Ch 13 Inside Confessions
A/N: Hey, I'm feeling good today...now presenting...
Ch 13 Inside Confessions
A good song to listen to while reading Jesse's POV is Stacie Orrico's I Promise: D (Just it's in Jesse's POV) Don't know what it is? E-mail me! Also, listen to that at every sentimental moment! Please! R&R!!! Rated Pg- 13 for sexual suggestions.
Suze's POV
As Jesse ate, I said I had a stomach ache so I snuck upstairs to my room, or now, our room as my mom called and asked me if I wanted Pepto-Bismol.
Hmm...where's Crissi, Pawn lady, and Paul in all of this?
I got to my room, locked the door and looked at Jesse's bed next to mine. I sighed and sat on my bed, wondering where Jesse put his diary. Then I felt my butt get wet. I knew that my period ended not to long ago so it couldn't be me. I got up and looked at the bed.
It was wet. Did Max or Spike wet themselves up here? I pulled my hair back and studied the unidentified liquid. It couldn't be them...
Then a thought occurred; the dream.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember it. Father Dom was squirting holy water on the floor; could it be a metaphor and that it was actually my BED that Father Dom was blessing? Why would he THINK that?! Oh wait, don't tell me...
Jesse told me that he was in my room when it happened; where he was killed and reincarnated. Ironic, isn't it?
Okay, so Father Dom blessed my bed, no big deal, right? Not, I remembered when Father Dom told me not to use my "Feminine wiles" against Jesse... (The book Haunted for us Americans.)
I got up, and sat on Jesse's bed. It was soft...and warm as if he just got out of bed. I couldn't wait! We were roommates and we can talk, and hang, and-chill.
I opened his drawer, trying to find it. You know what I mean, his diary.
The first drawer was full of neat little piles (Compared to mine, it was like, heaven while mine was...) of clothes that Father Dom bought for him, all his clothes were in there and it all fit! I swear, he had like twenty new shirts (some that I know he'd look hot in) fifty pairs of pants and shorts, and other guy stuff.
I remembered the looks on Adam and Cee Cee's faces when they saw Jesse, Cee kept bugging me and making me tell her who Jesse was and how come she didn't know him, and so was Adam. I refused to tell them and I said that I'd save it for the party (Somehow they got invited too. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Prescott made her invite everyone to their mansion. Evil rich people.)
The second drawer was pull of odd trinkets that guys would have, except this drawer was blended with the old days and now; a pocket knife, a watch, pens and pencils, string, books, a Swiss Army Knife, a compass, first aid, hankies (HANKIES?!) money, weird Spanish stuff, the really bad pictures of me that I threw out (hmm...weird, I thought I burned this one) and then I struck gold; I noticed an inconspicuous little strap on the side of the drawer, like a trap door. I pulled on the strap and it opened, in it, was his diary.
I gleefully pulled it out and turned it over; it was small, red and nicely bound with leather and a lock. I guess he had a feeling that I'd find it. On it was some weird Spanish stuff but I ignored it. Engraved in it was the name, "Hector de Silva" in nice, flowing manuscript. (A/N: if you have Microsoft Word, use the font Kaufmann BT, size 16) I looked around, feeling guiltier and guiltier and like a hacker.
I rummaged around and found the key, hanging on a hook. Stupid me. I stuck the key in the lock and I heard a click; it opened. I stalled before I read it.
Will I be losing Jesse's trust?
I cared, but I NEEDED answers!
I opened the first page and realized that this journal seemed new, because there were only two entries, but it explained a lot, they were all about me. I saw flowing cursive and realized that it was Jesse's handwriting. I started reading. (A/N: Use the font Amazon if you have it, copy this, and paste it and read; Jesse has nice handwriting!)
My Dearest Querida If Susannah was the sun, High in the sky,
Then I would be the ground, Infested without life
I am the lowly, The lowest of the Low
While she is a jewel of the sky, Shining her rays of beauty everywhere
Paul is the cloud that floats across Susannah Blocking splendor from all, including me
He is high in the air Breathing its freshest
While I am on the polluted, littered ground Staring in awe at the clean sky
I am trampled, tossed around And yet important like querida
When Paul is through of his filth, he rains on me leaving me to clean
up after him While he steals my querida and leaves me weeping
When she sets over the horizon, I say, "I love you querida," (But it's not enough expression) And wait until the next time I see her beautiful face
Yet I am like the moon, Always chasing her
But she always gets away Always
As if she were water cupped between my fingers Dripping away from my grasp
When I do catch her, she escapes And yet I can't have her For I am dead And can't give her life Or anything like that for that matter
But I love you, querida No matter what I love you
I don't know why I wrote that, I just did, in honor of Susannah. I wrote this in five minutes, do you think its good enough, God?
