THE THIRD P3RSON

•Chapter 10•

To my surprise, Ryan stayed quiet the entire time I struggled to speak. Honestly, I didn't think he cared but every time I looked at him, he was listening. He added in what he thought at times, keeping it short with a nod to show he was still listening to make sure I knew he was serious about knowing. He wanted to me to know he cared.

I was telling him the incident in vague details. I answered some of his questions and I stopped when it reached too much. Ryan seemed to understand I had reached my limit.

I guess I was right. Grey did raise the guy the right way. Because of that, I trusted Ryan a lot more than I thought I would.

"The school's drug dealer has a rough past." He must be thinking, still holding on to the rumor that I gave drugs to the shady people in our school.

I didn't believe that he really thought like that, not anymore, but the possibility of him thinking it made it feel like an arrow shot through my heart.

I told him I was going to head out. I told him what I felt conformable with and he was taking the information in.

Ryan opened his mouth to say something. Instead, he thought better of it and nodded. "Good night then, Julianna. Drive safe."

I waved at him, yelled a farewell to Grey, and left.

What had happened four years ago is slowly becoming something I'm accepting that happened but still blamed myself for.

But then we have the famous duo: Ryan Miles and Christina Olivens.

I'm sure I'm not the only one from our old middle school who's seen how he's looked at her for years. I mean, everyone knows how he feels about Christina. We've been watching everything unfold for years. The Valentine's Day presents, the Christmas cards people made for friends- he's always done something big for her. I'm sure girls in our school are just waiting for him to move on.

The fact that he told me it to my face... I guess that counts for something. It would crush him if he fully chooses to accept the fact that Christina didn't feel the same. I realized that years ago. It seems to be hurting him watching her have a boyfriend who she chooses over him. It's forcing him to move on.

"These are things we need to add to that essay, Jones," I told myself, stopping at a red light. "Christina has had a superfan since seventh grade."

When I looked out the window, I noticed that the houses were getting less fancy. Almost there then.

My window was down, the slight breeze was calming after a long day.

A group of teens were in front of the church that was next to the police station to my left. They were on their phones with friends cheering them on to "catch 'em." The one that caught my attention was the kid who yelled they caught a Mewtwo.

"Shouldn't have said that." I murmured, smiling. I laughed when they realized they said it out loud and ran from the group of kids who wanted to see.

"No!" The kid yelled. "Careful, guys! You're going to transfer him by accident!" He screeched.

The police officer that was watching the group got up to see what was happening. The light turned green and I drove.

In a house with two stories (ha), a light was on. The whole white house with princess rim or whatever stands tall with power that the people inside didn't have. It looked so perfect that it would give someone the impression important people lived there. A BMW that had so many alterations so the driver could feel rich was parked in the driveway, away from thieves who didn't know better.

A shadow passed by the window in the bedroom on the first floor and I gave a helpless sigh that turned the car's peaceful mood into a sour one.

Stepmonster Amy is home and awake. Oh, joy.
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As soon as I stepped inside, the woman who made me hate life appeared. She stood tall with her hands on her hips. Wearing her gray suit with the famous pencil skirt, she stood there looking at me with forest green eyes that were full of disdain. Her body, unlike mine, was so tall and skinny she resembled a twig. Yet despite that, with one glance you could tell she was born into the fashion world. Her pose was proper and her words were the definition of lady-like. Her makeup was still on but she would look horrible otherwise. Her blond hair cascaded down her shoulders perfectly like they were held in place by gravity itself.

Even after seeing her outer beauty, her inner personality was the whole reason I kept my opinion of her.

No matter how beautiful someone is on the outside, you should always know how they really act without the make-up. In Amy's case, she was plain and ugly.

"Julianna, I know school ended hours ago. Why did you come home now?" She questions me.

You think that's worry in her voice? Think again.

She looks down at the phone in her left hand. "God forbid if someone from the rival team saw you outside my house at this hour."

I didn't want to tell her about the project. She would try to pay Miles to let me out of the project. I avoid her gaze while holding my backpack in front of me. "I had to do something."

She scoffs but her posture remains professional the entire time. Nothing in her tone was motherly or worried. I was proven right when she clicked something on her ear. She turned around, her blonde hair spinning perfectly with her body as she walked back towards her office. The fashionista had more work to be done. "Yeah, Rubio, darling. The stepdaughter just walked in, could you believe it? She wasn't even wearing the Sapphire Scarf by Gabriel-..."

I walked up the stairs, the hole in my heart reopening. I knew what to expect and that was it.

My hand passes a spot on the wall where a picture of my childhood family would have been. I miss my mom.

I shake to clear my head. It's been two years. You could forget about it. Think about the project.

You'll be out of here soon, Julianna. Hang in there.