[JANE POV.]
❝ laugh with me buddy, jest with me buddy, don't ever let her get the best of me buddy, don't ever let me start 'feelin lonely ! ❞
━ CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
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IT HAS been two weeks since the closet incident. and I can't get it out of my head.
the brief moment replays in my mind over and over, and as much as I try to shake it away, all it does is remain in my brain like carvings on a stone wall.
the bright light. the tall silhouette. the look on his face.
it's all too much.
"so, jane, what's your new schedule like?" dustin cuts my thoughts off with his lispy exclamation as both he and will run over to me in excitement. I had recently changed my classes in order to take both AP drawing & painting and sociology, both classes I was actually thoroughly interested in. AP bio was becoming too much of a bad memory since the day of the closet, so I'd decided to drop it. plus, I hated biology with a burning passion, anyways.
I hand the slip of paper to my two friends with a meek smile on my face. they take it with assertion as the two beam at the typed words on the limp piece of paper. and then their faces fall.
"dang it, nothing," will mutters as he grabs the slip from dustin and shoves it back to me.
"yeah, me neither," dustin groans. I frown at the two altruistic boys as I shove the schedule back into my book bag.
"aw, that sucks guys," I groan, "I'm terrible at making new friends."
"doesn't everybody?" will replies as the three of us begin striding down the halls together.
"3 'o clock," dustin suddenly interrupts, diverting the conversation. I peer over at my right to find mike and max walking a few feet away from us, his arm around her shoulder and her own clutching his waist, a smile on both of their faces. will gives an eye roll and dustin reciprocates, the two looking over at me for a glimpse of my own reaction. all I can muster is a sigh and a shrug.
he's different now, I tell myself.
he's not the boy I fell in love with.
why should I care?
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my knee bounced up and down furiously as I gazed up at the big analog clock that hung above the teacher's desk.
tik. tik. tik. tik.
"2:59," I whispered under my breath, as I watched the red hand glide effortlessly around the rounded numbers.
rrriiiiiinnngg! rrriiiiiiiiinnnngg!
I gathered my things as fast as I could and walked out of the classroom door with no time to spare.
since mike and I had stopped talking, school just wasn't something I had been looking forward to anymore.
I used to wake up every morning with a reason. a purpose. a motivation to walk into the tiled halls and by the rows of lockers every day. that purpose was seeing a big toothy smile and a mop of black curls each time I approached the upper stairwell on the east side of the school. but now that purpose was off, probably making out with max mayfield in another broom closet, smoking cigarettes and going to parties as any other teenager would.
he used to not be like any other teenager.
he was mike wheeler.
star wars and lord of the rings fanatic, dog enthusiast, long-limbed dork, av club president-
my best friend.
we used to make fun of any other teenager.
we'd laugh at the way they'd said "like" too much between every few syllables and on quiet afternoons we'd lay together in dustin's living room, staring up at the ceiling fan and wondering how anyone could receive any sort of entertainment or amusement by discussing basketball or parties. we would both get anxious about big groups of people, and he would get nervous thinking about smoking again. we would mimic the slang that they would use and giggle about how boring each word that exited their mouths sounded.
and now-now he was off doing all of the things we swore never to do. the people we swore to never be like.
and somehow, I would have to manage. I would have to manage knowing that the person I had been friends with for all of those years was nothing but a liar- a hypocrite.
I made my way into the quiet and chilly art room on the west side of the school, with the intent to grab my art supplies in order to work on the assignment over the weekend.
art class was something I found myself to be good at, and yet, I hated it. it was a meticulous task that took too long, and it seemed to be a waste of time to spend hours on end applying pigment to a canvas to create something just for a grade. the only person who would see it was the teacher, so why would it matter what you drew or painted? what was the point in taking time to perfect something that wouldn't make a difference in the world?
as I squirted the small tubes of paint onto the plastic palette, preparing it for use over the two days where I wouldn't have to step foot into the building, I was caught off guard by the abrupt sound of loud footsteps that had entered the room.
my eyes perked up to the entrance door.
and there stood mike.
