Chapter Eighteen

1.2K 50 55
                                    

And then I woke up. I'm not going to lie; as embarrassing and pathetic as it sounds, I cried whenever I woke up. Yep. It took me five minutes, maybe longer, to get over the fact that none of that really happened and it was just a sick and twisted dream. And I tried to convince myself that since it was so realistic and vivid as it was it had to be real. But it wasn't. I'm still the pathetic 15 year old Isabelle Fuhrman. I'm still hopelessly in love with the 20 year old who would never have feelings like that for me. I'm still dating a boy who thinks I love him. I'm still worthless to him.

So at three in the morning, I sat in my bed with my knees curled up to my chest screaming all sorts of foul language into my pillow. After that, I called the person who I knew would come over at that exact moment. Of course I wouldn't tell them what my "dream" was about. I would tell them it was some terrible nightmare. In a way, it was.

Ian answered his cell phone the second time I tried calling. As I knew he would, he lightly knocked on my door ten minutes after the call. He came in and as much as I hate to say it, I needed a hug from him. He just stood there and hugged me back, which is honestly all I needed. He didn't ask any questions and didn't try to comfort me in any way except for the hug. After I calmed down a little, he did ask if I needed to talk. I just shook my head, saying I didn't want to that moment. What was I supposed to say? I couldn't tell him that I had a dream about the guy he hates kissing me and that I'm insanely upset because it wasn't real. Honestly, could my life get any more ridiculous?

The answer is yes. Whenever Ian left like an hour after I called him I tried to get some sleep. I did off and on but not like a good sleep. After I got up and showered, I walked over to Jackie's room. On the walk over, I saw none other than Alexander walking in the halls to Jack's room. He waved his hand and opened his mouth to say something but I ran into Jackie's room before he could. I know it's not his fault that the dream wasn't real but I have no desire to talk to him. It kind of feels like he confessed his love for me and then five minutes later went, "Ha, I'm just kidding". I shouldn't blame him or try to avoid him and it feels dumb to do so.

I've been sitting in the comfortable fluffy chair in Jackie's room for like two hours. I told her everything when I first got here. She told me that she didn't know what to do so now she's making me watch movies on Netflix. She currently has on John Tucker Must Die, which is as pleasant as it sounds.

I'm not paying any attention at all to the movie. Jackie seems to really be enjoying it. She gets an annoyed look when somebody knocks on her door. She groans, pauses the movie, then gets up to answer it.

I glance over at the person who knocked and see Jack standing there. He smiles and waves at me, so I smile in return. Jackie whispers something to him and he walks past her, flopping onto her bed.

Jack props his chin on his hands and smiles at me. He looks as if he's trying to figure out what to say.

"Jack, don't antagonize her. She had a rough night apparently." Jackie tells him.

"I would never antagonize anybody." He says with a devilish grin. "Hey, Isabelle, why was Mr. Nelson walking out of your room at 4 A.M. last night?"

Jackie's eyes go wide and she looks at me. "You never said anything about-"

"Well, I was going to call you but last time I needed someone to talk to in the middle of the night you wouldn't come over until in the morning. So I just called Ian." I tell her. "Wait, why were you stalking my room that early?"

"I wasn't. I woke up and was like, really hungry. So I went to the vending machine and I saw Ian walking out of your room." He says. I nod my head. "Anyways, what was your 'nightmare' about. Ghosts? Zombies?"

These ScarsWhere stories live. Discover now