The Outcast Girl ✔

Chapter Six

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"I have come to realise that the people who pretend to care less, actually care the most."

-Kamoyrocks 😊

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Jace's POV

"Come on, just get in, I'm not a stranger." I say to Julia, who is looking at me with curiosity, as she stands in front of my car.

She actually looks cute standing there. Her sports jersey along with her jeans, and that red-plaid shirt that is always wrapped around her slim waist, its her natural style.... Everything about her amuses me. It broke my heart when I heard that her mom died, it most be so hard for her.

I don't like to see a frown on her face, it makes me frown. I hate to see her cry, it sends a sharp feeling in my heart. I like to see her smile. It makes me feel warm inside, hey that rhymed. I especially like to see her blush, its adorable. Even though I don't see the redness in her cheeks, I know she is blushing.

I don't like her accent, I LOVE her accent. Its unique, soft and graceful when every single word falls from her mouth. She doesn't talk to me much, but very soon she will get comfortable around me.

I just have to give her time...

"If I get loss, I'm personally gonna beat yuh up." she threatens, and I can't help but chuckle at her.

"Yes ma'am." I say and open the car for her. I jog over to the driver seat and hop in.

I turn on the air conditioner and can't help but inhale her scent, which I'm not gonna lie, love. She smells like baby powder...

Now don't think of me as a freak or something, because I'm not. I'm not one of those boys who quickly obsesses their self over some girl.
But, this girl makes me feel like I want to follow her everywhere....

I start the car and drove off smoothly across the road, focusing particularly on the road.

I take a swift glance at Julia, only to find her staring at me.
I came to a stoplight and turned, fully facing her.

"So, tell me about your self." I say and can't help but look into her dark brown eyes.

"Like what?" she asks. "Where are you from, what's your favourite hobby...you know, the basic things." I shrug

She looks at me curiously, as I start driving again.

"Well, mi is a multi-talented person, I am a Jamaican, an don't  wear dress." she says.

"Really? Why don't you wear dresses?" I ask.

"Because dem itch an I am a tomboy."

"Oh, so how are you enjoying it here so far?"

"Mi get bullied, mi hardly know the place...I can't learn nothing a da school here...let's skip to reality, a hate it."

"Can I show you around before I drop you off at home?" I ask and glance at her. She is still staring at me.

"Sure, as long as it means mi don't have to see that women, who calls har self a madda." she mutters, making sure for me not to here, but fail miserably.