Masks

Masks - Chp 19

I looked over my shoulder smiling as my gaze caught Gav’s, he winked at me making my smile grow and my inner teen girl squealing wildly as I suddenly felt the need to wildly dance and shake my humming nerves out. A small giggled slipped through as I gave him a small wave before sliding in through the front door before he pulled off the curb of my street in that car of his.

I sighed heavily collapsing against the door, my mind swirling and pooling with giddy intoxication. My head felt clouded and swarmed, his scent like a drug that left me feeling warm and in pure bliss.

The clouds parted though and the sun swept through opening up the bright rays of reality hit me hard as soon as my head hit the pillow that night. I was restless as I curled into my bed, my arms strangling the pillow to death. Like the pillow wouldn’t slip from my grasps just like my sanity was currently doing, slipping through my fingers beyond my control.

All that flashed before my eyes were G.P+C.C, it haunted me to the point of no return. I was certain, almost positive that the C.C part stood for Cindy Crawford. What else could it stand for, I mean I already had my suspicions Cindy was somehow relevant. Or was it possible that I was so absolutely obsessed and suspicious of Cindy that I was too caught up in it all and jumping to conclusions?

I was so rattled and conflicted and certainly far from ever sinking into a blissfully deep sleep to escape reality that groaning I threw off my sheets and dragged myself over to my desk. Mumbling under my breath as I rubbed under my eyes wearily I loaded my computers in hope that simply by typing it into Google the answers would just show up before my eyes.

“Please be nice Google.” I moaned my legs bouncing up and down with impatience at my slow computer as I woke him up, at least he could sleep.

I puffed out a breath as I waited impatiently, what did this G.P stand for? It couldn’t be G.P; Georgie’s last name was Walker. Impatient I reached for my last year’s Yearbook skimming through all the student class photos waiting to see anyone who had G.P as their initials. I found not a single damn person. If only there was a database of all the people living in Emming.

But life is never that simple, not once has my desires been handed to me on a silver platter. The sudden image of Gavin being delivered to me on a silver giant platter had me feeling breathless as I sunk into a world where everything was so damn heated, my skin flush and my body burning. I needed to be revived, even better I think I needed to be revived by Gavin.

Oh how pitiful am I?

Shaking my head out of those extremely dangerous daydreams I bought myself back to my computer screen, throwing up Google as I came back to questioning. Who was this G.P? Georgie didn’t have any nicknames that answered for the ‘P’, so who was it, was it a boy or girl? Did they go to our school? Was it a previous love interest or an ex friend? Maybe even a family member?

I logged into Facebook instantly looking for any previous clues to the G.P, but it was spammed completely with R.I.P comments and statuses on her page, photos and plenty more. It was a mess of mourning and pain. It left me feeling sick and queasy that I was on her page for different reasons.

I sighed my chin nestled on my hand in agitation, this didn’t make sense. Usually when people did the whole G.P+C.C sort of thing the ‘+’ could be replaced with a ‘4’ or even a love heart, but that’s just it, it didn’t necessarily have to be a love interest. Especially at this age, who honestly did the whole initials with the heart surrounding it, or the whole ‘I heart….’

My gut lurched at the idea of my answer to that unfinished question; it seemed just as dangerous as the path I had chosen to follow down on this terrifying, mysterious journey.