Blame Me

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Jace

I couldn't concentrate on anything.

There were stacks of notes and textbooks around me, a half eating cheese burger, and my notebook open in front of me. Yet I could concentrate on none of it.

The only thing that ran through my mind was Elise as she scribbled furiously in her notebook answering math question after math question. Her eyebrow's scrunched together, her head bent slightly to the side, as she mumbled under her breath about the process of answering the math problem.

We were sitting in the corner booth of a small diner by Elise's house where the air smelt like grease and the leather seats stuck to your bare skin. In the attempt to make studying more bearable on my part, I had practically begged Elise to meet up to study with me.

"Are you going to do work?" Elise asked, looking up from her work to see me staring at her, "Because I think that was the reason we're here,"

I smirked at her, picking up one of her fries and plopping it into my mouth, "Nope, we're here so that I could eat this food and see your beautiful face,"

Elise rolled her eyes and closed her textbook and notebook, "Well I'm done studying for today,"

"Great, now I don't have to pretend to study anymore," I only half joked.

"Right, pretend," Elise drawled, "You did nothing, you liar,"

"Hey, hey," I cried out, "I did something, alright," I picked up some of the notes that I wrote down in the very beginning of the "study session". Which was around two hours ago.

"Okay, whatever you say rock star," she grinned at me, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, "We should probably get going, it's getting late,"

I sighed but nodded, it was getting late. The sun had already set and the street lamps were already gleaming. If there was school tomorrow I was sure that my mom would have had my throat by now even if I was with Elise, but thankfully exam break had started. So instead of drilling me to go to sleep on time, my mom was constantly on my back for studying. And people thought the life of musicians were glamorous, but sadly we couldn't be like Fergie.

"What's your favourite season?" Elise asked me as we walked out of the diner and into the cold night.

"Summer for sure," I told her without hesitation, "What about you?"

Elise said nothing for a bit, instead she looked up to the sky where light flurries were falling, "I like winter," she stated.

"Hmmm, I guess you're going to say the cliche line that 'you're not like other girls'," I joked.

She cracked a smile, "Of course I'm not going to say that, I'm painfully dull,"

Elise had no idea how special she really was. I couldn't imagine her as this dull person she was painting herself as now. She was different, but not in the way that everyone is trying shove down other people's throats to make them believe that their this special is one of a kind because they're so different than anyone else. She was different in the way that everyone was different, their dislikes and likes, their favourite anythings, their ticks and tricks, that was how she was different.

She was different because I fell absolutely and undoubtedly in love with all of her that I knew, and all of her that I would come to know. I was infatuated with the things that made her different and the things that made her the same. I loved her because she was Elise Bedell, a girl that I couldn't have had even come to understand without spending years by her side observing her every move. And I wanted to do that, grow old memorizing her very presence on this earth.