Loving the High School Bad-Boy

Chapter 19

Thank you @Idek8_8Oops for the beautiful cover! I love it!
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Jackson's POV-
I stood outside my house, with a joint because I didn't want her room to smell like it when she got back.

I handy smokes one in years, but suddenly I took it up again, Chase and Hunter keep telling me how it's, 'Bad for me' and that its 'Ruining my life' and apparently, according to chase, 'Your being an idiot, and an asshole for thinking your the only one effected by this.'

What the fuck does he know? He's not even shedding a tear over this, I know that I'm not the only one affected! Im just the only one who shows it! How does he not get that Casey, and Kelly, and Sean, and Cody, and more importantly, her father; are just as affected, but they just don't show it.

I crushed the joint under my foot, changed my clothes and went back to her room. My clothes are a lot baggy-er than before, and I think it's because I'm not eating, no, I know it's because I'm not eating. In about only 100 pounds now, and I know it's not healthy, but she's not fucking healthy either, so why should I?

I laid down in her bed, and drank in her smell, vanilla, it was the closest I ever got to her these days, and lately it had become duller, and less prominent than before.

I looked down at the fresh cuts in my arms, and thought about what Amy would think. What Evie would think. What she would think. They'd be ashamed. And they'd shout at me. And chastise me about how I'm killing myself, and I'm acting self centered, and being an idiot. Amy, she would notice, and ask me. And when I pushed her away, she would narrow her eyes, and scrunch up her cute nose and persist. I'd get mad, then she'd get aggravated, and let out a frustrated yell as she stomped her foot and walked away, yelling at me to leave.

I missed her so badly.

I suppose you could say that it was killing me. But in truth, I was killing myself. I wasn't eating. I wasn't moving. I was turning into a pile of, blah, as Amy would put it.

In reality, I missed her like crazy. I only ever got up to go visit her, and when I did I gave her the same speech. Over. And. Over. And. Over. And. Over. It was never ending, I felt like the more I said it, the more it would become real. The more it would become, in my head; in my heart. I guess you could say I loved her. But that was so far from the truth. I just really liked her.

I was not capable of love. I never was. And I never will be.
Simple as that.