Chapter 19: Chapter 19

"You're lying to yourself, Dear Aries. Don't let false judgment put your feelings to rest, since in reality, you've always been the stubborn type. Come to understanding, things change—"

I slammed shut the computer screen with a jolt and sank back in the desk chair. "Oh, shut up."

Lying to myself? Lying about what? Sure, I told Jesse that I liked him by telling a lie – as confusing and odd as it seemed – but it was easier to say it like that.

Talking to Jesse might as well be the opposite of what I actually meant – I hate you was easier to say to him than anything else, because really, I'm used to telling him that. But nevertheless, I was dumbfounded at the fact that I actually lied about that. Only God knows how crazy he'll act now.

Only to add to my idiocracy, I told a lie I wasn't even sure of. And to make matters worse, I didn't even know whom the lie was directed to anymore. Do I hate him? Or do I like him? By now, the second one seemed to be in the lead, judging by my actions – my poor, silly, childish actions...

I kicked myself away from the desk, and let the desk chair glide across the wooden floor for a second. After sitting for a while and staring at nothing but the dark room, I got up, picked up my stuff, and walked out the door. While descending the stairs, I picked my hair up – disregarding the few strands that strayed away and fell in front of my eyes.

Passing by the living room, my dad was still asleep – not odd to see that he was still sleeping, since he usually woke up later. But I hadn't been able to sleep at all, so I decided leaving at six in the morning – even while it was still dark – would be a good idea. Maybe I could drive around for a while, and maybe if I'm lucky, run over someone.

You sound worse than a crazy person.

I quietly opened and shut the front door, being careful as to not wake up my dad, and crossed my arms from the cold temperature outside. I swung my bag in the open door of my car once I got to it, and straightened up my jacket before I could get in.

But then something screeched.

I looked up and saw a cat running away from a falling trashcan. Once it fell, I let out a small laugh, anxiety coating the awkward sound.

I looked down, getting into the car – but then stopped and shot my gaze back up.

On the side of the road, the faint shadow of a car was there – black, small, two-door, and one of the oldest and well cherished cars I've seen. The Camaro was parked on my street.

I shut the door to my car with wide eyes, and crossed my arms as I made my way to it. In the front of the car, I couldn't spot the key marks on the side of the door or the dried up residue of my mother's lipstick on the windshield – for a second, I started to think it wasn't even his car.

Until I remembered that he took it to get fixed, come to think of it, it has been a couple of days with it gone.

Walking over to the driver's side, I set a hand on the door, letting my fingers trail the paint. The car had been repainted surely, because not only was it as smooth and glossy as ever, but even in the lack of light, it still glinted from the barely working street lights.

With adrenaline shooting up through my veins, I looked up at the dark houses throughout the block, and then down the road for any sort of shadow – any form of life, besides the dumpster cat that was creeping around.

Someone sighed, and I immediately whipped my head around.

No way.

Jesse stood in front of the car, with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a dark hood over his head.

On one hand, I wanted to get straight to the point and attack him. But on the other, I wanted to let the police do their job and fine Jesse for trespassing and possibly ask to file for a restraining order if there were time.

"What're you doing here?" My voice came out breathless, since the cold wind was tearing me to pieces.

He looked up, glancing behind me at the breaking of dawn, and then at me again. "I don't want to get my hopes up."

I hesitated at his smooth tone. "So by not getting your hopes up, you decided wandering around my yard would help?"

He smiled. "No...well, I was going to climb up your window and strangle you in your sleep, but then I realized that torturing people was your hobby."

I rolled my eyes. "'People' is referring to more than one person, I hope you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I only torture you, you idiot."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or scared for my life."

I half-smiled, willing myself not to look too at ease with him here. "The scared for your life should do some good."

He made a face, and paused for a second before replying. "That's what confuses me when it comes to you." I met his eyes as he spoke, so I hadn't realized that he took a step toward me. "You made it clear that you don't hate me, meaning that you might even like me – but in the end, you still draw those stupid pictures of me dying."

