I'm not very pleased with this chapter...*sighs*. I've been emotionally detached from everything lately because in exactly fifteen days I'm going to graduate...I feel so...old. And I'm not too excited to grow up either. Oh well, I haven't been myself lately that's all so I hope you guys like this anyway! It's not my best work but I'm going to try really hard to up my game. I know what I want to write and I don't have writers block. It's just a horrible case of old-itis. Ha. That was a dry, lame joke. Anyway, I hope you forgive me for this rant and I hope you guys like this chapter anyway! I promise not to write something so...eww, okay? I promise.
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ALSO!: Picture Of Blake at the side !
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7. Chances Are...
Blake’s POV
I woke up alone the next day. I remembered the details—vaguely though of me being all babyish and using Noah as a shoulder to cry on. Right now all I wanted to do was go to him and have him hold me tightly. This was so bad—Blake Deveraux—I, was not like this. I felt so alone. I kept on thinking of how he tensed up whenever I stirred and he would tightened his arms around me.
I was a girl who had plenty of nightmares. Not gory blood sucking ones with Bloody Mary or whatever—no. I had the nightmares of when my parents died. It happened again. And again. And again. It was horrifying. I woke up once or twice that night and I could feel Noah’s heartbeat racing as I tightened my hold around him. He’d tense up when I did that too.
I groaned when I got up. “Whoa, head rush.” I murmured to myself. I wondered what would have happened if Noah were here to sooth and relax me. I had a raging headache and I didn’t know why. “This sucks like hell.”
“Blake! You’ve got to go to school today, sweetheart!” I didn’t want to go but since the police visit, we’d been distant but I knew she was trying.
She wasn’t used to having a teenager just like I wasn’t used to having someone caring for me. But I responded to her. I nodded or shook my head when she asked questions but I limited what I would say to her. I didn’t want to snap at her and ask her why she didn’t tell me that my parents deaths weren’t accidents.
I nodded to myself feeling the rush slowly get out of my senses and got ready for school. After my quick shower and some quick applying of some eyeliner and mascara I started to look for clothes. I didn’t feel like being noticed—ever. Maybe my aunt would cut me some slack and let me wear clothes that would attract less eyes.
I ended up wearing faded blue, ripped jeans and a baggy, black Ramones singlet. There. I looked decent but I looked casual. Good. I didn’t want to leave my hair down so I quickly braided it to my side and grabbed my ray bans. Though I had a good sleep…with Noah being there, I had bags in my eyes from when I hadn’t slept.
After grabbing a piece of toast and kissing my aunt goodbye I left for school. I would have been late if I didn’t go now. Thankfully, Noah was already at school. How did I know? His black mustang was parked closest to the school, call me stubborn but I wanted to avoid him at all costs. So I parked at the spot furthest from him.
Getting out of the car, I put my Ray Bans on, shielding my eyes from the sorry sight before me. There were a bunch of girls scowling at me with Hayley—the head cheerleader I think, was glaring at me. I ignored them, holding onto my sling bag until I got to homeroom. The class was just about filling up and the teacher Mr Cross or something like that still wasn’t there so I sat the back. For a moment I closed my eyes, trying to savour the fact that noone was here pissing me off.
You know how people say ‘Well, things couldn’t get any worse?’...I was just thinking that. Because by then a hot breath was on my ear. I nearly jumped up my seat and fell to the ground because of the surprise. As I turned I faced Noah—smirking and clearly happy with himself.
“I think I must have offended God in some way.” I murmured to myself as I sat down on my seat and tried to push the desk further away from him.
“What might you have done to God then?” he asked, clearly curious about what I meant.
“Firstly, I have you as a stalker. Secondly, as if it isn’t already enough that I had to shut my eyes and have you as my last sight last night...” I let my voice trail off. I wasn’t about to admit to him that I slept better being held in his arms.
“If I might recall, you asked me to sleep over. I just didn’t think you’d be too pleased with my..er...morning habits.” He coughed, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the situation.
Morning Habits? “What ‘morning habits’?” I asked.
He waved his hands up and muttered ‘don’t worry’ but I wasn’t so sure what he meant exactly. Soon, Homeroom was being filled and the teacher had walked in, calling out the roll and seeing if everyone was in class. I hoped to god that I didn’t have classes with Noah today. I sighed and got elbowed lightly in my ribs. Looking up, I faced Noah yet again.
Why does he have to be so damned annoying yet so damned sexy!?
