"The Sketcher." (A Jacksepticeye Story.)

Comfort

"I hope I can be here. As a voice, As a friend, while playing video games for you. If you feel lonely or depressed or anything like that..Jack is here."
- Sean William McLoughlin

Chapter Six

    Jack drove down the street, the radio playing quietly in the background. He glared through the windshield, his mind somewhere else. He didn't understand why they couldn't just leave Amber alone.
All she wanted was to fit in, and his friends were making that impossible. He felt horrible for how she's been treated lately. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out to see. His eyes shifted from the road to his phone to read the message.

"Where did you go dude? We have a game to play tonight! Your supposed to be here before the party!"

Sighing, he tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and continued driving after making up some excuse to text back to him.
Jack watched the windshield wiper smear the water and then disappear from view. It was a steady rain and Jack felt bad for Amber having to walk all the way home in it. He could have drove her home.
He parked his car in his driveway, looking over at Amber's house. It looked empty, but he knew Amber had to be in there somehow. He got out, jogging lightly to get out of the rain. He wiped his face dry and knocked on the door.

No answer.

   He leaned over and peered into the window, finding nobody inside. He pursed his lips, scratching his head and knocking again. When nobody answered the second time, he decided to head around back.
His footsteps splashed the puddles beneath him, sending a spray of mud and water at his ankles. He ducked under the side of the house, feeling rain trickle down his back.
He peeked into the backyard, finally spotting Amber. She was sitting cross legged on a chair, her sketchbook open on her lap. He climbed over the fence, trying to stay quiet.
The rain seemed to silence his footsteps. She was looking at her notebook, oblivious to Jack. Her hands were lazily strewn in her lap, her sleeves occasionally rising to wipe her cheeks.
She shook her head and threw down her sketchbook. It landed beside her on the ground, no doubt getting wet. Her hands were clenched and she hopped out of her chair and started pacing back and forth.
He could see the anger forming on her face. Her eyes narrowed and her lip curled into a scowl. Jack watched silently, his lips pulling into a frown at the sight.
Suddenly, she let out an angry cry and punched the wall behind her. Jack gasped and decided it was time to reveal himself. She finally heard the footsteps and turned to see Jack. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and she stumbled back.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Amber asked, her eyes widened and her lips parted.

   Jack didn't reply at first, scooping up the sketchbook quickly and pointing towards the back door. He slipped it in his jacket, protecting it from the rain. They were both standing in it at this point, getting drenched to the bone.
He motioned towards the door again, waiting until Amber blinked a few times and realized what was happening. Amber hesitated, opening the back door and leading him to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry." Jack said to Amber, watching Amber's hands tremble.

   Their clothes were dripping, making little puddles along the floor. Amber sniffed, looking down at her sore hand. She shook her head, clenching her fist and wincing.
Jack frowned and grabbed a cloth resting on the sink, running it under the water before turning towards Amber. He went to take her hand when she pulled back a little, looking up him. Her knuckles were scraped a little, spots of blood here and there.

"I'm fine, really. I'm fi-"

   Jack cut off Amber's attempts at stalling by grabbing her hand and pressing the cloth against it gently. She pulled back slightly, but watched him clean the blood and dry her hand off.
Amber could see the empathy in his eyes. She didn't know whether to be grateful or resentful of it.

"I have no idea why my friends are doing this to you. I can never understand this invisible war between the 'popular' and the rest of the school. It's so childish and so frustrating."

   She clenched her fists again, ignoring the slight discomfort. She glared at Jack, backing away from him. She knew the little game they were all trying to play on her. She was tired of it, this was the last straw.

"You know what? You got me! Ha ha, so funny. You can drop this little game you're playing. Look, you guys got what you wanted. Ha ha, let's see if the new girl can be tricked and fall for the popular jock. Let's see how much we can play with her until she breaks.
Let's see how long it takes. Well, guess what!? You win! I fell for you! Congratulations!" Amber was raising her voice at this point, her eyes filling with new tears.

Jack didn't know what to say, her sudden anger shocked him. A game? Is that what she thinks I'm doing to her? That I'm just like everyone else?
Amber continued her rant as Jack looked down at the sketchbook he laid on the counter. It was beat up on the corners, and ruined in other places.
He looked back at Amber, she was waiting for an answer. He wanted to make her feel better for what she's been through. All he wanted to do was get to know her, maybe even know her as more than friends. Maybe. 
In this moment, all he wanted to do was comfort her. So, being the person that he was, he gripped her wrist and pulled her towards him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. He heard her gasp softly, her body tensing up. She even started pulling away, but suddenly stopped.

Seconds ticked by before he felt her arms go around his neck, and finally hug him.