The Treehouse Club {On Hold}

Chapter Five // Jessie

JESSIE

The deep green eyes of Johnny Bakerman meet mine for only a second before he ducks under the treehouse window. That's odd. What is Johnny doing hanging around in an abandoned treehouse at 12 AM? On a school night? I guess I can't really judge, seeing as I'm kinda of doing the same thing.

Focus, Jess, focus.

Focus, right. What was I doing again? Oh yeah, breaking the law. I seriously hope no one's at the abandoned house; I'm not in the mood to share space today, and I've got a really cool design planned. I want it to be a surprise.

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I make it to the abandoned house a little after midnight and, luckily, there's no one inside. You may think I'm just being paranoid, but you'd be surprised by some of the things I've walked in on here. You never know what you're gonna find. That actually part of the reason I like it: It's unpredictable. Sorry, was that hypocritical?

Geez you're getting distracted easily today. Focus. You've got a job to do.

I stand there staring at the blank section of the wall in front of me and smile. Only thing better then a beautiful painting is a blank canvas. Trust me, I know. That picture has already been decided, its future already been determined. The blank canvas, however, could be anything. There isn't a limit to its potential. And that's what makes it beautiful. In my eyes, at least.

I swivel my shoulder so I can grab a paint can out of my bag. I pop the cap and give it a good shake before beginning my design. A blank canvas may be beautiful, but I happen to have the unfortunate talent of ruining beautiful things.

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Two hours later, I clear the last bit of paint from the corner of my masterpiece and pull my bandana away from my face, Immediately coughing and sneezing on the excess paint fumes. On the wall beside me, in giant block letters are the words Society Killed the Teenager. True, don'tcha think? I sketched the design out in my notebook earlier today.

I stand and observe my little mural for a while longer, critiquing every line. I like how the bright colors stand out against the dull color of the bricks. This is definitely my favorite painting I've done so far.

When I've finished my critiquing my artwork, I pack up and head out. No need to stick around this place longer than necessary, and though I'm in no rush to be home, I really do need to sleep. There's a long day of hating my life ahead of me in the morning, and trying to play Day Jess drains a lot of energy.

By the time I get back to my house I'm almost stumbling under the weight of my huge backpack. Needless to say the moment I'm up the fire escape, through my window, and in presentable pajamas, I'm already asleep.

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Beep Beep Beep

I sigh deeply. What a better way to start off a horrible day then awaken to that noise smashing a hammer into your skull.

Day Jess takes over and leads me through the motions of my everyday life. What would I do with out her?

Get Up, Shower, Suppress Night Jess, Dress, Hair, Suppress Night Jess, Makeup, Breakfast, Suppress Night Jess, Mother's Lecture, Car Ride to School, Suppress Night Jess.

I can see where the exhaustion comes from.

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Seven hours of pure torture later and I'm walking toward the campus exit with some of my friends. We just got out of a Student Leadership meeting, and my Mother is probably waiting outside the school to pick me up for piano. The afternoon is the only thing standing between me and another pinch of freedom.

I wonder if Johnny will be in the woods again tonight.

I mean, I don't care if he is, but for some reason I couldn't get that idiot out of my head today. I know I should just leave it alone. After all, I wouldn't want anyone asking me what I do at night, but there's something about that boy and I can't put my finger on it.

What on Earth was he doing in the woods? I think as I walk past the library. There are three kids in there for detention today, and they look like the usual crowd, so I barely spare them a second glance. But it's just as I'm about to past the doors that I notice a fourth figure in the room.

Speak of the Devil. I was so busy trying to avoid seeing too much of the girl sitting in front of him that I hadn't noticed he was there until she leaned under the table to reach her bag.

Who knows what he's done to get in trouble this time, but whatever it was, it was enough to land him in detention.

He's just sitting there, with his feet propped up on the table, flipping through a comic book. His shoes are still muddy from whatever he was out in the woods doing last night. I should really ask him about that; it's beginning to bug me. I mean he must have had a reason. I did, but I can't even begin to imagine his.

I tell my friends I'll catch up with them later and step into the library, making my way towards Johnny. I know the universal rule is "Stay outta my business and I'll stay outta yours." But the question is taking over my mind.

"What is that boy hiding?"