Beneath the Sharps & Flats

♫Chapter 23- Who Knew Jessica Had a Mean Punch?♫

WARNING: This chapter contains some violence and more use of offensive language. You may skip this part if you choose to, but keep reading if you dare. You have been warned.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

On a typical Monday morning, I would probably hit snooze on my alarm clock, roll over in bed, and drift back into sleep for another thirty minutes. When my alarm clock would go off again, I would groggily check the time, then immediately snap out of my comatose state, and rush to get ready.

            This morning, however, that was not the case.

            I barely got a wink of sleep last night because my brain wouldn't shut down. My mind kept replaying different scenarios that would occur and how I should approach Jace with this. It was one of those mornings where I was already wide awake at five in the morning staring at my ceiling and digging my own grave. It was one of those mornings where I shut my alarm clock off before it even went off.

            I was up and brushing my teeth at six thirty in my bathroom.

            I decided to go with a nicer appearance today just for the special occasion: some dark washed skinny jeans with some of my brown combat boots, and a gray tank top to go underneath my white cardigan. I curled my hair in loose ringlets, swept a brush of mascara over my eyelashes, and applied lip gloss to my mouth. Once I figured I looked presentable, I decided to tie the whole outfit together with my brown fedora which happened to be the same shade as my combat boots. I almost feel bad for my poor fedoras. I haven't worn them in forever.

            After moisturizing my dry hands with lotion and spritzing perfume all over myself, I grab my Vera tote and double cheek to see if I remembered to complete all of my homework and if I packed everything in the bag. I sigh in content. Luckily, it hasn't been one of those mornings when the first thing I do when I get out of bed is trip over my backpack.

            I bound down the stairs, pleasantly greeted with the aroma of blueberry pancakes and bacon. On cue, my stomach snarls and Blake looks up from the frying pan to smile at me.

            "What's the special occasion," he questions, eyeing my outfit.

            I shrug, "It's the first day I'm going to be back to school in a little over a week where I've been wearing nothing but sweatpants and baggy shirts. I felt like I needed to dress up."

            He rolls his eyes and turns his back to me to flip the pancakes, "Girls."

            He serves me a plate full of blueberry pancakes along with a side of bacon. After this, he hands me a glass of milk and some steaming hot syrup. My stomach growls again and I lick my lips.

            "Dig in, little sis," Blake chuckles, walking over to the refrigerator to drink orange juice out of the carton. I roll my eyes. It's like he never left.

            "Hey, by the way, do you need a ride to school today sine Taylor can't ... you know?"

            I shake my head as I shovel my first bite of pancakes in my mouth. I hold back a moan. I chew and wait until I swallow to reply; "Jace is actually giving us a ride."

            "Oh, I see," Blake scowls, "I honestly don't trust him to drive you guys."

            Anger blooms in my chest and I drop the fork on the table with a loud clang, "What is your deal with Jace anyway? He was as polite as ever to you and you were just a huge jackass!'