“What do you want now?” I ask, faking annoyance. I wasn’t annoyed. I liked talking to him...even if I did want him to leave me alone half the time. I couldn’t really understand with me. My hormones must have been everywhere and there must have
“I was just curious...have you been getting...weird looks today?”
“Pretty-boy, if you didn’t catch on—I haven’t been coming to school. This is like, my third day or something. Officially. So of course people will stare at me…they’re nosy.” I said, frowning.
“Mmm.” He nodded, now uninterested.
I was about to say something else but It was useless—I should be trying to avoid Noah. The bell thankfully started dinging so I got up, my bag with me and pushed past some students to get to my first class. I groaned when I checked out my schedule. I had Biology. I hated science or anything to do with the word. I had nothing against smart people because I was smart myself.
Not to be up myself but that was it. I was smart without trying—I had an IQ of one-hundred-and-fifty. It sucked so much without trying. It was why I was so fed up with school—what was the point of knowing what you already knew?
I felt suddenly violated…my comfort space…my little bubble had been invaded. Standing in front of me was a girl. She had short red hair and a single black streak. In other cases, I would have somehow befriended her—she looked like someone I would be friends with. Yes, rebellious. She looked it, with her pixie cut, emo-styled clothing. If I had to place her at a certain clique I would put her in the Skater, Emo or Goth clique. But I wasn’t one of those girls. I just eyed her curiously, thinking of what she wanted.
This girl was my type of girl. Till she opened her mouth.
“Are you dating Noah Hunt?” She asked scornfully.
I scoffed and pointed to a laughing Noah—who, to my dismay was in my class. He sat up the front laughing with his friends. “Pretty-boy? Hell no. He’s not my type.” Lies. My head nudged at me, but I ignored the thought—the more I talk to myself the stupider I make myself look.
Her jaw dropped. Aw man! Okay this girl is not MY kind of girl. She didn’t look friendly now as she scowled at me, cheeks blushing a crimson red.“Noah Hunt is everyone’s type.” She enunciated, staring at me wide eyed and I think a flash of annoyance passed through her eyes.
“Listen here, Betty Boo. He. Is. Not. My. Type.” I rolled my eyes and returned to writing. Doodling actually. I started drawing the old road where my parents died. I knew I was torturing myself but I would have done anything to escape any dumb situation.
In this case I was drawing the road where my mom and dad died. The worst thing about what I was doing was that I could actually sketch, I could actually paint. My mom could do it when she was alive and she passed it onto me. It was a heavy reminder of my parents. I drew the outline of the trees, the forest around the outside of my house—the wide gates...I was about to finish the other details of my sketch when I finally couldn’t take it. Here eyes were burning into my soul.
Betty Boo.
“Do you need something, Betty Boo?” I asked, all annoyance in my tone. Hopefully, she’d take the hint before she fully pisses me off. She didn’t. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem?”
“If you aren’t dating Noah Hunt then why are you dressed alike? Are you stalking him? Are you a fan of his or something?” Wow. This girl clearly wanted me to do a number on her! And what did she mean ‘why are you dressed alike?’
I stood up and scanned the room, finding Noah again. OH MY FREAKING GOD! What the hell! “PRETTY-BOY!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, all eyes now on me. I stalked off to him and surely enough, what Betty Boo had said was right.
Noah wore faded blue jeans, hung low at the waist, aviator Ray Bans propped on his hair like a headband a black Ramones T-shirt and checkered black and white Vans. He looked at me up and down, checking me out then he stopped at my face. He was staring at me intently, amusement flickered in his piercing blue eyes.
Crap—was I checking h out whilst I was pissed at him! Bad girl, Blake!
“Yes, missy?”
“Don’t you dare ‘yes, missy’ me!” I shouted. His friends laughing behind him, amused by the show. “Shut up and come with me.” I ordered. A dozen thoughts ran through my mind. How could he have known to dress that way?! It was like a horrible nightmare, like when a girl goes to prom and she has the same dress as another girl. Except worst! Because this looked...couple-y!
I cringed at the thought of it. At the thought of what people must have been saying. Ugh!
I stalked out of the class, wondering where the teacher had gone. Stupid teacher! I wouldn’t have noticed if she were there and made Betty-freakin’-Boo leave me the hell alone! I knew Noah was following me so I headed out into the garden by the lockers and leaned on a soft-drink machine. I breathed, the air entering my lungs and helping my chest stop heaving too heavily. This was too stressful.
