Not the best chapter because I'm in school now, and I have to write on my free time only.
Songs of the chapter-
• Have You Ever - Brandy Norwood
• Hate that I Love You - Rihanna ft. Ne-Yo
• Tonight - John Legend
• One - Ed Sheeran
• All of Me - John Legend
• Half a Heart - One Direction
• Say Something - A Great Big World
_________
41: Spilled Mess
*
Point of View: Marian Lara Estrada
*
I hung up on Skype immediately, not prepared to talk to either of them. I saw the worried expression on Jayce's face as soon as he gazed onto the screen, and right as I did hang up, my laptop blasts with calls from him. My hand is on my heart, my lungs suffocating - gasping for air as of now. The way Jake had spoke to me - it was out of the ordinary: I've never seen him this angered; I've never seen him like this at all. He isn't perfect, and I'm definitely not as well, but it hurts. I can't remove the pain inside my chest - it won't stop scratching my insides - wanting me to something, but I just can't. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to erase everything that just happened as if it were just a dream.
But I can't.
I stand from my bed, walking towards my drawer. I grab the stack of envelopes wrapped up all together, returning back into my seat. I slide my finger through the sealed corner, ripping the first envelope open. I pull out the paper inside, my tears falling down already as soon as I straighten the edges.
The heading is largely written on top:
Number One out of One Hundred
I feel a pang of hurt, knowing he wrote this because he loves me. Or loved, but I continue on reading the letter.
Hey Lara aka babe aka sweetheart aka my love,
This is my first letter I'm making to you. I'm not actually sending them out with a stamp; I'm sending this with your auntie's package - I hope you're fine with that. Anyways, please excuse my penmanship - I'm not an artist like you ;)
Reason 1 on why I love you -
I love that even when I am not near you, you're constantly on my mind. When I'm at work, you take over my mind in an instant. It's crazy what you make me do. I'll be reciting my line in front of everyone, and out of nowhere, I'll blank out - smiling like an idiot as I remember our time at the beach for one of the video shoots. I honestly can't get over the fact that I'm the luckiest guy in the world. You make me so happy: you're beautiful, loving, and the heart you carry inside of you is one of the kind. You're so patient with me, and I can't get over it. I don't want to make this letter too long, or else I won't have anything else to write for the next 99 - oh wait, that's impossible... I can write endless things about you. Don't forget I love you so so much.
Sincerely,
Jake.
Beneath the letter, a photo is attached to the bottom of him carrying me to the beach water, our smiles larger than ever. I remember that day as if it's a distant memory - the emotions still inside of me. He told me to open these letters whenever I needed a reminder of his love, but right now... A question roams my mind.
Does he still love me?
I continue grabbing envelopes one after another - convincing myself that this will help remind me how much he loves me, but with each one I read, my heart feels weaker and weaker. It reminds me of what he told me earlier through the laptop.
Number Nine out of One Hundred
Hey there beautiful,
You know who's the most perfect girlfriend I ever had? Read the first word in this paragraph - that's right, YOU! You're gorgeous, magnificent, beautiful - hell, I have to go look at a thesaurus in order to figure out any other names to call you. I'm so lucky to have a wonderful girl like you. You don't see what I see... You think you're not perfect, but to me - the flaws you see are what makes you perfect. I love how you try covering your mouth as you laugh, or run your hand through your hair - thinking something is wrong when in reality, it's like you just came out of the hair parlor. Every single day.
But there's more to your physical features... You're beautiful - inside and out.
You're caring.
Loving.
Sympathetic.
Kindhearted.
And you're always here for me.
My heart begins to crack even more at his description. I'm such a horrible girlfriend. I couldn't even make these small things for him like he has. I don't deserve a guy like him. I don't deserve anyone at all; why did he even like me in the beginning when the things he had written in ink are all lies. I'm not beautiful. I'm not loving. I'm not kindhearted. He told me himself - he thinks I don't love him. How am I able to prove that when he won't even listen to me? How will anything work if he thinks I don't care. All of these words written - they're all lies.
Lies.
