Daughter of the Demon (I)

Daughter of the Demon-29-Face the Facts

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Chapter 29: Face the Facts

~Jacob~                         

My heart told me I did the right thing by spacing myself from Jemma. But I couldn’t stand it. I just felt so terrible. Every day I walked home from school my feet automatically turned me in the direction of her house. And every day that happened, I had to reluctantly turn myself away.

I didn’t know this would be so hard.

I hoped Belinda was happy. She made me this way. Maybe that was why she was distant from me. She knew I was finally happy and she destroyed it.

I wondered if this was how Jemma felt all the time. I thought I was starting to feel like her.

Becaues I just didn't care.

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~Jemma~

I must admit, I had as much fun as a teenager weighed down by depression could have during the girls’ night with Aunt Clara. We ate ice cream and watched some chick flick that was totally boring but mindless so I didn’t have to think at all. It was refreshing, and it was nice.

“So, are you feeling any better?” Clara asked me, curling up beside me on the couch. She took her spoon and dipped it in the carton of chocolate chip ice cream, stuffing it in her mouth.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Clara sighed. “Okay. Jemma, I’m going to tell you something every girl needs to keep in mind.”

Oh, no, another Aunt Clara lesson. “What’s that?”

“All guys,” she said, waving her spoon in a circle for emphasis, “are morons. In their own way, which is made worse because they each have their own unique stupidity.” Clara scratched her head for a second, trying to remember her chain of thought.

“Oh yeah,” she continued, “and, they’re oblivious to everything we feel.”

I smirked. “Thanks for the lesson on Guys 101, Clara.”

Clara rubbed my shoulder. “You see? In the end, all you need is a bunch of girlfriends to hang out with.”

I wedged my spoon back into the carton and placed it on the coffee table in front of us. I turned to Clara. “You know what? You’re right. Thanks, Aunt Clara. This has really . . . helped.”

The smile that appeared on her face was indescribably happy. “Jemma, you know I’m always here for you. I’m going to get you out of this and it may take a long time, but we’ll put all this passed us eventually.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Do you trust me?”

Of course I trusted her. I might have just trusted her more than myself. “Yes, Aunt Clara. I do.”

She pulled me into a tight hug. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear that from you.”

I soaked up her hug and for some reason felt tears sting my eyes. God, I was such a freaking wimp. Stop thinking about Jacob you insecure idiot!

“What’s wrong, Jemma?” She asked, pulling away.

“I miss him,” I rasped, “a lot. I’ve never felt this before.”

“Oh, dear, you’ve got it bad.” Aunt Clara looked at me with sad eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked her.