"The Sketcher." (A Jacksepticeye Story.)

Next Door

"Everything is going to be all right. Maybe not today, but eventually."
- Sean William McLoughlin

Chapter Three

    Jack wiped the sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily. Cheers of victory roared from the bleachers, he had won the game. His whole body ached from being tackled and rammed into, but he had a huge smile on his face. He was the one who made the winning touchdown, he won the whole game.

"NICE ONE, JACKIBOY!" His friend cheered, slapping him hard on the back.

   Jack winced but chuckled and high fived him. He spent a good amount of time getting congratulated by his friends and peers. When the locker room started emptying out, he decided to get cleaned up.
After getting a shower and dressing in his worn out jeans and a pull over, he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and walked out the door.
   As he was walking out, he said his goodbyes to his buddies and occasional awkward wave to the girls who seemed to be swooning over him at every game. Shaking his head, he walked out on the sidewalk and started his way home. His parents were gone on a business trip, but wished their best luck to his games that they would end up missing.
   He clutched his bag closer to him as a cool breeze blew past him. It was quiet and calm, a few street lights were on down his street, casting a faint yellow glow. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, his footsteps echoing with each step.
His mind suddenly wandered to the new girl. Amber. He didn't know why she just popped up in his mind. He always tried to make friends with everyone. He knew all too well how cliques usually treat other cliques. Especially jocks and cheerleaders. The results were always never good.
He never truly understood the rivalry that jocks seemed to hold against non-athletic classmates. He knew he wasn't better than anyone else but his friends seem to think otherwise. They walk around like they own the school and unfortunately it always seems to work out in their favor.
   He knew his friends could be mean sometimes, but all he wanted to do was talk to her. It's like they have to turn their noses up to anyone who hasn't held a football before. Or wears nice clothes and has a lot of money. Why does that even matter?
He thought back to when her notebook had fallen, sending pages sprawling across the floor. Her work was amazing, detailed and expertly sketched. So that's what she does during class. Whenever he'd look at her, she always seemed to be buried in her notebook.
   He remembered one that caught him by surprise. He couldn't get a chance to take a good look, but he swore he saw his face. Or maybe I'm just tired.
   His blue eyes flickered down the street, hearing a dog bark in the distance. Mystery Girl. That's the nickname he had came up for her. He thought it fit nicely.
He chuckled to himself, picking up the pace as the night grew colder. When he finally reached his house, he thought he heard music. It was close. He looked at the house next door, Amber's house.
   When he looked up, he saw light spilling out from an open window on the second floor. He looked harder, seeing someone inside. She opened the curtains, unknowingly showing Jack that it was her. It was Amber. She was oblivious to Jack down below as she moved the curtains out of the way and sat back down.
   He watched her from his porch, watching her pull out her sketchbook. She was facing to the side, the window large enough for him to see. She had her pencil between her teeth, lost in thought as her eyes scanned at her drawing. Her hand reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear before letting go of the pencil and chewing on her bottom lip.
Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, carelessly being tossed out of the way by her hand. She was completely lost in thought, eyes focused entirely on the notebook in front of her. She looked at ease though, relaxed.
   He found himself moving forward, causing his step to groan out loud. He ducked his head, leaning against his front door. He laughed at himself for acting not so stealthy as he decided to head inside. He already felt creepy enough spending that much time watching her.
He stepped inside his house and looked around at his empty house. Running his hands through his hair, he fumbled with his glasses and went up to his room. He turned on his stereo and fell onto his bed. His head turned towards his window, which was covered by his curtains. He could just barely see the light from Amber's room illuminating his window.
She seemed like the kind of person who liked the night better than the day. Jack decided he would talk to her again tomorrow. He was exhausted from the game and wasn't looking forward to the soreness he would be feeling tomorrow morning.
   Changing into sweats and a T-shirt, he switched off the light and flopped into bed. Sleep hit him like a brick, sending his eyes drooping as he fell asleep. Before his eyes closed, he thought of Amber. What's with this girl? Why was I already thinking about her so much?
   Hours later, when Amber's eyes could barely be held open, she decided to finally head to sleep. She laid in bed, listening to the crickets outside and the stars that she could see from her bed. Her eyes switch to the notebook laying on her desk. Jack had said that they lived next across from each other. That close?
She sighed, snuggling deeper into her covers as her eyes started to close. Day one of the new school survived. Only 364 more days to go. Groaning, she shoved her face into her pillow and started to finally drift off.