Lies that made him think he loved me when in reality, I wasted his time. I'm not worth it. Instead of finishing the letter, I fold it up, placing it wi?g the rest inside the drawer. I don't deserve him.
I don't deserve love.
I don't deserve anything.
Ever.
*****
Two days have gone by - two days of nothing but my phone constantly ringing and dying. I had to explain to Jayce why I hung up on him. I told him me and my boyfriend are having some troubles as of now, and he didn't ask any questions - he was just there for me. He quickly changed the subject - knowing it was hard for me to speak about it. Instead he spoke about how his brother and father wanting to meet me, and I'm invited to their thanksgiving dinner; he told me that he loves spending time with his family, but they want a change in ritual sometimes. So, I told him I would think about it, and by that, I really meant I had to check my parents' work schedules and ask my mother for permission. There's a high chance I'll be able to go: my parents never take a break from work. In addition to that, my mother thinks Jayce is the perfect child by her first impression, and as she screamed at me a few days ago, he came into context due to how sweet and wonderful he is. That, and when Jayce told her about his father's job, she's been asking my father about that profession and the salary it makes.
However, little did she know I don't like Jayce like that. Even if Jake doesn't think I love him, I do, and that'll never ever change. I don't even understand what we are right now... I want to call him, but at the same time, I'm scared. My heart shatters every time he's on my mind, my brain begins to drown everything that I'm suppose to be thinking about, and life - it feels like it has stopped. Everything has dragged on around me, and I can't do anything about it.
It is now October 15, 2014.
Our four month anniversary. We haven't talked to each other for two days. My phone is listed with many missed calls and text messages from him, but I cannot answer them.
I'm frightened - and that's an understatement.
I can't take anymore screaming at this moment. It just hurts so much that I can't even look at my phone anymore. It's been either off or on vibrate, but it's deep inside my backpack, so I won't hear it at all. "Lara, we have reagents duty; do you want to make the chemistry lab solutions later at lunch, or after school?" Jayce asks me as we walk to our next class period. Being with him, it kind of softened the pain, but I still feel it. He's a distraction that doesn't leave me. "We can do it after school, so no one can bother us, and we'll have more time," my arms are wrapped against my binder, holding it firmly to my chest.
"Alright. That makes sense," he smiles, "Did you finish the paper we have to make for English?" He asks as he opens up his binder as we continue to walk. "Yea, it was pretty easy to make," I shrug my shoulders, dodging the tall guys blocking the middle of the hallway. It is high school; they should understand that some people need to get to class. Jayce ushers our way through the men due to his tallness, and we slip inside our classroom. He quickly pulls out his essay from his backpack as I also do so, placing it our papers on top of the hands of Mrs. Hemmings. Then, we take our seats in the middle row, sitting right next to each other.
"You think Mrs. Hemmings is gonna talk about the book today?" Jayce whispers softly, leaning towards my ear. I look in the direction of our teacher, a frown on her face as she looks down at everyone's papers in her arms. "I bet she will. She's going to make us over-analyze the book even more because she likes extracting the pain it creates," I rest my cheek on my hand, feeling tired from the lack of sleep I had for the last few nights.
"Don't worry. It won't be that bad," he elbows my arm jokingly, "The class will be over sooner than you think." "I hope you're right," I shrug, earning another comforting grin from him. As the last bell rings, Mrs. Hemmings locks the door, identifying that class has started. For about an hour and a half, she speaks about the imagery and symbolism of the book we're reading, and it is agonizingly boring. The class drags on, and soon enough, we go to lunch, then our fifth and sixth periods.
As the last bell rings, I rush towards my locker, placing my book bag and textbook inside. As I shut my locker, Jayce's back leans against the locker next to mine, a smile still on his face. "You dress up too quickly," he chuckles out knowing that as soon as gym is over, I am out of my workout attire faster than everyone else.
"Well, we do have to make the solutions," I remind him as we walk towards the direction of the science hallway. He shakes his head, "You're crazy, Lara." I feel my heart beat alter as I hear his words, being reminded by the time me and Jake playing around at his home.
