I'm not very pleased with this chapter...*sighs*. I've been emotionally detached from everything lately because in exactly fifteen days I'm going to graduate...I feel so...old. And I'm not too excited to grow up either. Oh well, I haven't been myself lately that's all so I hope you guys like this anyway! It's not my best work but I'm going to try really hard to up my game. I know what I want to write and I don't have writers block. It's just a horrible case of old-itis. Ha. That was a dry, lame joke. Anyway, I hope you forgive me for this rant and I hope you guys like this chapter anyway! I promise not to write something so...eww, okay? I promise.
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********************7. Chances Are...
Blake’s POV
I woke up alone the next day. I remembered the details—vaguely though of me being all babyish and using Noah as a shoulder to cry on. Right now all I wanted to do was go to him and have him hold me tightly. This was so bad—Blake Deveraux—I, was not like this. I felt so alone. I kept on thinking of how he tensed up whenever I stirred and he would tightened his arms around me.
I was a girl who had plenty of nightmares. Not gory blood sucking ones with Bloody Mary or whatever—no. I had the nightmares of when my parents died. It happened again. And again. And again. It was horrifying. I woke up once or twice that night and I could feel Noah’s heartbeat racing as I tightened my hold around him. He’d tense up when I did that too.
I groaned when I got up. “Whoa, head rush.” I murmured to myself. I wondered what would have happened if Noah were here to sooth and relax me. I had a raging headache and I didn’t know why. “This sucks like hell.”
“Blake! You’ve got to go to school today, sweetheart!” I didn’t want to go but since the police visit, we’d been distant but I knew she was trying.
She wasn’t used to having a teenager just like I wasn’t used to having someone caring for me. But I responded to her. I nodded or shook my head when she asked questions but I limited what I would say to her. I didn’t want to snap at her and ask her why she didn’t tell me that my parents deaths weren’t accidents.
I nodded to myself feeling the rush slowly get out of my senses and got ready for school. After my quick shower and some quick applying of some eyeliner and mascara I started to look for clothes. I didn’t feel like being noticed—ever. Maybe my aunt would cut me some slack and let me wear clothes that would attract less eyes.
I ended up wearing faded blue, ripped jeans and a baggy, black Ramones singlet. There. I looked decent but I looked casual. Good. I didn’t want to leave my hair down so I quickly braided it to my side and grabbed my ray bans. Though I had a good sleep…with Noah being there, I had bags in my eyes from when I hadn’t slept.
After grabbing a piece of toast and kissing my aunt goodbye I left for school. I would have been late if I didn’t go now. Thankfully, Noah was already at school. How did I know? His black mustang was parked closest to the school, call me stubborn but I wanted to avoid him at all costs. So I parked at the spot furthest from him.
Getting out of the car, I put my Ray Bans on, shielding my eyes from the sorry sight before me. There were a bunch of girls scowling at me with Hayley—the head cheerleader I think, was glaring at me. I ignored them, holding onto my sling bag until I got to homeroom. The class was just about filling up and the teacher Mr Cross or something like that still wasn’t there so I sat the back. For a moment I closed my eyes, trying to savour the fact that noone was here pissing me off.
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His Lovely Delinquent *EDITING*
Mystery / ThrillerGood boy. Bad girl. Classic story of good boy falls for bad girl? Maybe not. If people knew who she really was, they would pity her. It's the one thing that she will never allow to happen. He can see past her bad girl exterior, the barriers she's...