My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs, that I was certain they would fracture under the pressure. I was anxious, yes, but this was a completely different type of anxiety. After the kiss I hadn't been able to bring my heart back down to a normal speed. It was now last period and I was still all worked up over it. Everytime Jace so much as shifted his weight in the desk next to mine, I felt my heart try to leap from my chest in crazy unhealthy jolts. I was really kind of confused by my intense reaction to him, you would think that I wouldn't want anything to do with another guy after what happened with Brad, and I hadn't.
I looked over at him, any girl could see that he was the most beautiful guy at this school hands down (Even though Ryan Weber would beg to differ), but that wasn't it. There was just something about Jace Parker that effected me in a way that no other guy ever had.
At first sight, you would think trouble. He just looks the part of the troubled teen boy, a badass if you will, but there was something pushed so deep inside of him, that came out at the strangest moments. It was like you could catch a glimpse of the real Jace, if you just got past all the swearing and the hard exterior. I thought back to when he had first seen my cuts, the look on his face, it was more than just shock or horror, and then it was gone. I wanted to know who that person was deep inside of him, the one he worked so hard to keep buried. I wanted to know what had made him how he was now.
I had to know.
"Pst." Jace signaled, looking at me from the corner of his eye, I leaned forward expectantly. He gestured toward the front of the room with the hand that had just been covering his mouth. What the hell? Was he telling me to pay attention? I was fighting the urge to snort at him when-
"Ms. Smith?" I jumped at the sound of my name and turned to face Mrs. Peterson, our english teacher. Every eyeball in the class was glued to me, well except for Jace's. He was just shaking his head seemingly amused by me.
"Yes, Mrs. Peterson?" I asked timidly, my voice cracking from either embarassment or lack of use.
"Please try to focus your attention up here." She said pointedly, while glancing over at Jace.
I wish everyone would stop looking at me.
"Sorry." I whispered, flushing insanely as I pushed myself even lower in my seat, gripping at my desk until my knuckles turned white.
After what seemed like an eternity the class had come to an end. As everyone got up around me I stayed slouched in my seat, exhausted by the events of the day. I was chewing on a particularly painful hang nail and letting my thoughts run rampid when I realized that Jace was staring at me from the doorway, waiting for me to get up.
For some reason I found myself ridiculously nervous to approach him. I pulled myself out of my seat reluctantly, grabbing my backpack off the floor. I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked slowly over to him, dragging my feet and chewing on my lip the whole way.
"What the hell was that about?" He asked.
I wasn't sure if he meant my slow approach, or the fact that I had been caught staring at him for half the class. I was pretty sure it was the latter though. I balled my hands into tight fists inside my pockets. If I hadn't picked up the habbit of biting my nails down to tiny stubs, I was sure my palms would have had little crescent shaped marks in them.
"Hey." He said, tugging on one of my sleeves as if to make me release my hands and answer him.
We were still standing in the doorway of the classroom, people pushing past us. "I want you to tell me something about yourself." I blurted out dumbly.
He looked at me quizically and shook his head as if to clear it. "What?"
I let my eyes dart around, and when I decided no one was paying attention I started. "It's just that you know everything about me, and I don't know the first thing about you."
He clenched his jaw. "You know everything you need to."
"What- nothing?" I said feeling a little angry now. He really knew some of the deepest darkest secrets I had, and I knew nothing about him. Well, except that he drank and swore like a sailor, and that he lived with his brother.
"Look Ella." He said my name with so much venom, it reminded me of the way he had acted the first day I met him. "I don't know if you realize this, but we are not in a relationship. I owe nothing to you, and quite frankly I don't give a fuck that you find it unfair that I know about all of your shit. That's your own damn fault." He lashed out at me, his voice full of anger.
I felt my eyes starting to sting, and I clenched my hands even tighter to will them away. "Fine." I said numbly, shrugging him off.
"Good." He snapped back. If I wasn't so upset, it would have been kind of comical, but instead of laughing I turned and ran away from him.
I locked myself up in my room as soon as I got home, telling my dad that I had a ton of homework. I had so many conflicting emotions. Mostly I wanted to cry, and scream, but I also found myself wanting to laugh. I couldn't believe how stupid I was for thinking that Jace and I could have any type of relationship, I obviously wasn't stable enough to even be friends. I could feel myself building up to a certain level of hysteria, and I decided one thing. I was never going to let another guy into my life again.
I don't need anyone. I though to myself as I dug frantically through my backpack for my weapon of choice.
After I made my first cut, it was like I couldn't stop, nothing else mattered at that point. I made fluid quick swipes with the blade of the scissors across my right arm. I usually never cut this arm, considering I was right handed and I found myself to be sloppy and unprecise when I used my left hand to cut. I didn't care at that moment, I was too far gone.