"You're crazy; you look gorgeous," he releases me from his arm, and I sit up on his lap, letting us take different photos. After endless clicks of my phone, I take it back and look at him, "You're crazy."
"Crazy for you," he winks. I shake my head, humor and lighthearted joy encompassing my body. I place my phone on his nightstand and flip the blanket over both of us. My body comes closer to his, and as I position myself, he dims the light.
"Whatever, Jayce," I bump my shoulder against his side, but it does nothing to him, but he still rubs his hand against his other arm, "Ouch, Lara. I guess weight training has improved your skills on hurting people," he sticks out his tongue, and I feel the sarcasm running in his voice. "Jayce, you're an ass," I nonchalantly state, him knowing that I'm joking around. "Whatever, Lara," he rolls his eyes, "Now let's go to chemistry before Mr. Bradford leaves."
I nod, pulling out my phone from my pocket. I instantly click on the Instagram app as soon as I unlock it, continuing to walk side by side with Jayce. I scroll down my newsfeed, tapping the screen to like the photos popping up; however, I stop on one photo.
My eyes widen in dismay as I see it right before me. I quickly lock my phone, not wanting to bring any memories inside my mind right now.
I can't do this right now.
I'm not ready.
*****
*
Point of View: Jacob Christopher Camareno
*
"I'm going to get more of the element in storage room seven," she places her stirring rod on the lab table's tray, jumping off the high chair and leaving me alone in the lab. "Alright," I continue to stir the three reagents I'm making for our next lab assignment, because if it is ruined, both Lara and I will get blamed - making us receive an F for the specific assignment. The silence quickly takes over, no one in the room except for me since Mr. Bradford has a meeting in the principal's office for next year's curriculum. We're not suppose to be in the lab without an instructor, but our teacher thinks we can handle everything by ourselves.
A few minutes go by, and Lara still hasn't come back. I turn off the gas for the Bunsen burner and unplug the balances, knowing if I don't, both Mr. Bradford and Lara will kill me. Safety is their main priority, and it's scary how serious they both are when everyone in the class is in the laboratory. I walk towards the storage room door which leads into the chemicals closet - in search for Lara. As I enter, I hear the sound of running water, and I walk towards the chemicals closet.
Right when I open the door, I see Lara tippy-toeing to reach for the acid we need to use, struggling due to her height. I stand right behind her, grabbing it with both hands right away. She turns around in surprise, backing up against the cabinet, but before it can tip over, I place the jar of acid on the table in the cramped room and hold the cabinet with both arms.
"Oh my god, Jayce. You scared me," her hand is to her chest as she looks up at me. "Sorry," I take a quick breath before speaking again since the chemicals in the cabinet could have killed both of us if they had crashed down to the floor mixing with each other, "You were taking too long, so I thought I would check up on you." My arms are still on either side of her, holding the cabinet, entrapping her with my body. "Sorry," she pushes out a smile slightly, "I was struggling," the awkwardness in her voice notifies me that I should let go, but for a moment, I keep my eyes connected with her brown ones, the clarity and detail like nothing I have ever seen before. Then, I shake my thoughts out, speaking to her, "I noticed," I quickly remove my arms, not wanting her to feel claustrophobic inside this confined space, "Next time, tell me you need help, okay? I don't want you hurting yourself with these liquids. They're dangerous."
"I know they're dangerous, but -"
"No but's," I directly look at her before grabbing the jar. As I take it, Lara turns around to lock the cabinet, and walks towards the door to let me out. The liquid we are using is very concentrated, making me extra careful because if a splash gets onto anything on our body, it can burn - leading us to the emergency room in an instant.
We walk in silence inside the small hallway to the laboratory, and as we return to our station, I place the jar of the transparent liquid on the black table. Immediately, we work on our solutions once again; Lara twists the cap of the jar, pouring out the liquid into the beaker before using the magnetic stirrer to combine with the other solutions to form the molarity needed. As we patiently wait, we begin writing inside our lab books, doing our mandatory observations. I look at Lara vigorously jotting down notes as her eyes are affixed with the color-changing liquid: her tongue is sticking out slightly, showing her focus and determination to finish and paying no attention to me.
