Hearts ✓

Twenty - Five 💕

Hey everyone, so, the original draft of chapter twenty-five was deleted, because apparently there were some saving issues. So, here is a re-write. I still have the basic idea of the chapter, so it's the details are written on it that has changed.

Thanks,

S

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This is what you do to me

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My phone lingers in my hand, it's quivering and shivering, I can't decide which. I'm one call away from literally anybody, but yet, time stops and my hand simply freezes.

I don't know what to do, I really don't. One minute, I'm having the time of my life, a little magical ball of sunshine splashed onto me spreading as fast as fire, the next, all of that happiness is sucked back into a colossal void never to be seen again, and at that moment, I realize that all of this could be fake.

These are one of those few moments when everything goes straight to my head, unfortunately, and I find myself hesitant. Classic, just classic.

My brain is dizzy, that's for sure. I know I'm in my house, but I don't know where. I know it isn't dead silent, too. Somewhere in this house, a person is blasting heavy metal, and that person is not Lauren because she too is screaming at the unnecessary amount of noise resonating the halls at this very moment.

Suddenly, someone shrieks my name, but then I realize, they're not shrieking, the voice is yelling for me, but the sound of the what seems to be an ear-piercing scream never leaves my head. I stay silent though, my family knows better than to unwittingly assume that I'm depressed.

Here's the thing, I wanted to call Jake. Wanted, past tense. I did because hanging out with him has become a part of my newly established routine, and I tend to look forward to it. Every time I'm around him, he makes me feel as if my soul is being lifted from all my problems, a solution to every burden I'm carrying. His contact is flashing brightly on my screen, I can't seem to make up my mind, there's the dare, and there's everything surrounding that.

Here's what my brain comprehends: I enjoy hanging out with Jake, and, that is exactly the problem.

I don't say that I'm addicted, I don't say how Jake is a piece of nicotine that I've tasted and can't get enough of. Although, I can very much say that his presence is, in fact, nicotine. That, I am addicted to.

I notice an ice pack laying on the corner of some sort of square-like table, and that's when I realize I'm not in my room, I happen to be lying on the couch. The television is switched off, and the remote control isn't anywhere in my vicinity. So I assume that I was watching something before completely dozing off and someone, presumably my sister switched it off for me.

As an emotional and hormonal teenage girl, I feel the tears fill up in my eyes. Like every girl, I dream a for a 'normal life', but what is the definition of 'normal'? Is it what we see on those dramatic shows about stereotypes? The dare is your first heartbreak, it takes away your first kiss, your first love, and your first chance at something real.

My brain wanders back to the past week or so, and I realize how much more I've smiled, how much happier I've felt, the way I skipped happily as I drove myself, or walked home. It hits me like a spur of the moment. I'm starting to fall in love with Jake.

At this point, I've moved so that I'm currently sitting upright with my head spinning uncontrollably. I seem to have a lot more of these lately, player problems. A note sits comfortably next to the ice pack, and its' certainly not from my mother. If it isn't written, Harvard Style with Times New Roman, 12, then it isn't from my 'dearest mother'.

Jake.

Disappointingly, it's not a note, and it's not from Jake, it happens to be a card with my name written in neat cursive on the front, and there's a mighty amazing drawing on it as well, although this might seem like its' from Taylor, it's the fact that I thought about Jake instantly is painful. Instantly, my heart begins to throb unsteadily again.

Jake's contact page is still flashing brightly, but I resist the urge to press 'call'. Instead, I snatch my phone from some invisible force and I dial the numbers of the people I know won't trick and mind twist me, the few I trust.

Both Lauren and Aubrey don't pick up, so instead, I send them both a text message containing only a subject: help

I knew that if they knew what the message meant, they would be at my door within moments, my forehead was sweating, I hope they did.

This is what you do to me, Jake. This is what you do to me.