Just then, Noah walked towards me. A sheepish smile in his face, amusment in his eyes whilst he had both ahnds in the pockets of the front of his jeans. He looked like an innocent little bastard. This made my blood boil—how could he...URGH! Frustration started sending tingles of heat through my body.
I was trying for a low profile! What the hell is this boy doing to me!
“What do you think you’re wearing?”
Noah’s POV
“What do you think you’re wearing?” she asked, staring at me with fury in her eyes. She looked like she could do some serious damage with her fists clenched so I kept my distance but still kept close to her.
“What do you mean?” I ask, nonchalantly.
She glared at me. “Don’t play dumb with me pretty-boy. Look at me!” and I did. I just stood there, checking her out. “Ugh! Stop checking me out. Tell me why are you wearing that?!”
“Remember how I asked you about people staring?” I asked, she ignored my question so I decided to keep talking. “I asked you this morning. About people staring, the reason is because they started staring at me weirdly too. Then I saw you and I knew why. We match.” I grinned.
“You were probably watching me get dressed this morning or something, you stalker!” she hissed.
“I swear I didn’t. If anything, you might have stalked me. I got here before you did, just FYI.” I smiled at her, genuinely. Her face began to soften. “It’s kind of cute though, you gotta admit. Us matching.”
“I know I’m cute and no it’s not.” She said and crossed her arms. I stared at her even more—Blake had a great body. I remember seeing her the first time in her white summer dress. Her long legs were endless sending thoughts to all the male minds within a meter of her. She was really gorgeous and to the other guys, she was an object of sex, which made what she was wearing alot more appealing. Sure the dress showed more skin but her jeans hugged all her curves and her with her arms crossed...
“You shouldn’t do that.” I pointed out, nodding at her crossed arms. She gave me a look that practically screamed ‘And why the hell not?’ I nearly laughed. My head even understood the way Blake thought. “Your boobs look big like that.”
She dropped her arms along with her jaw and she stared at me shocked. Oh well. She was pissed off enough anyway so I kept on going. “And your ass looks good in those jeans…so, don’t wear those jeans and don’t cross your arms.” Blake looked about ready to go all nuclear bomb on me so I raised both my hands up, as if she were a policeman telling me to put my hands in the air, all I was really doing was showing her that I wasn’t a threat and that I wasn’t insulting her. “It’s not just me who thinks this. Half the guys in this school already want in your pants. I just thought you’d know so you wouldn’t feel so perved on. I’d hate for you to feel uncomfortable.” I said softly.
Again her face softened, she muttered something that wasn’t understandable. “Okay, thanks for telling me I guess.” There was a short pause, making the air between us awkward and tense, she crossed her arms again then shot me a look, noticing the fact that I was still looking at her then she added: Stop checking me out.”
Damn this girl’s observant. But I then realized that she kept on stealing glances at me. Payback time. “Then stop checking me out.” I smirked.
“What!? How do you—I mean! Argh! Has anyone ever told you that you and your little fan girls are infuriating?” she started pacing. “First I get eyed by a freaking tanned pineapple, next I get freaking stared down by Betty Boo!” she muttered to herself, kicking the grass and making holes in them with her converse.
She looked really tired and restless. How could she be tired or restless? I know she stirred a lot last night. I smiled, remembering the memory.
Flashback
She finally fell asleep, holding onto her pillow and for about five minutes my eyes began to drop. Then she began to shake, her body convulsing until she turned her body, now facing mine. Her singlet top and short-shorts would have done a number on any guy but not me—her sleeping face was enough. She looked momentarily peaceful until she started convulsing again.
‘Mommy!’ she shrieked.
I thought she was awake and I held onto her, her body slowly started to stop shaking...‘Mommy?’ I knew her parents were dead. Why else would she be an ex-delinquent. I remember watching her cry. It broke my heart. I didn’t know exactly how I felt about her but seeing her shaking and holding onto herself was like seeing someone holding onto themself because if they didn’t they would break.
I was afraid she would shatter when I held her. She kept on murmuring. ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy’. It hurt to see someone look so pained. I remember our conversation, for a moment I smile. She didn’t say yes but she didn’t say no either. It meant that she would see what happens. She was that type of girl. The type that checked the water’s temperature to make sure it was just right before she jumped.
She started crying again. ‘I miss you’. She muttered softly, holding onto herself again. I tightened my hold on her, my muscles feeling heavy and annoyed. I wanted to watch her sleep all night.
