✞CHAPTER 3- NOT GONNA CRACK✞

101 10 0
                                    

"I'm so happy cause today I found my friends they're in my head. I like it I'm not gonna crack. I miss you, I'm not gonna crack. I love you, I'm not gonna crack. I killed you, I'm not gonna crack"
              ~"LITHIUM" NIRVANA

OCTOBER 21, 1997
6:07 AM

My eyes fluttered open, welcomed by the fresh morning light, created a nice warm blanket across my face. But there was also a comforting cool feeling. Tate's arm still securely draped around my torso like a tight seatbelt. I gently, turn over, stroking his arm. "Tate, wake up its morning." My voice still a low whisper from sleeping. His eyes blink open, adjusting to the sudden light. He smiles noticing I'm still beside him. "I've got school this morning." I groan, sitting up. Tate joins me, sitting straight.

"Westfield?" I nod. "Good luck, I'm sure you'll make some friends." A frown creeps upon my face. "Friendship isn't one of my strong points." I hop off the bed and go to the closet, in search for the days outfit. "I'm sure they'll love you." Tate expresses, joining my side. He glances at me, then the plethora of clothing. He skimmed through, gently caressing the fabric. He pulls out a black and white striped shirt, some of my ripped jeans and some converse.

"You should wear this." He smiles, handing me the stack of clothes. "Sure." I return the smile,taking the fabrics into my hands. Tate plops onto the edge of the bed, the dimples visible on his pale cheeks. "Eyes closed." I giggle, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. Tate swings his arm so his hand covers his eyes. I turn my own body, fingering around for the string to the nightdress. I fumble trying to untie the solid knot I had created.

"Umm Tate? Some assistance." I crane my neck over at the boy. I see him slightly peeking, like someone watching a horror movie. "Pervert." I chuckle. He gets up off the bed, standing behind me. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it." He chuckles, fingers grazing against my neck. Gently brushing my hair to the side. The weight of the nightdress flutters to the floor, like a gentle blanket. His hand grazes my shoulder with such a light touch.

Fingers running down my pale arm, goosebumps dotting every single touch. "So gentle." Tate's whisper barely audible to the human ear. He stops for a second, I can feel his breathing against my neck. Never once had I wanted a pair of lips so badly. He backs away onto the bed. "S...sorry." I pull the shirt over my head. "You did nothing wrong Tate." I smile at him. "Iris, time for school!" My mother hollers up the hall.

I sling my backpack over my shoulder, Tate joins me in standing up. He hesitates for a moment then pulls  me into his arms. "Stay safe." His words said into the top of my head. "I'll be back in a few hours. Then we can do something fun." I smile. Heading for the door, I look back. He looks genuinely sad and before I can walk out, he grabs my arm. Peeling off his flannel shirt, he drapes it over my shoulder. "So you have me with you." Voice soft and gentle. My mouth spreads into a smile, as I pull the shirt tighter to my body.

As soon as I step into the car I already can't wait to get back home. I'm beyond excited to get to know Tate better and to show him my cassette collection. He looks as though he appreciates good music. Speaking of that I have to put on my Walkman before I have a full blown panic attack. There's nothing more I hate than high school. Especially being in a new one. The others were just sorta getting used to me being...well me. I lean my head against my forearm, rested against the door. The faint smell of Tate radiating off the shirt into my nostrils. The scent of firewood and the slight moodiness of the houses' basement. Even a hint of some sort of body spray. Whatever it is, it's extraordinary. It belongs to him.

Tate sat atop the girl's bed. Slightly elevated by the puffiness of the bedspread. He disliked the emptiness that he quickly, effortlessly felt. No longer did the boy feel the warmth of her body. The velvety softness of her skin. The blonde boy sank back into the bed, he knew he could smell her off the pillow. The aroma of her shampoo. Sweet vanilla and peaches. Maybe it was strawberries or some other lusty fruit.

✞IRIS ➳ TATE LANGDON ✞Where stories live. Discover now