I look down at my notebook, seeing that I have finished to the time given in the instructions. I turn off all the electronic gadgets in our station that I had used, now only waiting for Lara. She sighs in frustration, tapping her pencil on the table as she thinks of the answer.
"Lara, do you need help?" I get out of my seat across from her, now hovering behind her back. She doesn't answer, and in an instant, her body language changes - Lara only stares at her book blankly now as if she is in her own little world. I tip my head towards her face this time, seeing that her eyes are expressionless. The determination has disappeared from her face almost immediately.
"Lara," I wave my hand in front of her - trying to get her out of her trance, "Lara, are you okay?"
By instinct, her head shoots up while her pencil slips from her hand, and her arm tips the small beaker of acid. She shakes her head right away before meeting my eyes, "Lara, is there something wrong?" I take a step back, giving her adequate space to breathe. I take notice of the substance spreading onto the table and floor, but her reaction is more important to me. Her chest rises heavily, as if she is gasping for air. Her hand firmly holds onto the table, and she still doesn't speak to me. "L-Lara, can you speak? I'm right here," I gently whisper, not knowing what is going on. I glance at the liquid slipping onto the ground, fearful of the burns that it can cause if she makes a wrong step. Her eyes - the bright brown I've gotten use to - are dull, darkened to the point that you can read exhaustion all over her expression. She doesn't tell me anything about her life; I want to help her, but she keeps it all inside of her. I take one step closer, shutting off the electronic appliances she was using, but not separating my eyes from her. Her dark stoney eyes are affixed with mine, and I'm honestly unsure of what I'm doing.
"Jayce," her voice is soft, "I can't do anything right." She looks at her notebook, and I notice the scribbles of numbers and equations she's been trying to use to figure out the problem. "I'm so stupid, Jayce. I'm not good enough," her voice, barely a whisper, is breaking, and I see a tear escape her cheek. I don't know what to say as of now. I do not know how this just occurred, so instead I rub her back, hushing her in a soft tone. "I can't do anything right," she shakes her head, then in a violent manner, removes my arm from her. "I don't deserve anything," she angrily whispers, "I can't - I can't do this." Her hand is about to glide against the acid present on the table, but I do not let her throw herself away just like that. I can't take the fact she is destroying herself, and she can't speak the words trapped inside her heart. With one swift movement, I wrap my arms around her from behind, and her tears escape immediately, "Jayce, please - please let go of me. I'm not worth this." "You are worth more than you think, Lara. Never say you're nothing because you are worth more than the most precious stones known to man," I state, not going above a whisper as she silently holds on to me. "And who would those people be?" Bitterness and incredulity laced inside her throat.
"Your boyfriend," I pause, processing my words. I feel my heart squeeze inwardly, making me feel a sharp pain as I say that, and almost ten seconds pass before I complete my statement, "And me." I do not know this foreign feeling inside my chest, but it pained me to speak out; however, the rush disappears as soon as a small smile replaces her frown.
*****
I wanted to ask Lara what had caused her to cry earlier, but it might trigger her again. I do not want that to happen - especially at her state of mind. Instead, I drive in silence, alone inside my car. We completed our reagents, cleaned up the mess we made, and went our separate ways, her going to her house while I pick up my brother from tutoring again. He's a bright child, but my dad thinks it's necessary that he has a tutor since he wants to be just like my father: an anesthesiologist.
I park my car in the lot of this large building. Charlie comes out about ten minutes later, his backpack straps on his shoulders while he holds a lunch box in his right hand. He runs towards the front passenger seat, opening and jumping inside right away.
"How was your tutor today?" I ask, knowing how he thinks the female college tutors are beautiful. "Well, today - I had my math tutor, and she was okay. I didn't like how she kept treating me as if I didn't know anything," he pouts, placing his arms around his chest in anger. I stifle my laugh right away; when it comes to learning, he doesn't mess around. I remember this one time I tried giving him the answer instead of teaching him, and I ended up with a bruise on my cheek - and that was when he was six.