And so I did. I stared at her and smiled. “I’m going to be here for you, Blake Deveraux. You might not like it but I sure as hell won’t give up easily.” and I kissed her furrowed brows until they relaxed, until her body stopped convulsing. Soon we both shared small smiles in our faces.
End of Flashback.
“Pretty-boy, why are you staring at me like that? I’m seriously scared for my life right now.” she said backing away.
“Shut-up. I was just thinking about last night.” I winked at her and she stiffened.
She walked up to me, she was so close, her breath warm on my chest. She was pretty short, but maybe I was just pretty tall. “Do not,” she whispered slowly, “ever mention that. Ever. I’m warning you, pretty-boy. I don’t want to be some sexual joke that you and your friends will share. Last night will never happen again.”
I stepped back, shocked at her sudden pissy attitude. “Blake, are you freaking bi-polar? I wasn’t making it out to be a sexual innuendo. You’re so...you’re so infuriating!”
“So are you.” She pointed out and smiled evilly at me. “At least now you get the gist of it and you’ll hopefully leave me alone.”
Hearing her words, I felt my face fall. I’d never had a girl run away from me before—cocky as that sounded. Girls always chased me. It scared me. How could she say something that would so horridly affect me? “Blake,” I started to say at the same time she walked away.
I walked faster, knowing she would just return to class. I grabbed her wrist but she pulled away. Clearly I wasn’t going to get to her this way. “For christssake, Blake! Just listen to me for ten freaking seconds.” I said, turning her and pinning her to the lockers.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, narrowed eyes, lips pursed. “You realize I could have you convulsing in pain on the ground if you don’t let me go?” her words were stern.
I let go of her wrist but placed both my arms on the locker, leaning on my palms and caging her in between my arms. She looked at me plainly, with eyes blank. “I thought you would think about giving me a shot?”
She shook her head. “Jeez, pretty-boy I didn’t say anything...I didn’t say I’d give you a shot. Nor did I say I wouldn’t give you a shot.”
“But you said you have...strong feelings for me.” I added.
“Yeah, but like I said—I don’t know if it’s negative or positive.” She sighed. “Noah,” I nearly gasped—she sounded serious now, even using my name, not ‘pretty-boy’. The way my name rolled of her tongue sent shivers up my spine. Thankfully, I knew how to mask my actions. “Pretty-boy, I don’t know what I want out of my life but you do. I barely know you—the most I know is you’re a good guy. Too good for my liking but I don’t need complications right now.”
“And I’m a complication?”
She shook her head again. “Your fan girls are, your life is. You live on the fast lane and I’d like to walk and enjoy the view. I’ve just met you but...I can’t do anything right now. I can’t say I’ll give you a chance when all I know is you’re some actor.”
There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “Have a little faith, Blake.”
She smiled. “I do. But look at yourself—people already talk about you and me. It’s not what I need right now. I don’t enjoy this attention.”
“That’s why I like you.” I said straightforwardly. “Damn woman! What are you doing to me?!” I asked and looked at her. She looked sad, even when she smiled—like there was something more there. And I knew there was. She wasn’t like any other girl.
“Look pretty-boy, you’re straightforward and you’re attractive—don’t get cocky—you might think you like me but you barely even know me. What you like is what you see, there’s nothing emotional about it. This is just lust.”
“It isn’t just lust!” I shouted as I slammed my fist on the lockers.
“Prove it.” she said in a challenging tone. All traces of vulnerability, of sadness was gone from her face. Now she looked like the badass I met on the first day of school. She raised her hands up looking sort of like an angel before she took my arms off the locker making me stumble a little. She grinned and took her Ray Bans that were hanging by the waistband of her jeans and put them on.
She walked away slowly—sauntered away really, before I called out to her and she turned around, pulling her sunglasses down and allowing me a little peek of her devilish stare.
“Yah, pretty boy?” she asks in a bored tone.
“I’ll prove to you that this isn’t just lust.” I said slowly so that It would give her time to understand and gave her my best show-biz smile that made girls swoon at the sight of it. I swear I saw her eyes widen a little. By now I was grinning and she was scowling at me. “I’ll see you tonight missy.”
“What do you mean?” she asks. I can tell she knows she’s about to walk into a trap, it’s why her tone was so protective, guarded even.
“I’ll see you tonight....in your dreams.” I winked and walked the opposite direction.
I’m going to prove to you that I’m worthy Blake Deveraux and prove to you I shall.