Stand your ground, Carson.

"You and I both know that killing you would be for the greater good."

He stepped forward again. "You talk about it as if you say it all the time."

"Maybe I do."

I tried to look fearless – I really did, but the early morning twilight made his hair seem pitch black and his skin pale white. The only color I saw in his face was his eyes, almost crystal, but still a dark shade of sapphire.

"You just admitted to thinking about me, I hope you're aware."

Crap.

I didn't muster up a comeback on time, because his next step wound up in him standing in front of me. I would have backed up and made a run for it, but my back had been against the car since I first saw him.

Not again.

I saw his hand had come up, but instead of placing it against the car and cornering me in, he set it on a strand of my hair that had been twirling in the now freezing wind. As well as that single strand, he pushed aside the few remaining ones also, away from my freezing face.

Oh God.

I watched him with narrow eyes, finally finding out how to make my voice work again. "What're you doing?"

He didn't answer, all the while, that hand of his was giving me shivers. Along with the wind of course, since it seemed to be getting colder – I had half a mind to grab a scarf from inside the house. But with Jesse in front of me, I knew walking away like this was silly to even consider.

Jesse's hand let go of my hair, but only trailed lower, until he had a good enough grip on my neck. By this time, I had already raised my hands to push him away.

"Jesse, let go." My voice was stern, commanding yet soft at the same time.

He didn't even seem to hear me, obviously, since his response was to only hold onto me tighter and lean even more forward.

"Jesse?" I moved back, but it was a simple fact that I couldn't make dents in the car – or in other words: backing up into an immovable object was a silly idea. While staring at him as if I were dreaming, I felt his other hand at the small of my back, working its way down to my waist, easily predicting that he would slip his finger into my belt loops like last time.

Only this time, for the strangest of reasons, I couldn't move.

No. Hit him, knee him, scream – something!

I felt myself stumble forward when his hand tugged on my jeans, and in no more than a second, I was fully against him.

Not kissing him, but damn close to it.

He shifted slightly, letting the tip of his thumb trail over my lips. My nervous system seemed to be shutting down, because I would have told him to stop by now or even taken the chance and shoved him away to run free. Though, the moment he did that, I forgot all about violence – but for a second.

But then the idea vanished again, because the second I was about to raise my fist and go all out like my brother had taught me when I was fifteen, he kissed me.

Anticipating the kiss to be on none other than my lips, he aimed differently – making my mind shut down in the short time.

His warm lips made contact on my cheek. Soft as it seemed to be, I utterly and completely froze.

Not in the literal sense...yet, but frozen nevertheless.

It was rushed but also unhurried, and it felt as if he could stay in place and do it forever. I closed my eyes in content, feeling the burning nag in the back of my head screaming a series of profanities at me. Although the moment had been slow and not the slightest bit off, I internally hated how the wind basically slapped me in the face.

I had no doubts about snow at this point.

When my lack of response shot out to him, I felt him lean back. I opened my eyes, only to see him smiling at my expression. "Do you want me to drive you?"

His voice seemed to break through my pretenses, snapping me back into thinking again.

Don't look weak – it's what he wants. Hold out until he can't see you.

I turned my head to the side, seeing that the sun had come up halfway already. In a state of weakness, I couldn't even find my words.

Compose yourself, you moron! He's winning!

I looked back at him, letting my eyes deceive me by glazing in surprise, but my tone contradicted them by speaking with revulsion. I pushed him away and brushed past him, acting as if this encounter was nothing. "No. I'll drive myself."

It was as if I could feel him staring at me as I retreated to my car, but I had no intention on turning back around and finding out for sure. Though, when I finally started the car – I was barely able to see the curtains in the front of my house fall back into place.

Way to be nosy, Dad. There's no doubt he woke up Mom to watch with him.

On the way to school, I couldn't help but raise my hand to my cheek – letting my fingers trail where his lips had touched.

I smiled.