Chapter Twenty-Two
“Jules?” I heard my name being called, as a faint knock was evident on the door.
“Yeah?” I said, straightening up in my bed.
“Can I come in?” they asked.
“Uh. Sure,” I said, being too lazy to say no to whoever it was.
“Hey!” they said, walking into my room. “They” being the one and only Chase Ryan. Why the hell was that boy in my room? Why was he even in my house?
“Hi…” I said slowly, as his eyes wondered around my room. A smirk was placed on my face as Chase’s expression grew to full disgust. Ah! The power of my perfectly messy room. It’s been said to make people with OCD faint.
“You’re room is so…” he struggled to find a word that fit the description.
“Amazing?” I suggested.
“No; chaotic maybe?” he said, attempting to do a 360 of the room to survey it, only to be stopped by tripping on a volley ball, that just conveniently happened to be placed on the floor. I didn’t even know I had a volley ball in here… The first time he had been in here, it was uncharacteristically clean, so I guess seeing it in its normal state is a bit nerve-racking.
“Oh! Wipeout!” I laughed, still remaining on my bed, no offering my help. It’s Chase; he’s a big boy, he can get off the floor by himself.
“Yeah, this is real funny,” he said, standing up.
“I know, isn’t it?!”
“Wow, I guess you weren’t lying,” he said, looking at me.
“Excuse me?” I said, very confused. I lie about some things. I try not to, but it’s in my nature. I don’t however recall ever lying to Chase about anything… big… that he would actually remember.
“You play the guitar. That first day, when we went over to Izzy’s house, and you told them that you played the guitar, I didn’t believe you,” he said.
“Oh! You mean this thing?” I said, holding up the instrument I had been screwing around with just moments before he had entered my mess of no return.
“Yeah, I didn’t think that you really played, I thought that you just said that so they’d like you or something.”
“No, I don’t really do that anymore. I like people liking me for who I am, not who I pretend to be,” I said, lightly strumming the strings with my somewhat callused fingers to generate a nice, and in no way melodic, sound.
“Play something for me,” he urged, sitting down at the foot of my bed, after jumping over the glorious obstacle that was a heap of laundry.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Fine,” I said, trying to think of any songs that held any relevance to either of us. Breakeven. Even if Chase doesn’t care about the song, I just learned the first half, and it’s an epic song, so that’s what I’m playing. That first line- I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing- I’ve always felt a connection to. I know the song’s about a breakup, but still.
I placed my fingers in their position at the neck of the guitar, pressing down on all required chords. Grabbing a red pick that happened to be next to me, I ran it along the center of the instrument, producing the first notes of the amazing song. I looked up at Chase, to see his eyes on my fingers, as they continued to move about to the required harmonies of the song. I kept going, up to the point that I knew.
YOU ARE READING
Back Again
Teen FictionJulia Tylers was gone for two years. She hadn't been in contact with the people from her old life. To her, they were gone, and she would never see them again. She unexpectedly came back-- back to the place she swore she'd never return. She changed...
