Chapter 63: Kiss Me Even If You Shouldn't

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UNEDITED

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Okay this a very very long chapter (193 pages on my Itouch)  so do me a favor and read it slowly so it lasts a long time? If you don't like long chapters, then a) how have you come so far through this book?

B) Break it into parts so that you can read it over a long time.

The end is near! Only a few more chapters left. Finally. Rejoice this book is finally getting over.

So here goes.

WARNING: If you haven't figured it out yet 14-year-old Jake cusses like a sailor and my grammar is as bad as my autocorrect I mean which sane phone converts how to hoe? And it's kinda disjointed and well... you'll see what I'm sa

I stare at the book on the floor blankly. I don't know what's the last thing I had actually eaten but I'm pretty sure I would have puked it all over Natalie's guestroom if I had had something recently.

Well at least now I know where Michella gets it from, I think drily.

But my sister is nothing like my mother. She's a million times better than her.

Too bad it's taken me this long to figure that out.

I'm not nearly as shocked as I should have been. My parents, till whatever little I had seen had never really been the most stable and loving couple. My dad loved his work more than anything else and my mom, well she had her ambition that got her to where she is now.

If they did split up, I wouldn't be shocked at all, to be honest it wouldn't matter to me even one bit after all they were strangers to me, people who I barely even knew.

No, I'm not surprised that my mother had an affair at all. But I was kind of horrified as to whom she had it with.

But most of all I was shocked, shocked about the fact how Jeanine Henderson actually managed to tolerate her and not just punch her in the face.

And Jake. How did he even manage to be in the same room as her?

I lean on the edge of the bed burying my face in my hands.

Is it too hard for me to ask for a life that isn't so messed up that it makes my head hurt every second of the damn day?

I can't get myself to actually wrap my head around the book in front of me, the one that Jake had written all those years ago.

About me.

And him.

It was us, the way he saw it.

I let out a small smile remembering when he'd stood in the rain and told me that I wasn't just a chapter but the entire book.

Maybe he'd meant it quite literally.

It hurt to see the clarity with which he remembered everything. I'd always known Jake had a very good memory but this was bordering on eidetic.

He remembered everything.

He remembered everything about me.

Seeing me through his eyes I seem like the protagonist of some book, a fascinating, interesting main character who has a lot more to her personality than just being clumsy and an absolute dork.

I'm not plain old whiny Clara Wilson with abandonment issues the way he describes me, I'm someone who is different... in a good way.

Seeing me through his eyes I don't seem helpless, I don't seem broken. Maybe I was a different version of myself back when we were fourteen and I hadn't nearly been through as much.

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