We Don't Talk Anymore

Chapter 7

Jonathan's P.O.V.

Walking home in this weather is a drag. I missed the bus so I had to walk home. The rainy weather was the way I felt. Gloomy and sad.

Just then, I heard a motorcycle rev up. Looking over, I see a guy with a black leather jacket along with skinny jeans, boots and a black motorcycle helmet. It seems like he was staring at me. I knew it was the guy who saved me from the school bully, Kevin.

I put my hood up and just continued walking. I tried to ignore him but he came up to me on his motorcycle.

"You shouldn't be out here," he says/shouts.

"Why shouldn't I?" I asked.

"It's raining. It's cold, you could get sick," he says.

I looked at him and gave him a suspicious look, "Who are you? And why do you care?"

"Someone who's trying to be a friend... Hop on."

"What?! You think I'm going to get on that thing?"

"It's not a thing... it's a motorcycle. And I have an extra helmet," he says while grabbing one, "now, get on."

I looked at him for a second but took the helmet. I got on and he started to rev up his motorcycle again.

His scent and cologne was oddly familiar. It was something I recognized. I don't know where or who it was but I know I've smelt it somewhere before.

We finally arrived to my house, which was confusing because I've never given him my address.

"How'd you know where I live?" I asked.

"I, uhh, kind of watched you walk before," he says.

"Oh... cool."

He followed me up to my front door. I turned to him and tried to see his eyes.

"Who are you again?" I asked.

"I, uhh," he cleared his throat, "I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

He moved closer to me, causing me to blush and back up to my door.

"Cause I'd rather you find out for yourself and see what you've decided."

With that he turned away to his motorcycle and started it.

"I'll see you at school... Jonathan," he finally say before leaving.

I stood there for about five minutes before I went in. I couldn't get what he was saying. My thoughts were interrupted when my phone went off. I looked down to see that someone was calling.

"Evan Fong is calling..."

I wanted to cry so I threw my phone. I cried for hours before I started to cut myself again. This time I put a name.

'E  V  A  N'

That's when I went to sleep with two things on my mind.

'Evan and Motorcycle Boy.'