House Number 1402

I Have To Get Paint

It had been a week. A week since my amazing night with Jackson, a week since my sister demolished my car, and a week since I had seen or heard anything from my stalker. 

That week had been filled with amazing dates, two backyard barbeques, and one trip to the mechanic.  

My poor car need a new hood, a new window, and two new side panels. According to the oversized and under-washed man behind the counter, "It ain't gonna take but a few weeks and a paint job." So, needless to say, I was without any kind of transportation.  

That little hiccup pleased my sister to no end. She had come back home a few days after she left, and we have still not really spoken to each other. I told her she needed to find a ride, she said ok, and that was it. The only reason I knew that she was happy was because I heard her on the phone. She went on and on about how she finally got her way.  

I was contemplating messing with her room more, but I let the idea fall out of my head quicker than it entered. I had already pushed her to her limit once, and I wasn't ready to see what would happen if I did it again. So, I sucked up my pride and let her take the victory. Believe me, it hurt.  

Spending time with Jackson was amazing, we hadn't said it out loud yet, but I knew we were a couple. We had spent every single day, and most nights, together. I hadn't yet told him about the note, or the talk that I had had with my new "friend."  After I saw him in the trees, I looked down the wrap my finger in a towel, and when I looked back up he was gone. Since i hadn't seen him or gotten any new "love letters," I decided it was done. I didn't want to make waves over something that wasn't happening.

"You should call the police," Ken said. She was currently sitting across from me at the kitchen table, clutching my mysterious letter in her hands. Her eyes grew wider every time she read it, and I eventually had to yank it away from her.  

"What good will it do?" I asked, stuffing the letter into my back pocket. "Nothing has happened for a week, what could they do now?" 

"Sadie, you asked for my opinion, and that's what I think." Ken sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.  

She had a point, I did call her and make her come over for that exact reason. I had been arguing with myself over the whole incident for a week and decided I needed an outsider's opinion. But, as I stared at my friend, all dolled up in her bright blue dress with her hair curled into perfect ringlets, I realized that she was the wrong one to ask.  

Kendall was a girl's girl. She loved to do her hair and make-up, constantly in dresses, and never once stood up for herself. She was usually the quiet, shy girl in the front row, unless she was with me. I had a strong feeling that I was the only one who knew that she actually had an attitude. Given it was a very small one, but it was there.  

"Ken, I'm not calling the police," I finally replied, putting myself in the same position she was.  

"Fine, then you should at least tell Jackson, that way if they do start up again at least someone knows." 

Crap, the girl had a good point. If something were to get crazy, it would be better if someone knew. "Fine," I muttered.  

"He was home when I drove by." 

"You want me to go now?" I asked, losing some of my resolve. Sure, I was going to tell him, in like a week. I just hated seeming so defenseless, just because I was a girl didn't mean that I couldn't take care of myself.  

"No better time than now," Ken smirked. She knew me all too well. The only time I asked for help, unless forced, was when my prank ideas were too big for me. "But you should change first."