Chapter 1-
I brushed my long blonde, almost white, hair trying to keep the fly aways down; my hair was half up, half down. I had to look “the part” as my father called it. I was meeting with top colleges to discuss “how I could help them and not how they could help Me.” my father wanted me in a ivy league school even if it killed me. Always had top grades, friends from good families, extra after school activities. “Only the best Jessica! Only number one!” he drilled that into my brain for as long as I could remember. It means like I couldn’t get away from it. I had to be the best and if I didn’t do what was best I have no blue what my father would do to me…
“Jessica! Get down here if you don’t eat soon then you won’t make it on time!” my father called from the kitchen. I straightened my black pinstriped skirt and took a last look at myself. My hair was perfectly in place, my crisp white shirt freshly ironed, and my skirt hitting right at the spot that makes my legs look long but not trashy. “Let’s get this day over with…”I mumbled to myself. I ate a quick breakfast of yogurt and fruit because “father knows best.” I rolled my eyes and got into my classic Camaro. Thankfully my father gave enough crap about me to get me a car I loved. I drove the speed limit, checked my mirrors, and used my blinker. Always following the rules…
“Ok Ms. Johns why should we enroll you to our school?” another pointless interview asked. I gave him one of my speeches saying my major is important to everyone, psychology, and how I’m gonna study a field that’s small so I’ll be one of the first ladies that has a doctorate in this. BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. This is the seventh college interview I’ve been to and the seventh time where they loved me. it honestly does get pointless. I don’t wanna be a psychologist I want to make art. Any art to be honest; I just want people to look up and know that’s Jessica Johns’ work, but that’s not what my father wants he wants me to be some famous psychologist. He never listens to me and doesn’t give a damn. “Ms. Johns?” the interview said, clearing his throat. I shook my head and excused myself to the bathroom.
I splashed some cold water on my face and took down my hair. I tried to find myself behind the fake smile, perfect haircut and couldn’t. This wasn’t me. I ran out of the bathroom and started running. I had no clue where I was going but I was gonna run. Run away from my father; run away from colleges; run away from the girl who wasn’t me; run away from the fake friends that I had; run away from the shitty preppy clothes that filled my closet; run away from the life that was already planned for me.
Before I knew it was dark and I ran full force into a tall guy. “Oh shit! I’m so so sorry.” I said helping him to his feet. “It’s ok.” He said giving me and easy half smile. He was tall, and had a chiseled jaw line that was strong yet soft at the same time, he had longish hair but it wasn’t shaggy it looked nice. HIS EYES! His eyes were piercing blue and so beautiful I couldn’t take my own eyes off of them. “You ok?” I said slowly. “I’m perfectly imperfect my dear.” He said. His voice was husky; he has a smoker’s voice but not an ugly one. It was smooth and lovely. I gave a small laugh and realized how sweaty and gross I was. Oh god this would happen now! “You alright?” he asked looking me up and down. My heart froze. “Yeah I am.” I said mostly to myself than to him. He looked me up and down and said “you look like you could use a drink”. “But I’m underage…” I started. “So am I.” he said winking at me. he took me by the hand and led me to the back door of the bar we were standing by…
I should be scared being with a stranger but for some reason…I felt perfectly fine…
