The Meeting of the Ghost King
Constance Margaret Jennings was the perfect age - Sixteen. She was the daughter of a wealthy man, and lived in a high-class apartment in New York. She was a stunning girl with black hair and grey eyes. She had two best friends, one blonde and the other brunette, that made the ideal pack. She didn't do any sports, yet she was a star at her school. She sat at a big table at lunch. She was the smartest kid in her year, and everybody was proud of it. She woke up every morning at seven o'clock and went to bed at eleven fifteen. Many boys desired her, and she was about to date the all star football player, Jace Rodgers.
In other words, people were blind.
Constance Margaret Jennings hated her age. In two years, she would be out of there, but in two years she would also be in the two highest stressed years in high school. She was one of the six daughters of a wealthy man, who had three mistresses. She lived in a high-class apartment in New York that her dad was going to lose in about three months. She had acne, no boobs, and a stomach that stopped her from wearing a two-piece. Her best friends were backstabbing, two-faced ballet prodigies who she only walked with so she didn't have to talk. She didn't do any sports, because she was embarrassed by her own body sweat. She sat at a large lunch table so she could read without anybody noticing her. She was the smartest kid in her year, only because she wanted her mom to finally be proud of her (but never would). She woke up every morning at seven o'clock and fell asleep at two in the morning. And, she was in love with a homeless boy who slept in a tree.
Yes, people were really blind.
But her story didn't start with any of that. Her story started with a boy. A boy who was rude and weird and funny and broken. A boy who she met in a large oak tree that overlooked the courtyard in Manhattan Park. A boy who saved her life.
It was January Ninth, and it begun.
Her feet slushed in the black ice lazily as she crossed the street between Manhattan Private and the average street in front of her. It was Tuesday – A horrible day of the week. The ice was slowly starting to melt, and it was only her who was walking home. Most people, snobs who were afraid of getting their 'new three hundred dollar coach boots' dirty, took the bus or got their parent's butler to pick them up. But her? She wasn't afraid of a little slush on her boots.
She crossed the road of course, safely, but just as she was about to turn she felt something yank her by her forearm. She was swished around sharply with a gasp, and fell forward with a crunch. She looked up, horror staining her eyes, expecting somebody threatening, but all that was in front of her was Jace Rodgers.
Jace Rodgers.
She tried her hardest not to sigh. She heard of the guy – And how he had a crush on her – But she never was truly into him. He was good looking – Dashing hair, deep brown eyes, a tan skin tone, but something about him always turned her off and she didn't exactly know why. Maybe it was because he was cocky or selfish or a player. But something always told her to say no.
"Hi Jace," She said shortly, rubbing her sore arm, "Aren't you getting picked up?" He was smiling at her.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to grab you," He told her, not very sorry, "And no, I'm not getting picked up. I know – Sucks. I really didn't want to get these five hundred dollar red sneakers brown yet. You know, me and my traveling football team …" That was how everything started at that school. Me and my five hundred dollar shoes.
"Er, look I really got to go," She interrupted, "Sorry!" She swerved around quickly, but just as she was about to take a step, she felt her arm being wrenched back again. Her breath sucked in instantly. She spun over toward him, chills going down her spine. This time, his arm didn't let go.
"Can I walk you home?" He asked quickly. Her mouth went dry. A horrible new feeling filled her. A feeling she never thought would happen.
"Ah, see, I'm not really going home. I'm…" Her brain raced quickly, her grey eyes flickering to his hand"…Picking up my sisters." His smile didn't falter.
"I can come with you," He offered. His arm around her tightened, making tears of pain fill her eyes. Nobody would notice, she realized to herself, except her. She was the only one who could see the dark intentions in his eyes. They were stern, dominating. But she didn't look away. She remembered that once – When a guy was trying to hurt you, don't look away from his eyes until you get away.
"Uh—I-" Crap "You don't want to do that."
"No, truly, I want to." Suddenly, she ripped her arm away from him jerkily and gave him a harsh stare.
"No, you don't," She said sharply, "It's a long walk."
"Let me walk with you," He said coolly. She was going to just walk anyway, but he took a step right in front of her. Her breath stopped. His eyes were flashing at her, and suddenly she felt vulnerable. Scared. She had to do something…She had to get away…
"F—Fine," She said with a tremble, "Come on then." She started to walk stiffly, with him at her side. She looked at him skeptically, her brain racking for a solution. He was staring at her.
"Where do your sisters go?" He asked. She glanced around him, at the blank wondering people. None of them were paying attention to her…She needed to get somebody attention…This boy. He was harassing her.
"Manhattan Country Day," She spat out quickly, taking shakey breaths "But really Jace, it's a long wa-"
"Shouldn't we go this way then?" He stopped in front of an ally. She peered inside it. It was black, dark, deserted. Something powerful was crossed against Jace's face.
"No," She whispered sternly, her arms at her chest "No…I'm not…" She felt herself stumbling back.
