One Step

Chapter 4

I jumped back from the door. Who was that? How did she get in here? Why is she even here? My head was filled with so many questions and emotions – I felt happy, confused, sad, and sympathetic. Wait, why was I happy about this? She’s crying - I shouldn’t be happy. Maybe it’s because I haven’t spoken to anyone in so long and if I help her, I could become friends with her. Well for a few hours anyway. I had to do it today, nothing could stop me. I paced up and down the corridor, debating with myself as to whether I should just leave and forget all about her or open the door and help her. I wanted to just leave and pretend I hadn’t heard anything but for some unknown reason I felt the need to find out who she was. Before I’d even realised I had done it, my hand was turning the gold handle and the door was open.

She stood up and looked at me, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dark grey jacket. We both just stared at each other for what felt like hours. She had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. When she was looking at me, it was like I could feel her grey eyes seeing through my green ones. They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and if that’s true then the she was seeing the most hidden parts of my soul. I managed to avert my eyes from hers after a while. She had long, wavy, auburn hair that reached all the way down to her waist. She wasn’t short, but she wasn’t tall either – in my eyes, she was a perfect height. Well everything about her seemed perfect to me. I eventually managed to get a few words out.

“Umm hey, are you alright?” I asked, nervously running my hands through my short, dark brown hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She mumbled back in response.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine.” I said, my voice filled with concern.

“Well I am, so just leave it.”

“I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well thanks but I don’t need your help or anyone else’s.”

She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder whilst walking towards me.

“Excuse me.” She said, trying to get past me as I was blocking the door.

“Wait; just tell me your name at least.” I pleaded with her.

“Why does it matter what my name is?” She said looking up at me, rolling her eyes.

“I just want to know.”

“Well I just don’t want you to know.” She said mockingly.

“Why not?” I asked

“I don’t even know who you are.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Well, I’m Jake, I’m seventeen and I write stories.” That was all she needed to know about me, there was no point telling her anything else. I wouldn’t be me in a few hours.

“What kind of stories?” She asked, unfolding her arms and tilting her head to the left.

“Mainly stories about love. I like the idea of love.” I said, staring at the floor, trying to avoid her gaze. No one really knew about my stories apart from Isaac, he was the only one I was comfortable sharing them with.

“Can I read one?” She asked, looking up at me. It was so hard to make myself not look into her eyes.

“Umm, yeah I guess.’ I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I don’t know why but if anyone was going to read them, I wanted it to be her. ‘But you have to tell me your name.”

“Ugh fine, but only after I’ve read it.”

“Before.”

“After.”