You aren't sure when this all happened, you can guess it started with Spanish. Maybe if you knew the language better, you wouldn't be in this situation. When she offered to tutor you, you didn't expect for it to escalate into something more, because let's face it, you hardly ever talked to Amy.
But here you are again, sitting in your car, head on the steering wheel, praying for the strength to go on, to say no to her. But when you close your eyes, you see her, and well when you see her, that's more the enough to make you weak at the knees.
She has a way of making you feel like a man. She makes you feel wanted, needed, appreciated, all the things Madison and Grace didn't do. You miss her when you don't see her; you constantly think about her, you really care about you. And it fucking scares you. You can't feel this way about Amy; you can't have deeper feelings for her. She's strictly your bed buddy, nothing more, nothing less.
When you go over to her house, you both make sure John is at Ricky's house, and that George and Ashley are out. You come over to her house, bearing your books, just in case anyone is home, and when she tells you coast is clear, she leads you up to her bedroom.
When she's feeling rough and sexy, the sex is passionate and dirty. There's pulling of the hair, scratching of the nails, screaming of the names, it's freaking fun.
But when she's feeling romantic, well it's different. She allows you to take your time with her, to caress each part of her, to kiss her gently. Sex when it's romantic is the way two people who are in love would have sex.
After rough sex, she kicks you out. After romantic sex, she begs you to stay and just lay with her when you make the move to leave. She talks to you about everything. When she complains about her parents to you, you agree with everything she says. When she talks about drama, you make sure you look as interested as possible. When she gushes about her dreams, you insist that she can do anything she puts her mind. Sometimes she just rests her head on your chest and hums. She listens to your heartbeat, and laughs when you catch her.
It's when she talks about Ricky that you have trouble agreeing or even listening to her. At first you felt guilty about this, this whole situation. Amy was cheating on Ricky with you, and he didn't know. But then you began to feel jealousy, jealousy that Ricky was the one who Amy could tell freely that she loved. She talks about her future with him, says she loves him, and always insist that what you and her are doing will have to stop soon.
You agree and say that you two will never do this again. But you wonder just how much Amy really loves him if she's willing to cheat on him. You could love her better than him, she deserves better than Ricky. You know more about her than Ricky does. He doesn't know her favorite color is a mixture of pink and peach, or her favorite movie is Up. He doesn't know that she hates ice cream, or that when she was little she dreamed of being a journalist. You know so much about Amy, you even know her facial expressions.
One day, you almost let it slip, the façade of not caring that much about her. You almost tell her you love her. You turn to her and call her name. She looks up and you, her brown orbs questioning you.
"Amy I-," You say
She interrupts you. "Yeah Jack?" She's playing with your fingers, and it's getting harder not to tell her. But you're afraid.
"Amy I, um, have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." You get up and start to leave. You put on your pants and shirt, and walk out her door. You hear her say goodbye. You wanted to tell her. Tell her you loved her more than anything else. But you didn't want to ruin this. You didn't want to freak her out. Ruin a good thing. So you walk to your car and you sit in the seat with your head on the steering wheel, praying. Each time you come over, you die a little more. You die from not being with her. You die from all the lies, and the love, and the sex. You don't know if you can go on.
But every time you close your eyes, you see her face, and that is strong enough to make you weak, to make you want to run back to her. And it's slowly killing you.
So I don't need to be writting any new stories, but I just couldn't resist. There are not enough Jack/Amy stories, and we all know that pairing is going to happen. I don't know why I love them so much, I just do. Anyway, if you like it, then press the button that says review, and tell me! Oh and this takes place concurrent with the current episodes.
~Charlie