"But it's quicker," He said, and he grabbed her arm again, pulling her, "Tru-"
"NO!" She screamed, ripping away from his grasp. Her legs sprinted away from him quickly, hitting around a corner. She glimpsed behind her quickly and there he was – Right in front of him. She could feel the banging of her heartbeat in her ear.
Oh god, oh god, oh god.
"HEY!" He screamed at her, making her stumble. Why in the name of god was he chasing her? Her breathing seemed to shorten and she thought she was going to puke.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She screamed as loud as she dared, but he was still behind her. Determination. For the first time in her life, she wished she didn't live in New York. Or else somebody would've seen that a creep was running behind her, trying to do God-Knows-What to her.
She tried to sprint faster, but then suddenly she realized how close he was to her. She couldn't' feel her own bones.
"He's going to get me," She whispered to herself in a shiver, "And then he's going to rape me." Unless she got home on time, a voice reminded her.
But she wouldn't. Because to get home, she would need to get through traffic. She couldn't stop for a cab, because he was only feet away from her. Her grey eyes flickered back at him, and he was smiling. The creep was smiling. Didn't he give up? Didn't she do everything everybody told her to do? "Scream and run"? Obviously, that logic was completely bogus. Because he was still running. Running right for her, and frankly, she wasn't a good athlete. And he was.
But then, suddenly, she saw what was in front of her. Manhattan Park.
There was a thrill inside her – A thrill that made her run faster. She threw herself above the gate, light enough to actually do that. Jace scurried behind her angrily.
"HELP!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, "HE'S FOLLOWING ME!" But…Nobody turned around. It was like they were all into their own thing; Reading the newspaper, yelling at their kids, feeding birds. They probably just thought they were two kids playing around. But she, frankly, wasn't smiling. Her eyes eyed the options around her; 1) Fight it out, 2) Keep running, 3) Find somebody. But all three weren't working.
And then she saw the tree. The wide, ancient, willow-oak tree that was planted right in front of her. At first, she slowed down, but then she felt the yank of jacket, coming from behind her. She let the jacket slip from her smoothly and started to climb the tree. Branch after branch, she was light enough to hop. She heard Jace under her struggle. She let her eyes to the top. To the very top.
"YOU CAN'T GET ME UP HERE JACE!" She screamed as she got to about twenty feet, "YOU CAN'T-" But then she felt the light twig she was gripping onto, snap.
For two seconds, the whole world stopped. The children playing around her, the birds flying beside her, all the noise in New York City, completely stopped. Her whole body was in air, and she thought about her sisters. Her parents. Her pathetic life. But then, suddenly, she felt something catch hold onto her. With a whiff of air, she was thrown up back onto a branch. She opened her eyes.
There was a boy in front of her, and he was absolutely beautiful. His hair was a shaggy black wave that touched his shoulders just barely, with olive skin that looked gorgeous with the flickers of tree-light shining onto it. He looked like he was homeless – Unnaturally skinny, with ripped clothes and the bags of chips stalked next to him. He was looking below her, but she saw the large black moon irises, and it took her breath away.
But then her breath came right back when she saw Jace in front of her. She staggered down the branch, tugging onto the tree trunk. Was this a nightmare? Was this what it was?
His teeth were clenched.
"What the hell do you think you're doin-" But then the olive-skinned boy took movement, and Jace's arm was in his hands. Her eyes widened. Jace was three times as big, what was this boy thinking? What was he, fourteen, maybe fifteen? He couldn't beat Jace. But still, she saw fear flicker in Jace's eyes, like he was seeing the most horrifying thing that he had ever witnessed.
"Let go of my ha-"
"You're in my tree." And before Jace could say another word, Constance heard a snap. Jace went flying down, between the branches that crunched him, until he hit the ground. Probably not even conscious.
At first, there was a ringing silence.
"You saved my life," She whispered at him. But he didn't look at her, barely acknowledged her. He picked up a tattered book and brought it to his face.
"I—Thank you," She said feebly, "Thank you so much." He ignored her. She was about to start crawling down, but something about him struck her.
"I'm Consta—Connie," She corrected herself quickly; "My name is Connie." He didn't look up. A bad feeling boiled into her stomach.
"What are you doing up here?" She continued to talk, "Do you just hang out here or-"
"It's my tree," He hissed firmly. His voice was hollow, but it felt so strong inside her.
"Oh do you…Live here?" It sounded like a stupid question, but by the objects hanging off the branches, it looked like somebody had been camping up here for weeks.
"It's my tree," He repeated. She nodded.
"Okay," She accepted lightly, "What's your name?" He was quiet.
"What's your name?" She asked .
"Look dude, I'm just asking your na-"
"Nico." She smiled at herself. Nico.
AN: God, I don't have time to even edit this, so you get what you get. I know, it's slow, but I wanted to explain their first meeting. PLEASE REVIEW. I'M BEGGING. I know it's not that good, but hold on, alright? Have faith.