Jori Collections: 2017-2021

(5.30.17) Beck's Sacrifice - T, 4.6k [A]

[He wanted her in his arms, but she had to choose between him and Andre. Or, that's what Beck thought anyway. You see, as he discovers quickly throughout the day, she already made her decision, and it isn't either of them. So, just because he still loves her, Beck Oliver plays cupid for the two.]

Hollywood Arts had finally felt its first whiff of summer air. It was going by quickly, a little too quickly for some of the senior's liking. This school, as time went by through the years, had proved to be somewhat of a home. Nevertheless, it was still a school and, with anything, people grow out of it. People grow out of a lot of things and into new ones. For example, pants, shirts, shoes; you get the point. And then there are more emotional -not physical- clothing that one would grow out of. For instance the need to be with a motherly or fatherly figure and grow up. Other times it's friendships started in the second grade and, more often than not in a teen's life, romantic interests. Well, relationships really; some can have an eye out for someone for many years and finally get together. Their relationship can blossom from it, but die if it isn't properly treated with a green thumb. Though, there are those few who seek it out in their high school days and end up remaining with their lovers as a partner, fiancée and then spouse.

A car's beep cut through the calm breeze flowing against the school, heavy combat boots walking across the parking lot. Sharp, pale eyes swept through the small crowd in front of the door. The freshmen, as it turned out, startled once they had heard the familiar, coordinated steps. The stepped away from the entrance with ease, pale hands opening the door with a small nod of appreciation. Few of the main hall had halted their babble to give a quick glance at the long raven hair that fell over her shoulders, strands of dark green littered amongst it. Her hardened gaze flickered to them, promptly shifting their stare away before she strode to her locker, taking a coffee cup to her hands.

Her steps halted, however, behind one oblivious pair standing right in front of a locker almost obliterated with scissors. Pale eyes flashed menacingly at a pair of dark eyes which widened in response to the effective intimidation. "Come on, I think we should let her get to her locker," he muttered hastily, shifting aside with his buddy. She soon unlocked her locker and pulled it open, her hands brushing past the many textbooks and binders within it. As she searched for the first few periods' needed items, she tensed at the momentary force against her leg.

Her piercing stare glanced down at the small ball before shifting up towards the frozen sophomores. "Oh shit..." the girl gasped, blue eyes in contrast with her blonde hair widening, "I'm sorry Jade."

"It's fine," she growled quietly, tossing the ball with accuracy before going back to her locker.

Intimidation was how she had gotten around the school, Hollywood Arts. It allowed others to mind her space, acknowledging the message given. It gave her a harder shell, like a rock or like a mountain. That had sounded better in many's minds, that way a fortress could be placed upon the large rock, sealing away the emotions at bay. Tough, mean, gank, bitch and many others was what they had called her behind her back. Well, or so they tried; she could always hear them since Hollywood Arts has never been too able to keep secrets.

But she was. She wasn't a mountain, she was a volcano. Just under that rock hard surface was a storm of brewing emotions, able to lash out at any second. Sometimes it only boiled over, flowing down the sides that would be her detailed plans and acts of intimidation through schemes. Other times it would spew out, sending flaming ash with explosive, controversial, acts. She did other things too when the volcano overflowed, but that was to be seen only with closed doors.

You see, while she is still very intimidating to those who pay attention (God help those who didn't), underneath that rock hide of hers, her skin, was a lone, thumping heart knocking against her chest. 'Knock-knock... Knock-knock... Knock-knock,' was its rhyme, the same one that had tensed her hand, knuckles almost translucent against her pale skin whilst holding a textbook. It was only a reminder of how quiet she has been lately, only mumbling a few words here and there. '"Jade, who are you going to choose? Is it me or Beck, we need to know. We can't just be waiting for an answer like this,"' the voice played her mind once again, constricting her chest harshly.