"What did the tutor do?" I ask, knowing even if I don't, he'll tell me as I drive towards home. "Well, she thought I didn't know the difference between a polynomial and a variable - like how stupid do they think I am. I just needed help on a problem, not the whole thing in general," he looks out the window as I back out of the building, keeping everything silent in the car except for the radio in the background. "How was your day, JayJay?" He asks without hesitation, "Didn't you have classes with Lara today?"
Of course he'd ask about my best friend.
"Yes, I did -"
"How was it?" He doesn't even let me finish my sentence, making me start a new one to answer his follow up question. "Class was alright; I don't understand why you care so much about -"
"Do you think Lara can make it to the dinner in November?" He asks, straightening out of his seat. He's been nonstop talking about her ever since I've mentioned her at the dinner table a few months ago, but it's been even crazier after he saw her in person just days earlier. Noticing his eagerness, I smirk, realizing that my brother has accumulated a small crush for Lara.
"No, she doesn't want to go, Charlie," I force myself to maintain a sad and solemn tone, waiting for my brother's reaction as I drive on the road. From my peripheral vision, I see his eyes widen and his head turned towards me, "Why not?" His voice is dark, but with the fact that puberty hasn't hit him all the way, it's adorable how his voice cracks as he speaks, "I thought you said she won't say no. You promised me that she'll be coming over for thanksgiving, so we finally have someone over."
Before I can explain that Lara is too busy, he sits up even straighter, staring at me. "Why are you smiling? What's so funny, JayJay?" In an instant, he punches my right arm with an abundance of his strength, "This is not the time to be joking!" He pouts out and leans back in his seat, "I bet she's coming. You just want to mess with me."
Charlie pulls out his notebook from his backpack as I continue to drive, "Do you think you can tutor me in math instead?" He asks as he takes out his pencil. Mathematics is my weakest subject; I prefer science - ever since I was a child. It was more intriguing to me, but I do know someone who can help my brother. "JayJay, can you help me in math?" He reiterates his question, his patience running cold with the way his teeth are gritted. I give him a short glance before returning my eyes to the road, "No, but I know someone who can."
"Who?" His interest is peaked as a smile forms onto my lips. "You'll see tomorrow," I ruffle his hair with my right arm, resting it on his shoulder afterwards, "Now let's get some icecream before we head home."
*
Point of View: Marian Lara Estrada
*
Number 14 out of One Hundred
Babe. You don't know how much I miss you. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you. The fourteenth reason why I love you is the way you can make anything better. It's how compassionate you are: the way you put everyone before yourself. I'm so lucky to have a girl willing to do anything for me and people around her. You make the worst moments bearable... I thank you for that.
You make me have hope. I can't wait till I'll be able to see you again. I still remember what you told me our last night together... I'm waiting for that day - the day I'll be able to hold you in my arms again. I love you.
Sincerely,
Jake.
I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. I wipe my tears with my pillow, placing the fourteenth letter inside a small box with the rest of the letters I've read. I take out the fifteenth letter, debating on reading it. The more I read, the more I feel like his blow up was a mistake. The pain is still felt, but it is bearable knowing that this man who written these letters is my boyfriend. My attention goes towards the fifteenth letter right away, and I open it to see its contents.
Fifteen of One Hundred Reasons Why I Love You
Marian Lara:
I thought I'd make this number super special for you. I mean, it is the day I asked you to be mine, so why not make it special. "I love you." It's such a simple phrase, but it means so much. To me, it isn't enough. For the rest of my life, I am willing to write letters to you to prove to you how much I care and love you. I know we're far apart -- you're in Alaska, and I'm in California -- but hey, like I said, distance means so little when you love someone so much. Hell, even if I'm in Antarctica, it won't stop me from loving you. I was just talking to a friend about you and explaining how you are on my mind 24/7; actually, it's your best friend I was talking to, but a friend of yours is a friend of mine, right? I can't eat, sleep, walk, drive, or even work without thinking about you. You are in my thoughts all the time. I'd tell you you're in my heart, but I don't feel like that would be right, because my heart is not mine anymore -- it belongs to you. You have completely taken my heart. It's funny, because I told myself I would never fall in love again. Yet when I was least expecting it, I fell the hardest. I have finally found my partner. No matter what we may face, we will overcome it. I love you and that'll never change; that is a promise I will never break.
