Ones Ignored

Chapter 10 | "Thank you for coming after me, Jamie"

I remember the moment I picked up my courage and made the call. The first time was hard, yes, but this time it would be harder because I would be sharing more. I would be talking about the details of this crime, and I would be sharing those to help them catch whoever was involved. Catch the people involved, because there was more than one person with me. The one who was on top of me was nervous, but the one speaking was talking as if from experience. There was a difference that could help someone.

So, I made the call a week after it happened. I talked about my experience, but towards the end I got too anxious to continue, and my case didn't continue. I knew it was my fault for not finishing the call properly, but the police didn't even bat an eye at what happened. I was mad at myself for that, but also at the station for not advocating for me. I guess if you didn't help yourself, nobody else would.

That was something I had mastered within the year.

"FBI agent", I continued the conversation before I could break down in front of him again. I let out a whistle and pulled one side of my lips up. "That's kind of hot." His eyes stayed on mine, and I could see the reaction to my teasing in his eyes from here. I let out a chuckle and said, When did you figure it out?"

"Sophomore year", he answers, looking down at my hand now. In my hand, I held a lot of grass, the ones that were kind of long and skinny. "Something tells me..."

"Run", I shout to him, a grin spreading across my face. Jameson gets my memo and stands up right before I do. He is faster than me, but as we run across the field, he grows tired, and I grow persistent. He stops to catch his breath, and I come up behind him, where I reach up and dump the contents on top of his head. "It looks good in your blonde hair", I tell him as he shakes out his hair and glares at me. Meanwhile, I am laughing so loudly that my voice is echoing through the empty field. Jameson's glare changes to a simple look, and I know he is studying me.

For the past week, he has been secretly studying me, and I hadn't caught on until yesterday in Life Skills class. I had walked in with a large smile on my face, but when I checked my phone, I was saddened. It was a picture of Blake being posted by Stella. In the picture, Stella had a leg wrapped around his torso, and from the phone, I could see the way he was looking at her. I had memorized the look because he used to look at me like that. It was kind of funny how I recognize it in other people now. A way of life, I guess.

"What are you filing away in your head now?", I ask him, echoing my question to him yesterday. His answer then was simply 'You are sad' but today he doesn't answer right away. He only continues to look at me, and I let him as I picked away a piece of grass from his hair. I pull back, and I find him still staring at me.

"Are you okay?", he asks, a question I wasn't expecting him to ask. It seemed more intimate now, considering the way he was staring at me. He averts his gaze and instead looks down at the shirt he was wearing. "I mean with the case and everything."

"I'll be fine", I say to him, managing a smile. Maybe I could help solve my case anonymously. That interests me quite a lot. I glance at the door we came out of and place a hand on my hip. "Think you can outrun me, sweetheart?" Jameson doesn't say anything but takes a run for it. He was faster now, and I was left staring after him with a smile. I'd never admit it, but I found it kind of hot. Once that thought creeps up on me, I run faster and toward him. Right before he opens the door to the school, I place my hand on the back of his shirt and pull him back.

"Thank you for coming after me, Jamie", I say to him, my smile nervous now. I pull my hand away from his shirt and let it fall to my side. He smiles down at me and then says, "You would have done the same for me."

I'm not sure I would have. I mean, I didn't know him well enough to run after him, but I guess I could have. I'm not sure, but Jameson catches onto the unsureness on my face and looks down at the door handle. He pulls it open and then holds it open for me. Once I walk toward it, he says, "Or maybe not." I feel self-conscious as I walk ahead of him. He was quiet when he made the statement, but did I hear sadness in it? I wasn't sure, so I kept walking toward the end of the hallway.