. Who her parents are. How many siblings she has. What she did with Kat that they always made be so secretive. If she ever thought I had cooties. What instrument she plays. What she wants her purpose in life to be. How she feels about me. What bands she loves. How many heartbreaks she’s had. Whom I need to beat up for hurting her poor soul. Her favorite color. How she feels about Kendall. What really happened with Mark and her. How he dragged her away from everybody here. If she still horseback rides. If she's cut before. How sad she truly is. How happy she is now that she’s away from that hell. If she’s still as soft-spoken as she’s always been. How she thought of me when we were younger. If she’d want to go with the guys and me on tour. What she’d do if I kissed her right now ‘cause she’s just begging me to, I swear…
“Col, look at me, sweetheart.” Her broken, churning eyes of ebony and crystal. So innocent, so confused; she’s completely terrified by real life ‘cause she has no idea what real life is because of him. I hold her closer and gently wipe away her dwindling tears, trying to ease the heartbreak with every stroke. She smiles a small, petite smile. A half-hearted smile, trying to prove to herself that she’s strong by just pretending that nothing’s wrong…but she doesn’t know that she’s already proven to everybody how strong she truly is by escaping from a fate we all thought was clouding her…because of him.
She honestly has no idea that spilling hundreds of tears into me is so much stronger than running around with a plastered smile fitted onto her devastated, beautiful face.
I lean my face down, our forehead resting together. Her eyes swiftly fill up with color: aquamarine, jade, apple, periwinkle, sky, light sapphire, emerald. They open up fully, like she finally just comprehended that this is her life and it’s not that bad once she stops kicking herself for what’s already happened. She simply doesn’t realize that she’s the only one making her past such a disgrace when we’ve forgiven her weakened, beautiful soul. She’s just in a little rut. And that’s why I’m here: to show her that I’m all hers, I’m never going to leave. I’m going to help her by proving to her being sensitive is better than pretending everything. Reality isn’t so bad. She just needs to realize where she’s been for the past year wasn’t, isn’t, reality. That’s just pure hell. So really, reality is the light when she thinks it’s the flickering lamp that’s betrayed her…
Our lips touch gently, her sweet lips happily taking this kiss. Hanging onto me like I’m the last thing left floating in this empty ocean, I keep kissing her, trying to show her you have to be sensitive to feel this feeling of love.