Infinitely,
Jake.
However, I leave the fifteenth letter next to my notebook as I return the rest of the letters inside the box back under my bed, before laying on the mattress. I try to refocus my attention on the journal prompt my teacher assigned us for today: The emotional development of a human. This is just perfect; emotional development - yea, of course this would be the prompt a teacher gives us. I channel my mind, thinking of what to say - I have so many things in my mind to write about, but I cannot express my mind through written works correctly: the grammar, the sentence structures, the vocabulary - it's too much. I take out my phone from my jean pocket, checking to see the time -
9:45 pm.
I slide my thumb down to see my notifications, seeing that his name is listed out numerous times. I unlock as I see his name, returning to the post I saw on Instagram during school.
"@jaketaustin | throwback to 6.15.2014 #MLJT"
The photo is blurred, but I know exactly what happened that day. I could tell by the small circular blurs that those were the candles laying on the green grass - It's the day he had asked me to be his girlfriend. He posted a photo... Of us, but more importantly, the official date we became an 'us.'
Right away, I go back to the text messages I've forced myself not to look at for the past two days. I scroll through it, reading some of the texts he had sent me.
***Lara, I know you're busy, but I need to know you're okay. You haven't texted me back for a few days...***
***Please, Lara, I need to hear your voice.***
***I'm so sorry for freaking out.***
***I know you're upset with me... I am too. I was a terrible asshole. Please talk to me...***
***Answer your phone please...***
The last text message he had sent was a few hours ago. I look at the number near the phone application. The number is large - all the missed calls and voicemails from him. Right before I can click on one of the voicemails, his name pops up on the screen, signifying that he is calling. The pain in my chest comes back as soon as I see our photo together as his phonebook photo. I wait for it to go to voicemail, and after a few minutes, I click on the voice message accompanied with his latest call. His voice comes shagged, and it cuts off at the end. The worry I feel comes at once - as if I just got hit by a wrecking ball destroying a building in one blow.
I must speak to him.
*
Point of View: Jake Toranzo Austin
*
It's been forty-two hours. Her words continue to stab my heart: the one line not escaping my body. The pain doesn't go away, and I think it never will. I haven't gotten out of bed to do anything, but now, I'm here in the kitchen again. I sit on one of the chairs - I'm all alone on our four month anniversary.
Can I still call it that?
Are we still together?
I feel another slice into my heart as it slams against my ribcage harder. I should've listened to her. Her words were blurred because of my pathetic anger, but now, it's too late to take anything back. My phone is in the palm of my hand; I've tried texting her, but I have not gotten anything in return. My call that I had made earlier was denied, and now, I'm frightened to call again; I've done it so many times, but she hasn't answered one. She isn't going to speak to me. I already know that for a fact. As my phone is in my hand, in the other is another object. My fingers are wrapped around the glass bottle - I think it's the fifth one - the liquid half-gone. I lift the glass to my lips again, taking a swig of the yellow substance until it fills my throat - burning it along its way to my digestive system. It's the only way to remove the pain.
Jake, what are you doing?
A voice echoes throughout my mind. I look around to see what I heard, but no one is here - I'm alone.
I take another gulp of the bitter liquid. I need it inside of me.
Jake, please stop.
The voice returns, and I turn around to see that no one is here. The house is empty. I'm the only one here; however, with every sip of golden liquid I take, the voice gets louder and louder - my mind being blasted with confusion and sadness. It'll disappear. The voice will soon go away.
But it doesn't.
Jake. You shouldn't do this to yourself.
I slam the bottle to the ground, the glass breaking in contact. Her voice is angelic. Beautiful. Perfect But how will I be able to here it again? I want to tell her what I had done wrong, but I can't come in contact with her. I can't even get a reply for the messages I have sent. How can I do anything when she won't answer any of my phone calls? I get off the chair, my body heading towards the entrance door. I do not know what I'm doing with myself - my mind finally being shrouded by grey clouds full of thunder and rain. I stumble on the floor, slamming occasionally on the walls, but I still make it. The keys to my car are in my hand, and I twist the doorknob open, the heat from the California night hitting me as I walk outside.
