Waiting on You

Chapter 1

One year ago

I never stood out. I blended in, and the harder I tried to get out of this terrible habit, the deeper I fell into it.

I was the girl that sat in the middle of the classroom. Not the front with the teachers pets and the kids who lived off of attention. Not with the kids in the back who didn't listen, who were in their last couple years of school. I was the in between.

I hated being the center of attention. Sure, getting complements were nice, but that didn't count. Who doesn't like feeling good about themselves.

What I mean is the kind of attention that screams "desperate for recognition". The kind of attention that earns you admirers and haters. It's an obsession.

Of course it's sad, but it's comforting to think that no one will remember me. To know that I will die and not leave any embarrassing story on earth. To know that what I did right was focus on doing the right thing for myself.

But, when you are a freshmen in high school, it is hard to think this way all the time. You want to have friends to have sleepovers with, and you want to get recognized in the yearbook or the papers. This was me most of the time. This was one of my biggest flaws, at least to me.

I was a quiet, short, bland freshmen when he confronted me.

He was a vision. He looked unreal. I had seen him only a couple times before, and while everyone knew him, he didn't constantly have people swarmed around him like the quarterback of the football team. He had it just right.

"Do you always read depressing books?" He asked.

At first, I thought he was talking to someone else. But no. His bottle green eyes were placed right on my hazel ones.

I blushed slightly. "Not always."

He shrugs. "I've never seen you read a happy one. No Romantic Comedy's?"

My head was spinning. Had he been watching me? How did he know about the books I was reading?

We were both in the library in the school, near the history section. I sat here everyday during my free period.

"No, I guess not," I give him a small smile. Part of me wishes that he would go away and another part wanted him to stay.

"Why are you here?" I ask, looking around. "Are you being tutored?"

He gives me a lopsided smile and my heart skips. This boy was very handsome. He was a year older than me, but looked to be immortal, a god. He had honey gold skin and shaggy black hair that was slicker than ink. "I'm quite offended by that question, actually," he chuckles. "But, to answer your question. No, I'm not being tutored."

He pulls up a chair next to mine and lays down a book in front of me as he sits down. To Kill a Mockingbird.

"Have you ever read it?" He asks.

I shake my head.

"No? You should. It's very good." He says, flipping through the pages. The book looks very worn.

"Have you finished it?" I ask suddenly, looking at the pages, all dog-eared and torn.

"Why?" He asks. Stopping his hands and dangling them on the arm rests on his chair.

"Well," I begin, unsure if I should finish what I was starting. "How do you know if the book is good if you haven't finished it? For me, the ending of a book can change everything."

"Really?" He seems genuinely interested.

"I mean, do you say it's good because it's a classic, or because you actually enjoy the story?" I ask him, looking down at my hands.

The boy looks slightly shocked, and also impressed and horrified. "Well, both I guess," he finally answers.

I smile at him. In that moment, I knew that my life wouldn't be the same. That this spontaneous, handsome, popular, strange boy would change everything. And this time, my instincts wouldn't be wrong.

"What's your name?" He asks, leaning closer to me slightly, as if I was about to tell him a secret.

"Rory."

"Nice to meet you Rory..."

Suddenly the bell rings and he stands up.

"I'm Jacob."

With that he walks away without another word, and I wonder if I am supposed to chase after him, or yell or something. But I don't. I may end up doing that later in my life, but I do not yell to him that day in the library.

I had a secret, and it was him.

It was Jacob.