The Suicide Girl [Completed]

Chapter 45: The Deal

"What happened?" Miss Tanner asked when she caught me spitting out water.

"I accidentally bit my tongue too hard that I started bleeding," I replied quietly. The lie slipped through my lips like nothing, and I felt it affect my chest, guilt enveloping it. "It's nothing compared to the last few days though, so I will be fine."

Miss Tanner raised an eyebrow at me. "Okay then.." The doorbell rang, and she brightened up. From what I analyzed, Miss Tanner probably hadn't seen him in a long time, as he had a career that may have taken him all around the world. "Oh, that must be Jonas!"

She swiftly walked over to the door, and opened it. The man who entered was definitely Jonas Tanner. In the books I've read, there was always a little ending in the book where Jonas would have an excerpt of his autobiography. A picture would tag along with the excerpt. He had black hair, with a huge bushy beard. An old and rusted Polaroid hung from his neck. Unlike most of Tristan's family, Jonas had brown eyes. At first, he didn't seem to notice me and hugged his sister-in-law tightly, trying to calm her down as she looked like breaking.

His eyes glazed over me, and he walked over, putting out a hand. "Jonas Tanner. I assume you're the girl Tristan slipped on his ass for on multiple occasions?"

I nodded and shook his hand, ignoring what was his attempt to make me crack a smile. His grip was firm and almost comforting. Jonas sat down at the dining table, as did Miss Tanner and I. The two adults had a conversation on family memories as I sat there, eating the delicious lasagna. There was a cluster of memories being thrown around, tossed into the air and caught by the other. The aura from the adults seemed enlightening, but it was only blocked out by my pain.

"Remember when Tristan fell off that swing and Clarissa caught him?"

"Ha! The poor boy was bawling his eyes out."

"Ooh, what about that time when—"

"—and then he—"

"—a classic!"

In that moment, I wanted to walk away. They seemed to have forgotten that I was there, investing into their own little world. It was at that moment that I realized I had no right to love Tristan. My fork picked at the leftover lasagna on my plate. I still don't know much about him. I don't even know if his father is alive, because I've never seen him. I don't know a lot about his family. I.. I took up most of his early high school years and filled them up with a bunch of my own bullshit. A frown hung on my face. I don't have any right to love Tristan. He was probably blinded by something to have kissed me and said that he loved me.

"I have no right..." I murmured to myself.

I didn't think Miss Tanner and Jonas to have heard me, but apparently, they did. Jonas cleared his throat loudly, obviously trying to steer Miss Tanner's attention away from me, her worrying gaze lifting off of me to look at him.

"Let's get down to business," Jonas said, putting his hands on the table. His beard was full of tomato sauce and cheese, but he ignored it. His brown eyes flashed to me, making me look back. "You're Cheryl Faun, the sensation of the world right now."

"More like my school, not really the world," I replied bluntly. A poker face was sewn onto my head as my grey eyes blankly stared at him. "But please, do continue."

Miss Tanner watched with her eyes bright, her ears listening. .

"I do find that being a teenage sensation would be troublesome," he implied, "so I have an idea that will help both you and me."

I raised my eyebrow at him, unconvinced by his bold statement. "I'm sorry," I apologized, shaking my head, "but I don't think this is a good idea. Anyone who tries to help me ends up with more than they can carry." A startled look struck Jonas.

"I haven't elaborated much yet," he protested. He looked at me intently. "Give me one shot at this."

I remained quiet.

He took this as a sign to speak. "Because you're getting attention, many people, especially reporters, can twist the story a lot. Sometimes, the whole world won't know the whole story." He paused to let the words sink in. "I suggest that you and I work together on a book. Based on your life. You will be the idea, I will be the author. I will not bend your words; I will only make it into a detailed book. You say when it starts, and when it ends. If we do start but you don't feel comfortable with it anymore, you can cut it off."

Jonas then stopped talking as the words circled my brain. Miss Tanner held onto my hand, and I looked towards her. She smiled sweetly, making my heart lean. "Remember, we aren't forcing you to do this. It will be according to your own will."

"Exactly," Jonas added.

I didn't even give it a second thought. "I do apologize, sir," I said, standing up to my feet. My hands were planted onto the table as I stood up, letting my arms keep me on my feet. "I really do. But I don't think I can go through with this deal of yours."

"Do you have any reasons you find wrongful?" Jonas asked, intrigued.

I shook my head, my hair flying. I stared him right in the eye. "No. It's not because of the deal. But it feels more wrong because a person who plays a crucial role in my story isn't breathing anymore." Miss Tanner's shoulders dropped a little. "I do think this is a good idea— in fact, it could solve many of my problems— but I do not find that it will solve the problem I'm struggling with inside of my heart and mind."

The adults looked at me questionably. I sighed and put my hand over my beating heart, letting it beat against my hand. I looked up at the ceiling and closed my eyes, saying, "It's weird. There's a.. feeling within me. It won't let me do this." I looked at them and put my hand down. "This is a great idea, sir, but I won't do it. Not without Tristan breathing in front of me, alive and well."

Jonas comprehended my words, and he stood up as well. "If I understood correctly, you will not do this without the live presence of Tristan, correct?"

I nodded. "That is correct."

Jonas Tanner put his hand out. Though they weren't the same color, his brown eyes sparkled just as well as the other Tanners. "Young lady, I do accept this challenge of yours. The deal will be changed: Unless Tristan Tanner is alive and breathing before your very eyes, you will not pull through with this book."

Doesn't he already know that Tristan is dead? Of course he does. My hand clasped his, and I shook it with all of my remaining confidence.

"Good luck, sir. You'll need it."