Daughter of the Demon (I)

Daughter of the Demon-15-It Doesn't Compare

Chapter 15: It Doesn’t Compare

~Jacob~

Since I was sick and had nothing better to do with my time, I sat down at the computer in my room and contemplated how to begin researching a classic about Jemma. I didn’t know any classics. I mean, the only ones that came to mind were Black Beauty and Little Woman, but I hadn’t even read those and I didn’t think they corresponded to her life very accurately.

I truly had no idea where to begin.

Belinda.

I thought for a moment, then called for Belinda. She appeared in my room with a worried look on her face. “Yes?”

“Can you---can you help me for a moment?” I asked carefully.

Belinda just stared at me for a moment, but slowly she began to smile and walked over to where I sat, placing a hand on my shoulder. “What do you need help with?”

“Part of the project with Jemma is finding a classic that describes your partner. I have no idea where to start.”

Belinda tapped her fingers against her chin for a moment, then leaned over me and typed something into the computer. “Try this . . .” she muttered.

I looked at the screen and at the hits that showed up, and smiled. “That’s perfect.”

*****

~Jemma~

Jacob came back four days later, but so did someone else.

Another new girl.

Her name was Abigail Vienna, and she was beautiful. Plus, she was perfect, the complete opposite of me in every way, and I could tell she wanted Jacob from the first moment she laid eyes on him.

That unsettled me. I could never say why but it did.

Even worse she was in our English class.

She made goo-goo eyes with Jacob all class and wouldn’t stop looking at him. I ground my teeth together, and went through four pencils in at least half-an-hour. I snapped them in half one by one, throwing them to the floor by my feet. Abigail was newer than me and she already had so many friends. Angelina especially had become like her twin. They were inseparable, and I knew the main similarity between them was that they both were in love with Jacob.

English ended and Jacob stood up. I waited by the door so we could walk out together and maybe talk about the project, but before he could meet me Angelina and Abigail attacked him. My eye twitched. It seriously did. I  clutched my books tighter, walking away.

I sat where I usually did at lunch, minus the lunch. The wind was really kicking today and I couldn’t keep my hair out of my face or the pages in my book laid flat. I was aggravated before the wind. It was just making things worse.

“’Sup?” a disembodied voice asked. I looked up, but didn’t smile. I shook my head and returned my attention to my book.

Jacob sighed and dropped his backpack, sitting down beside me. I ignored him until his hand reached over and shut my book. I quickly slipped my hand in between the pages and glanced irritably up at him. “What do you want?”

“Why are you so grumpy?” He asked, poking my arm.

“I’m not grumpy,” I grumbled, scooting away, looking back down at my book.

“Really? You sure seem like it.”

“I’m not.” I reached up to push hair behind my ear for the hundredth time but Jacob caught my wrist, forcing me to look up at him. I did, and he appeared a little worried. He brushed the hair behind my ear for me and his eyes scanned my face.

“Are you . . . okay?” he whispered. “You know . . .”

I stared into his eyes. He didn’t have to finish it. He means, am I having any suicidal thoughts and/or feelings that could possibly lead to life-threatening actions. No, I wasn’t. “I’m fine,” I said so quietly I barely heard it. “Don’t worry.”

I wrenched my wrist away and snapped my book shut. Then two people came to stand beside me, and because this is my life we’re talking about I think we can all guess who they were.

“Hey Jakey,” Abigail cooed, sitting down beside him and grasping his arm. Jacob smiled and I bristled. I didin't know why I did. It was as uncontrollable as my suicidal urges.

“Hi Abby,” Jacob replied. Well, gosh. They’d already moved on to nicknames. That was fast.

Jacob turned to me awkwardly. “Um . . .Abby, this is Jemma. Jemma, this is Abby. My . . . girlfriend.”

I raised my eyebrows but didn’t say anything. So they had already met before this? They must have, because they looked too much like old familiar friends. I shoved my book in my backpack and yanked the zipper closed, standing up. I pulled it onto my shoulders and smiled a cold, elastic smile at Abigail. “Nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy Heart high school more than I have.” I rolled my eyes and began walking away.

“Jemma!” Jacob called. I turned around, the wind blowing my hair across my face. I gave him a stare so murderous I expected him to drop dead.

“Have fun,” I gritted out, and stomped away.

*****

~Jacob~

I didn’t know what had her so upset, but I couldn’t worry about that. Jemma would be Jemma, and there was nothing I could do.

I was ecstatic when I’d heard Abigail was moving back. Long ago in the land I called Seventh Grade, Abigail and I were a thing. We were perfect for each other. But then she moved away to California to be with her dad. She told me she’d move back again someday, but I hadn’t believed her. And, sure enough, four years later she comes back and we picked up where we left off. Abigail was still the same, except there was another variable in the equation this time.

Jemma.

I still didn’t know where I stood with her. She was my friend, and I was glad about that, but I still felt something whenI was with her. I had no clue whatsoever what it was because I'd never felt it before, but I thought it might be over-excessive worry. Seriously.  I'd never worried about anyone more in my life. I constantly thought she was cutting herself of trying to end her life or putting herself through needless misery or something. Yes, I was a worry wart, whatever. However much I hated it, worrying was my thing.

But now that Abigail was back . . . maybe I could give myself a little freedom with her. Let loose, have fun, and forget about . . .

Her.

“So I was thinking we go out tonight to Jake’s Shakes and catch up, maybe invite Angelina and Trevor to come with us . . .” Abby began.

“Sounds good,” I said quickly. Maybe too quickly. Abby looked at me funny and narrowed her eyes.

“Something wrong, Jakey?” she asked, rubbing her hand up and down my arm. I'd never liked that nickname.

“No, I’m fine. So, Jake’s Shakes? Sounds good. Pick you up at sevenish?”

Abby smiled. “Of course. Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” She leaned over and kissed me right on the mouth. I pressed my hand into the small of her back, not exactly kissing her back but not pulling away either. It felt good, but, oddly . . .

It wasn’t as good as CPR with Jemma.