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[MIKE POV.]
JANE STOOD there by the sink counter, a tube of paint encased in her small fingers, hovering over a white palette. her eyes seemed to be stuck to my own.
it was like all the muscles in my body had frozen over, as I found it difficult to move without feeling like a simple click of my joints would shatter my entire body, and I'd descend into the speckled ground in millions of pieces.
but as her eyes hastily diverted back down to her paint, it was like the ice had melted, and I was free once more to have control over the workings of my own body.
I stepped into the room slowly, careful to keep my hands in my pockets and one foot in front of the other coolly. why did I have this urge to impress her? I shook off my nerves with a quick roll of my neck, which made a subtly loud cracking noise, which bothered me as I'd hoped she wouldn't notice my attempt to release the anxiety building up in my bones.
with cat-like reflexes, I glanced over at her once more, only to find her already staring at me. a jolt of panic went straight through my stomach as my eyes skirted away, and back down to the ground. it was almost like a game of cat and mouse: one of us trying to look at the other without the other noticing. and oh how I was losing.
with a steady pace and as relaxed of a gait that I could manage, I strode over towards the ceramics portion of the classroom. ceramics, I thought, what a complete waste of time. yet, I had to take an arts course in order to graduate, and ceramics seemed like the course I'd somehow hate the least. with a deep breath, I began scouring the supplies drawer for the proper materials for my vase assignment. I was shit at pottery, hell, I was shit at everything in that class, but at least a vase was simple enough, right? my eyes flickered left and right across the variety of items that lay in the depths of the drawer, yet my mind was having trouble concentrating on the task at hand with jane directly behind me, still squirting paint out onto the plastic container.
jane. it had been so long since it was just the two of us. alone. together.
in fact, the last time things were like this, I had- no. I couldn't think about that. not anymore. not when I had max. because max and I were happy together, weren't we? she had brought me a whole new group of friends, she had given me popularity, people knew who I was now. she was my first girlfriend, my first-
the sound of a precipitous clatter on the shiny cold ground grabbed me by the ear, stomping on my train of thought.
I hurtled my head around to face the very person that I had attempted to avoid these past few months in order to prevent things from being even more awkward. it was like swimming in air, each breath and each movement seemingly required an all too heavy action in order to glide through the dense and awkward atmosphere that surrounded the two of us. I took a couple effort-filled steps toward the small girl in front of me, as my eyes remained low and on the floor, realizing what had caused the noise.
her paint palette seemed to have slipped over the edge of the counter, the cheap white plastic now cracked in two and the thick glossy dollops of paint she had squirted now bleeding all over the floor. she dropped to her knees slowly- it was almost like they were furiously buckling and unbuckling as they shook every so slightly- and took the two plastic pieces into her now stained hands, the residue of some of the pigment attaching themselves to her skin.
"here, stop touching that," I muttered, grabbing a couple paper towels from the roll that sat on the drawer counter behind me. I, too, dropped to my knees in front of her, taking her hands hastily into mine and rubbing the towels over each affected finger, in an attempt to pick up as much of the color as possible. my eyes quickly glanced up to her face, and to my surprise, she was yet again looking straight at me, her reaction being of both shock and uncertainty. her lips had parted and her eyes were sincere- yet confused. all I could do was crack a small grin as the sides of my mouth upturned ever so slightly. why did I feel so...happy?
I finished cleaning off her hands and began picking up the broken pieces of plastic that stood between us. she watched with furrowed brows as I did this, careful to not let the remaining dollops of paint spill onto the ground.
being in such close proximity again was a feeling I didn't know what to coin. . . breathtaking? terrifying? awkward?
my mind raced with such questions as I continued to bring the shattered pieces of cheap plastic over to the garbage can, dropping them in with a loud thud. it truly was like swimming in air around her, as every move I made was like attempting to move in a thick consistency like honey. that was the feeling. and I'd decided awkward was the best way to describe it.