I don't know how much time had gone by when I finally felt what I was looking for, but I stared down at my arm where there were a variety of different sized wounds. Some were just welted angry scratches, while others were actually bleeding slices.
I smiled in satisfaction.
I sat at the counter that seperated the kitchen from the living room with my head in my hands. I had been sitting like that, with the phone laying on the counter top in between my elbows, just waiting since I had gotten home. I was hoping she would call, the weak part of me was anyway, the smaller stronger part of me was saying that this was for the best. I couldn't- no- I wouldn't let this girl get close enough to know me. I was not capable, or worthy of someone else's affection. Not to mention that this girl was so fragile, and I could barely keep myself from breaking. It didn't matter anyway, if she found out the truth about me then she would probably just write me off anyway. I was a murderer, and a horribly twisted person, but for some reason I just didn't want her to think so low of me.
"FUCK." I yelled slamming my fists on the table. Too bad Norah wasn't here to hear that one. Ian and her had gone out to dinner and a movie, so I had the house to myself.
Fucking lucky bastards.
I snatched the phone from the counter, and made my way down the hallway to my room. I went right for the new bottle of liquour, I had obtained it through a rather miserable man. I always knew how to find the people that would be happy enough for some extra cash, to buy alcohol for a minor. I pulled the full glass bottle from under my bed, this time I had gotten myself a nice bottle of Jack. I opened it and took a swig, feeling the burn as the firey liquid made its way down my throat and settled in my chest. With a slight smile on my face I walked over to my computer and brought up a playlist. Rage Against The Machine "Killing in the name" blared through the speakers, matching my mood perfecly.
I had already made a pretty good dent in the bottle of Jack, and I was feeling pretty fucking lousy about myself. I couldn't stop thinking about Ella, and how much of a fucking asshole I had been to her. She had been right to a point, I knew everything about her, and offered nothing about myself in return. Not to mention I kept fucking up, telling her I just wanted to be friends one minute, and kissing her the next.
I was sitting in the shitty chair that matched my shitty desk, and leaning back with my feet propped up on said desk. I had one arm over my face, while my other arm held the bottle of liquor in my lap. I thought about how nice it would be to just fucking hear her voice, and dropped my feet on the floor. The wheels of the chair protested, they were all wobbly and fucking retarded as I propelled myself closer to the desk clumsily, sloshing whiskey everywhere.
"Oops." I shrugged sucking some of the liquour off of my hand, and reaching for the phone.
I stared at the phone hesitantly, and then figured why the fuck not? I punched in her number and waited for her voice, and waited, and-
"Hello?" A man's voice answered me instead, her fucking dad.
"Wrong number." I grunted before hanging up.
I was such a fucking moron, what was I going to say if she had answered anyway? I let my head fall down on the desk rather roughly, I felt as though my thoughts were whirring around in my skull, the feeling was sickening. I was so drunk, and so fucking tired, I just needed to close my eyes.
I awoke screaming and thrashing. Why the fuck was I on the floor? The remnants of the dream still lingering on the edges of my mind, I had to force myself to remember that I was safe, that I was in Ian's apartment. I looked around me, shaking like a God damn leaf, and pulled myself up off the ground. Even though I knew I was fine, I still couldn't shake the image of my dad's bloody face from my mind. Sometimes I swore it was his way of coming back to fucking haunt me. I wondered if Ian and Norah were home yet, and just how fucking loud I was screaming, when Ian's voice rang out answering both of my questions.
"Woah, woah, what the hell's going on?" he flung my door open taking in the sight of me with a look of shock. I probably looked like a raging lunatic.
"Nightmare." I shrugged. Ian knew I sometimes had nightmares about that night.
"I thought they were getting better." He said in a quiet and pained voice, the thing about Ian is he was always putting people's feelings before his own. I mean the fact that he had taken me in after our parents died was nice enough in itself, especially when he had wanted Norah to move in so they could start their life together- as in alone. Add to that the fact that I was the monster that killed our father, he was just completely selfless. I mean, it's not like Ian was ever very fond of our father either, but he never despised him as much as I did. You see good ol' dad had always had a special place in his heart for me, beating on me day after day. Ian never knew how bad it had really been for me, because he had gotten the fuck out of there as soon as he could.
"Guess not." I shrugged trying to remain indifferent, but the truth was I was still pretty fucking shaken up.
"Have you been taking your meds?" He asked, sounding a little uncomfortable with the whole situation.
I just shrugged again hoping he would just fucking drop it. He stared at me a long time before saying anything, and when he finally spoke he surprised the shit out of me. "You're the only one who blames you, you have to forgive yourself." and then he patted me on the shoulder and left me sitting there alone, feeling even shittier than before.
Fucking Ian, always so damn selfless.