Backstreet Boy

|Chapter 45: Opposites Do Attract|

Isabella

Three rather obnoxious taps on the window woke me up.

Sitting up straight in bed, I glanced over at the window to the side of me. Luckily, I had the curtains drawn, but I wish I didn't have to follow through with the astonishment of who would be outside my window... especially if it was some insolent burglar or crook or serial killer. So when the taps progressed on, I knew I had to take action.

Despite my pyjamas being rather suited for the weather of summer – as they were indeed just a tank top and very short shorts as it can get rather warm in the house – I threw the duvet off me and ambled quietly over to the window. Grabbing a fistful of purple curtain in my hand, I decided I would count to three before yanking the curtain back.

On my second count, there were more taps and due to arrant alarm and panic, I involuntarily jerked the curtain back so my whole body was revealed to the person outside. Mercifully, I had not screamed or projected my voice in any way. Set on edge, I took a few moments to distinguish the person on the other side of my window. It was a guy. And no doubt about it, there was only one person it could be.

Jason.

Hastily opening the window, knowing this had to be some kind of emergency otherwise he wouldn't have dared come to my house, Jason basically fell into my room as soon as the window was opened. I stepped back to avoid being crushed in the protocol and then locked my window shut, letting the curtain billow in the draught.

Jason took a second for himself to relax and look at his surroundings, despite still lying on the floor. I took this as my opportunity to really check him out considering there was blood gushing from his nose, one swelling appearing around his left eye and multiple cuts everywhere else on his arms. His top was already tarnished and stained with blood. My stomach dropped just at the sight of him, but apparently getting beaten up doesn't do anything to metamorphose his humour.

He winced a few times, his face contorting further each time. "Where do intruders come in?" he asked. "In-tru-da-window." Then he started cracking up quietly to himself.

"Shush!" I whispered, bending down to him. "Everyone's in bed and if they hear you, then that's bad news for the both of us. Now, what happened to you?"

Jason's laughter stopped and he turned his head to me, endeavouring to sit up but failing without my assistance. He leaned back on the side of my bed and said, "Jackson hired some people to beat me up. I didn't want to go home to Alex because that would have meant telling him I'd been lying about why I'd been coming home late and I couldn't tell him the truth. He'd be so disappointed in me."

As much as I was horrified and quizzical to why Jackson had done this to Jason, I kept my voice steady and asked, "So you came to me – why?" because I knew this would plague me if I didn't.

"Because I knew you'd help me out."

A moment passed in silence as we just gazed at one another. From this proximity, I could see a cut on the edge of his bottom lip. They didn't look so crimson now, and purpler. There was also a bruise forming right on the edge of his defined jaw line on the same side as his eye-swelling.

"What were the lies you told him?"

"Can't you help me out here?" he pleaded. "Help me get cleaned up? I can't do this alone. I got kicked in the ribs quite a few times, Isabella."

"Alright, but be quiet," I demanded.

But then his eyes wandered down to my body and I instantaneously felt a little self-conscious. I was wearing underwear, thankfully, but I did not wear a bra to bed and I was a little too nervous and scared to quickly put one on just to yank the curtain back and see who was there. He gulped silently.