*****
I don't know where I am anymore. Everything I've used to blur the sadness I saw in her eyes returned to my mind moments ago. My mind is throbbing, my throat burns, everything around me is louder than it should, and my hands won't stop shaking. There is a piercing sound running through my ears, but all I want to hear is her voice.
I look down at my phone again, sliding it to unlock before clicking on her name.
Lara, please pick up.
My foot presses harder on the gas pedal, the tension inside my body heightening as everything around me slows down. I feel the blood inside my heart rushing quickly, but even with the small hope I have, I know inside my mind she's not going to pick up. My phone rings a few times before it is led to voicemail,
"Hey, I can't make it to the phone right now. Please leave your name and message, and I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can!"
Her voice sounds perfect, but the piercing sound in my ear replaces the angelic tone immediately. A beep is heard from my phone, and my mouth quavers.
"Lara... Please pick up," I feel tears stinging my eyes, "I need you to know how much I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything I said before. I didn't mean anything - I promise. You're not a waste of my time; please, give me a chance to explain. I don't know what I'll do without you. You are my -" but the beep is heard again, meaning my time is up. I throw my phone to the empty passenger's seat before slamming my fist against the steering wheel. More memories flood into my system as I remember our drives from my work to hanging out to dropping her off at the end of the night.
"Jake!" her voice is impatient, but I continue pretending to not hear a word she says, "Jake, look over at the camera. I'm trying to take our picture." From my peripheral vision, I see her teeth out, a big smile encompassing her face as she pokes my arm. Either way, she clicks her phone a numerous amount of times, taking photographs of me and her. "Jake, you're so mean," she pokes me; however, this time her finger touches my cheek. "I'm not," I say nonchalantly, "I just don't want to take pictures." In all honesty, I do want to take photographs with her, but right now, my priority is the road. I don't want us getting into an accident because we wanted to take a photograph together. She pouts her lips, unaware how adorable she looks right now. "When we get to the stop light, can you take a photo?" She asks. I smile out, the voice she used against me was so innocent and sweet, making it impossible to turn down, "Alright, Lara."
I slam my hand against the steering wheel once again, the smile she had that day embedded in my mind. Hell, all the things she's done is tattooed inside my heart - every time she giggled at my joke, blushed at my compliment, smiled at the smallest things, covered her face when I did something stupid, cried when something was wrong; it's all in my mind: the way she walks, the way she talks, but most of all, the way she makes me feel inside. It's undeniable I've fallen in love with her, but I had to do something stupid. I had to lose my temper when it wasn't necessary.
"Jake. Where are we going?" she asks. We've been driving for a few hours, and I refuse to tell her my plans for our date. "I told you; it's a surprise," I use both hands to steer the wheel, swerving into the right roads to get us there faster. "But I want to know what the surprise is," she holds onto my right arm, hugging it, coaxing me into telling her where we're going, "We're even matching clothes. We never do things like this." "Nope," I smile, "I'm not telling you; I want to make sure this day will be a day to remember." I turn at the green light, knowing we're almost at our destination: DisneyLand.
The liquid inside my eyes continues to fall down to my cheeks, never ceasing. I hear my phone ring, glancing at the caller to see her name clearly, but at the same time, I hear a vehicle beep, and I shoot my attention towards my speedometer before I feel a flash of light hit my skin - a truck heading towards the direction of my car.
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I do apologize for the long waits.. It is difficult to write now due to my AP classes, responsibilties, homework, and all that jazz. Please do not freak out entirely! It won't be that bad, so please hide all your pitchforks and fire torches.
The only question I have for you all is what do you think is going to happen with Jake? Remember, your opinions are worth more than you think because I manipulate them into my story as well.
Anyways, follow my official twitter @forevermaralee. It'll be the place I give hints, speak my mind, and talk to you lovely readers. I love you all so so much! Please do not give up on this book. I do apologize again for the slowness of the chapters. It'll get better soon.
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