Wasted Time

Chapter 4

PAISLEY

As I sit here in my old new room, I'm thinking of the possibilities of dying from jumping off a bridge. Would it kill me? Or would I just hit the water, drown and die a slow and painful death?

You're probably wondering why I would be thinking of this but I'm realizing now that I'm not just thinking it; I'm planning it.

It's my second day in Palm Springs and I feel like an outsider in my own home. My grandparents talk to me and all, but they talk to me like I'm dying. I absolutely hate it. I just want to be treated like any other teenage girl. The one who, when she breaks a plate purposely, her grandparents get mad at her. I literally broke a plate and smashed it into pieces to get my grandparents to scold me. Instead they just said 'it's okay Paisley, you're going through a lot right now' which is even worse.

I can see it in their eyes that they're getting tired of me already. I don't blame them; I'm getting tired of myself too.

Which brings me here.

9:30 p.m.

In front of a bridge, contemplating whether I should jump and test my theories or turn back around. Of course, being myself and all, I choose to jump. I'm not trying to kill myself, I just want to know if I'll survive the jump; that's different right?

If I survive the jump, I'll take it as though God would want me to live and there's hope for me.

If I die then, well I die. I'm going to die anyways, what's the matter with speeding up the process?

I put one leg over the ledge and pull myself up. I stand upright on the thin ledge of the bridge and turn around. I close my eyes, and put my arms up in the air, making a cross formation. I let my body loosen and I brace myself for the fall.

I'm waiting to fall off the ledge but I'm staying still. That's when I realize that a hand is preventing me from falling. I open my eyes and look at my favourite colour, blue.

JAKE

What is she doing? Why is she looking at me like I just killed her dog? I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved, I knew she would be one of those drama queens; didn't I call it?

Before y'all start thinking I'm a stalker, I would like to clear things up by saying I was just walking to the park and this is the shortcut I always take. She just happens to be here. And it's pretty hard to miss a girl on the ledge getting ready to jump.

Well in her case, fall.

PAISLEY

Who is this guy? Why is he holding me?

I mean yes he's very attractive, and when I say very, I'm saying very attractive. He has the prettiest set of blue eyes I've ever seen. His hair is jet black, and his lips, oh his lips, are full and so kissable. I would've kissed them then and there, if you know, if he wasn't holding me and ruining my plan. And if he wasn't a stranger.

We stare at each other for what seems to be hours while he's still got a tight hold on my arm.

"Let. Me. Go." I finally say.

"No, so what? So you can go ahead and kill yourself?"

I groan in frustration. "I'm not trying to kill myself you idiot."

"Idiot? Do you not see what you're doing right now? It would make me an even bigger idiot to believe you."

He carries me over his shoulder and carefully puts me down onto the pavement.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," he offers.

"No. I don't even know you," I glare at him.

"Well I know you," he smirks. "Well you're Paisley Archer, who lives in the light brown house with her grandparents."

My eyes widen. "How the fuck do you know me?" I instinctively back up and move away from him.

"Woah woah woah, calm down," he says, putting his arms up in surrender. "Your cousin Alexa told my friend about you and then my friend told me about you because he thinks you're hot."

Instead of being flattered with the fact that I've just been called hot, I scrunch my face up in disgust. Being called hot basically means that they've checked you out, from head to toe. And that sickens me. He's the kind of guy my mom told me to stay away from.

"Okay whatever sad girl, walk by yourself but I'm not leaving this bridge until I see you walk away on your own." He says, clearly under the impression that I was trying to kill myself.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself!"

"Okay, sure, whatever I believe you," he says effortlessly.

I open my mouth to say something but he puts his index finger up in the air right in front of my face, motioning me to shut up. When I try to speak again, he turns around and waves his hand in the air dismissively.

I roll my eyes at him and walk away. In high hopes of never having to see him again and the fact that he never game me his name, possibly means that he's hoping for the same thing.

It just frustrates me to know that someone out there, who I don't even know, knows a whole lot about me (all thanks to my big-mouthed cousin) while I'm standing here, not having a single clue as to who the guy is. I'm clueless. I don't like feeling like a fool. I don't like feeling stupid.

And I especially hate not knowing things.

I absolutely hate it.

Just as much as my hatred for the word 'moist'.

This is not how I wanted the night before the first day of my new high school to end. With a guy, who I may or may not see again, thinking he saved me from 'trying to kill myself'. I can't believe he would think that I was...

But then again.

Maybe I did try to kill myself...

Due to my fucked up life, I wouldn't blame me if I did.

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Hey guys!
Uggghhhh I'm not really feeling this chapter but I tried. I couldn't write about anything else before the meeting b/c there wouldn't be much to write about and school's beginning so I wanted them to meet before that!
Well.. Whether or not they see each other again.. (;

Please comment and vote ! Thanks for reading my book. - <3