I turned around once again and saw she was already using the extra paper towels to clean up the fallen paint that had bled onto the floor. I made a sudden move to walk over to help her when sharp words instantaneously cut me off;
"I got it," she declared coldly.
my brows raised in surprise at her fierce tone. despite her protest, I stooped down to help her anyway.
"I'm just trying to help," I reasoned whilst soaking up some of the slimy colors with my own paper towel clutched in hand.
"you've really done enough."
her voice rang of that all too familiar slight tremble that I recognized as when she would try to act headstrong or confident, but her nerves would fail her effortlessly. I smirked at this, knowing that my knowledge of her as a person was too deep, and that she couldn't get anything past me- even when we hadn't spoken in almost half a year now.
"yet you're letting me help anyways," I nudged, causing her face to flush. it was too easy.
"well, I can't stop you, can I?" she shot back quickly, on account that speaking faster usually prevented her voice from shaking.
"guess you can't."
I forgot how much I missed our banter. how much I missed the sarcastic remarks and the back and forth, even through the thick consistency of the awkward atmosphere, it still felt like old times.
we finished mopping up the paint with our paper towels, both the tension and our breaths heavy. something about it made me excited, like the process was similar to hiking up the steep incline of a rollercoaster before reaching the top.
"well, thanks," she muttered, just loud enough for me to hear as we got up from the floor and tossed our now color splattered towels.
"yeah," I breathed back, rolling up my sleeves to wash my hands from the splotches of paint that stuck to my palms.
the cold water ran onto my rough skin and I watched as the paint slowly peeled away under the pressure. out of the corner of my eye, I spied jane rummaging through a cabinet to obtain a new plastic palette. the silence had entered the chilly room once more.
with my attention diverted, I hadn't noticed the sink faucet had begun spraying upwards at the edges instead of its usual downwards course, and before I knew it, a cold blast of water erupted in my face and all over the front of my shirt. I let out a yelp as I attempted to shut off the sink through the splatters entering my eyes, and with my hands blocking the attack, I finally managed to switch it off.
I shook off my wet curls with one jerk of my head, almost like a dog, and tugged at my wet shirt to examine the mess. I hadn't even noticed jane standing there a few feet away, clutching her stomach and laughing.
I looked up to her in confusion. "what's so funny?" I asked her, droplets of water still hanging onto the edges of my jaw and chin.
"nothing," she breathed between sharp exhales of giggles.
a small smile formed on my face at seeing her so happy in my presence. it had been a while. I began kind of chuckling myself as I wiped my face with one of the left over paper towels, shaking my head in amusement.
I flung my backpack back onto my right shoulder and grinned, a muffled laugh still exiting jane's lips from behind her hand. her eyes met mine and I smiled. maybe the first genuine smile I'd given in a while.
I left the art room feeling...content.
I decided that the vase assignment wasn't something to worry too much about. but I had also decided that maybe I'd like ceramics. after all, it took place in the same art room as AP art-whatever.
and perhaps I'd see her after school again.
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hi this chapter was very filler and I don't like it but at least they're getting somewhere, right? I'll probably make a "get to know the author" thing for the next chapter in this or maybe just a book itself for it so it doesn't disrupt this book but we'll see. since you guys said to keep the story realistic idk if you'll want a happy ending or not so let me know since the book title itself (I put the definition up on the cast/intro) pretty much spells out the story. this chapter half happened in real life but not as positive as I made it out to be lol it was just awkward.
happy 2019 btw!! I really love this community and hope I spend many more years to come with you all.
I also only got 3 answers on my questionnaire so if you didn't answer yet: should I just publish my new book (fillie au) and update alongside this one or complete this one first and then start my new book? if I were to do both at once updates would be slower.
anyways, thanks for #2 in #milliebobbybrown and for all of the votes, comments, and follows! much love to those who aren't ghost readers 👀👀
I'll update weekly starting from now!! see you then—
-sonorabee