Living With The Bad Boy [COMPLETE][VERSION ONE]

Chapter 38

It takes another thirty minutes of sitting in the dark, enclosed space of the closet before I tell Jase that I need to go again. This time, he just nods, saying something about not making too much of a rebel out of me. The logical part of me says that it's a good thing that we both agreed to leave, but...

Another part of me just wants to stay here with Jase, hiding from the rest of the world forever.

This entire time, neither one of us has even spoken about the kiss (okay, well, full disclosure- it was a lot more than just one kiss), and Jase hasn't tried to make a move. I can't quite decide if I'm thankful because this might just be the world's worst timing... or if I wish he had anyway.

If he liked me like that, he would've done something. Or at least said something. It's just how Jase Turner works.

Right?

Mrs. Evans, our school librarian, is practically a saint. She's seen me crying in a deserted corner plenty of times, and yet not once has she stopped to do the awkward are-you-okay-do-you-want-to-see-the-guidance-counselor speech- instead just giving me a note when I ask for one that says I was restocking bookshelves or something.

Today, thankfully, is no exception, and when I walk into English 30 minutes late, all I get is a slight glare from my teacher, who mutters something about me needing to 'cover up.' Because yes, this is totally something I'd go to school in under normal circumstances. For sure.

This entire day just feels like a nightmare, and in typical nightmare-fashion, seems to drag on for as long as possible. I can barely focus for the rest of English, but when I leave to stretch my legs, I hear two girls mutter 'slut' while I drink out of the water fountain.

That's just awesome.

Finally, finally, finally, this horrific day comes to an end, and I scramble out of my seat practically the second the final bell rings.

Jase, for once, doesn't have practice for one of his various sports because his coach has mono, so he texts me, offering a ride home. Seeing his alert, my fingers hesitate over the keyboard, humming with anticipation. I want to say yes, I want to see him again. I want to pretend it's an accident that our hands brush against each other while changing the volume on the radio, I want to hear his voice, teasingly calling me that godawful nickname, I want... him. To wrap my hands in his hair and kiss him again, reputation be damned.

But I just humiliated myself in front of him. Sure, we all have our bad moments, but panic attacks aren't usually the type of thing I like to broadcast to the general public.

Not that it's the first one he's been witness to by any means. There was that lovely time when he left me at home and I was late for my test, as well as that time Chrissa decided to be oh-so lovely and light my paper on fire.

Looking back at it, I feel like such an idiot for ever believing that we were really friends in the first place.

But I feel like an idiot for a lot of things right now- Chrissa isn't even scratching the surface of the hole I've managed to dig for myself. And between the chaos of the day, I haven't even gotten a moment to think...

Which is also part of the reason why I decline Jase's invitation, tell him that I want to catch the bus.

It seems like an excellent idea... until I reach the bus station. The one that is still closed, just like yesterday.

Oh, and even better? It just started to rain.

Fabulous.

I'm thankful for the fact that the warmth from yesterday doesn't completely seem to have dissipated, at least... but 45 degrees and bone-drenching rain in a thin sweatshirt still isn't exactly particularly warm, and I'm half-regretting telling Jase not to give me a ride by the time I finally get to the driveway. I should've just shelved my stupid pride and gone with him, but it's too late for that now.

Plus the sting of him agreeing that all we are is friends... still hurts, if I'm honest.

But it's fine. I'm fine.

Shivering and soaked with a mountain of homework for the weekend, but otherwise fine.

"You look like a drowned sewer rat," is the first thing Jase says to me when I walk through the door, a slight smirk on his face as he readjusts himself on the couch, sitting up straighter and tucking his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"Wow, and the compliment of the day award goes to Jase Turner," I mutter, the sarcasm filling my tone like helium expanding a balloon as I'm forced to squeeze the water out of my drenched hair, trying not to shiver as I throw off my stupid heels and attempt to walk past Jase- but it doesn't work. He reaches out, wrapping a hand around my wrist. His touch is firm but somehow feather-light at the same time, like he's hesitant. Like he's not sure how I'm going to react.

"Red," he says after a beat of silence, his voice so soft it nearly knocks me off my feet. "Did you really do all this just to get away from me?"
Oh. I'm so stupid. I should've known that this is how he'd take it, that Jase would assume that I walked home in the rain instead of accepting a ride from him because I was mad, or because I didn't like him, when in fact... the opposite is true.

I like Jase too much. Even these few inches where our skin touches is enough to make me want to stop breathing, to get closer, closer, closer.

And I don't know what to do about it. I don't know how to just turn off feelings for a guy that so obviously would never fall for me- so I have to hide instead.

"Red?" Jase asks again, and I feel one last brush of his fingertips against my wrist before he drops his arm to the side again, and I feel like I just swallowed a lead weight.
"Can you hand me that blanket?" I ask, my voice low and my gaze fixated on something just slightly to the left of his eyes. Jase nods at my words, but he doesn't just reach over to put the folded-up strip of fabric in my outstretched hand, instead, he stands up, unfurling the blanket as he makes his way behind me- I can practically feel his breath on my neck, he's so close, spreading goosebumps over my skin as his hand skims the edge of my collarbone, pushing my hair over to one side. It's an infinitely small movement, barely a touch at all, but in that moment... it's like I forget how to breathe.

I feel the blanket wrap around my shoulders, and then my hair falls back over my shoulders. Jase must back up, because by the time I turn around to look at him... he's halfway out of the room.

I make my way upstairs, peeling off Jase's crewneck and grabbing an oversized 'UVHS Wolves Win!' t-shirt and a pair of navy sweatpants, pulling my hair back into a messy, snarled bun, and wrapping the blanket around me as I lie down on my bed, barely even noticing the cherubs for once. My thoughts are still on earlier, on how unbearably stupid I've become.

How is it that just one touch from Jase Turner is enough to break me apart? How does something so simple have so much of an impact?

And how is it that... it almost seemed like Jase was trying to affect me?

A/N: AND WE'RE BACK Y'ALL!

Wow. You guys will not believe how good it feels to post a new update, even though it's only been three weeks. I hope everyone missed me vEry much because I missed y'all too, and I hope you forgive me for the fact that this chapter is very very short and somewhat filler. I kind of needed a few easy scenes to write and get me back in my groove and in Sienna/Jase's headspace, as strange as that sounds. But don't fear, because the next chapter is about to get... sPicy 😏

I hope everyone's doing well despite all that's going on in the world right now!

Love,

Selene :)