Beyond my Beating Heart

Chapter Three: Friends?

Listen to The Monster by Eminem and Rihanna for this chapter
•
•
  I almost spit out my drink, but then I remember I don't have one. that was unexpected, me and Chris. Chris freaking Johnson.

"Touchy subject?" Jett asks.

"Yeah, um why do you ask?"

"I don't know, maybe because he called you Babe in the hall today."

"Oh, he was just being annoying!" I stammer as my palms begin to clam up.

Note to self: become a better liar.

"Okay then." He says, clearly not convinced by my lie, but lucky for me, he didn't push it further.

We sit in silence for a few minutes, me fiddling with my spoon. I look up and see his eyes, they remind me of rivers, captivating me and pulling me further into them. His dusty hair mostly swooped up, with a few strands falling out in front of his face. His eyes are soft, but his facial features are sharp and look like they have been sculpted by God himself.

"You have pretty eyes." I suddenly hear Jett speak up. I feel my cheeks heating up.

"What?" I ask.

"Your eyes, they're cool. Like emeralds." He says casually.

"I was thinking more like seaweed, but thanks."

"Well, seaweed is cool too." He says laughing, "Every Summer I go to my grandparent's beach house and look at all the greens, including seaweed!"

"You're funny." He states ever so suddenly.

I let out a small chuckle, "I can't believe you think I'm funny," Because he never did. He looked bewildered. Almost like he's in shock.

"Why? I think you're absolutely hilarious!" Jett booms.

"I don't know, nobody's ever said that to me before," I admit sheepishly. Of course, I have to ruin everything.

"Well, I just did." He says, sending a rush of happiness pulsing through my body.

"Hey, can I ask you a random question?" I ask. Not being shy.

"Shoot."

"Are we, you know, friends?"

"Well, I'd like to think so." He smiles.

--------

I am still trying to wrap my head around it, he was my friend. I finally had a friend again! I jogged over to my house, set down my bag and feed Rosie, quickly grabbing my jacket and phone before bolting outside. I run out into the woods and sit on my bench with my arms around the top of the bench.

I am strangely thinking about him more than I thought I would be. Breathing in the dewy air and feeling the wind dance beneath my knees brought a sort of calmness to my mind.

I begin to think about how judgmental people can be. Thinking that my life isn't under control. Thinking that I'm mentally insane. Have they ever heard of therapy and medication? Had they ever heard that the media screws up representation of mental health?

Everything is so out of place. Nobody knows the truth. And no one ever can. I need to protect myself from the world, from the pain of the people.