Neighbors with the Bad Boy (In Editing And Reconstruction)

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~Not edited

Chapter 18

I don’t get you, I don’t get you, I don’t get you. I don’t get you at all, Kayden Maxwell! My thoughts were loud, and for a second I was scared I had worded them out loud. But because of the solemn expression that was still attached to Kayden’s face, I knew my ludicrousness hadn’t risen above the deranged level it was already in—thank goodness.

“Why?” I said blankly, staring straight ahead, watching the snow fall from the dark sky. The ground was completely white, shielded with the light of the moon, no green in sight. I wrapped my arms around my body, shivering from the icy wind.

In the corner of my, I saw Kayden stare at me. He was confused. “What do you mean?”

I turned to him, wide-eyed. “What do I mean?” I exclaimed, furious. I can’t believe Kayden just asked that. What do I mean? What the hell do I mean? Gosh, this boy was so stupid. But, in truth, now that I think about it, all boys were. Some just didn’t reach the insanity that others possessed . . . thankfully. “Kayden, you are an idiot if you really just asked me that. You’ve been going back in forth—your happy one second and then you’re not—for like ever! Ever since I met you you’ve been like that. I understand you have a freaking disorder, and I’m sorry about that, but take some freak’ n medicine, you dimwit! I just—you don’t understand how many people are worried about you, do you? Like me, for example. Like your mother. Like—so many other damn people. I’ve been trying to understand you, help you. I’ve been trying to break down those damn walls you’ve built up, but it’s just so hard . . . SO HARD! I mean . . . you’re so damn confusing. I don’t understand you, Kayden Maxwell. I don’t understand you at all. But I will get through to you, and I won’t give up. Just let me help you, let me be your friend.” I took a few steps forward, trying to reach out to him mentally, but Kayden just stood there. His face was blank. He was immobile. Our eyes were connected, and though no emotion was settled on his face, some were dancing in his eyes. They, his eyes, were so pretty when filled with emotion, and for a second—I didn’t know why I hadn’t ever noticed before—I thought his eyes were blue, not a penetrating black. And I was correct; I wasn’t hallucinating. They were blue—an incredible blue. So dark, so bright. I was glad I hadn’t noticed before, because if I had, I wouldn’t be able to stop staring—like now, for instance.

Finally, Kayden spoke, and what came out of his mouth had surprised me. “Why? Why do you want to help me? Do you feel bad for me, Blackheart? Is that why you want to help me? Or is it something else? Something more than we’re allowing ourselves to admit?” He shook his head, rolling his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “No, it couldn’t be something like that. You’re dating that asshole, Mike Jones. He may seem all goody-goody and sh—“Before I could even comprehend what I was doing, my hand rose and it connected with the side of Kayden Maxwell’s face. A sharp sound filled my ears, and I just realized I—Elyse Blackheart—slapped Kayden Maxwell, the known “bad” boy at Jefferson High who had a rough past and a most-likely bumpy future. And just like that day when out lips had accidently touched; a mouthful of apologies exploded from my mouth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—well, I mean I did. But I just . . . I’m sorry.” Embarrassed, I looked away. I was glad I was in a shadowed part, away from the bright glare of the moon, because if I wasn’t, Kayden would most-likely see the tomatoes I have for cheeks.

Abruptly, the feel of cold, foreign skin met with one of my flaming cheeks. My eyes widened, and I snapped my attention to Kayden who was standing only inches away from me. His hand was cupping my cheek, caressing it with his long finger. It was wrong, this position, but for some reason—I gulped at the very thought—it felt so right. That was cliché, I know, but it was true, it was honest. This, his ice-cold hand against my burning cheek, felt so amazing, so right. And I didn’t want his palm to ever go away—for us to ever go away. But soon, night would end and day would come. Dreams would be over and reality would hit. Us, Kayden and I, was a fantasy I didn’t want to admit I had—and I doubt I even knew I had—but it was there, and I just realized it. And the thought scared me like hell.