Wednesday, August Second; In the Hospital Waiting Room.
12:00 p.m.
The sun is shining; bright and beautiful, just like Susannah's face. All I think about is her!
I'm in the waiting room, waiting for Susannah. I am writing in this diary. I have decided to start recording my thoughts, just like how I had before I died. Susannah is the love of my love-yet- I still haven't admitted my feelings for her. I am such a coward. Her beautiful eyes, hair, everything about her is perfect, even her personality. I remember the first time I met Susannah, and at first, I thought it would be some popular cheerleader who couldn't see me, but I was wrong. Susannah turned out to be the most perfect girl I had ever known and yet I can't do anything about it. I'm not good enough for her. She deserves better than a teenager that has been dead for over a hundred years, but I can't help but love her. Ever since that visit from Crissi earlier, my love for Susannah has increased. I can't believe Crissi is so much different from her. If I could, I'd donate everything just to have Susannah live; but I can't. But she lives, because of Paul, Paul's blood. Paul's filthy blood (His blood was flowing in me?!) is flowing in querida's veins at the moment! Yet again, I am burning in hell for this is pain, and it is too painful to express on paper. Recalling today, I truly do love Susannah, yet Paul loves her too. We made a deal to see who would earn Susannah's love; I think Paul is winning. Of course he's winning, Paul always wins.
A new subject; that one is depressing and I might have to rip out these two pages; what if Susannah reads this?
How am I alive? I remember cursing God (Which I am truly sorry, Lord) and I was jealous and angry; I walked past the mirror and saw my reflection. Just like that, I was alive. Thank you God for giving me life instead of eternal damnation!
My friends back when I was alive would have already dishonored Querida, when we were all young, they would always sleep with a girl if she was beautiful, yet dumb. They didn't care about her virtue or virginity; all they cared about was if the girl was good at making love. Later, I broke off our acquaintance, for I could never dishonor a woman or Susannah for that matter. When Crissi wanted me to, I drew the line and left, just like old days.
I'm alive though That thought had never occurred before That I'd be alive once more.
Yet now I have the opportunity to do what my friends would have done a long time ago, but I won't. Even if Susannah's mother won't mind. I was thinking, if I stay alive of course, that when Susannah's in college or graduated, I was going to propose.
Stupid, huh? Well that's how much I love Susannah. She is worth my death, undying love, and all the things that matter in life.
I've got to go, Susannah's coming and I don't want her to read this.
Signed, Jesse PS, God, help me; what should I tell Susannah? And give me the will to RESIST TEMPTAION!
I felt a tear slide down my cheek. How beautiful! I wasn't crying because I was sad, because I was so moved by this.
So this is how Jesse felt about me. I felt myself collapsed onto the ground. God, this is the real deal, huh. But does he really care about me? Was this an act? I needed to hear this from Jesse. I glanced at the calendar. "Wednesday" Two days until the party. Would Jesse come with me?
I went to my bed and sat on the dry part. Did he love me? Did he really? I flipped through the pages, seeing if there was something else.
Then I heard the doorknob move.
"SUSANNAH! OPEN THE DOOR please!" I thought it was Brad since I wasn't use to Jesse being alive and I called, "Hold on, I'm almost done!"
"Susannah, please don't read it! Don't whatever you do, don't read it."
"TOO LATE!" I thought he meant the magazine I sneaked into my room that was his, honestly, Brad sounds like a lot of people.
I heard someone leave. HA! See? I'm powerful.
I was trying to recap what I just read by reading it again, (wishing I had a photographic memory at the moment, it was just like reading Jesse's letters) when I heard the lock click (Brad isn't THAT smart, uh oh...) and then the door swung open.
It was Jesse, looking mad and holding a screwdriver in his hand.
"Susannah!" he yelled and darted over to my bed, to find that I just finished the thing. I think he noticed my tears...
"What are you doing? Can't you hear me?"
I didn't answer him, instead I got up since my feet fell asleep and then I asked if he liked me.
Jesse didn't reply since then MOM burst in.
It was almost as bad as the condom dream. "Honey, wash your clothes."
I glared at Jesse and then I marched right on out, leaving Jesse in my dirt. What a jack arse! Yeah he had nice handwriting but he gets away with everything!
I went to my bathroom and threw my clothes in the bin and carrying the basket, ran past "our" bedroom. I was mad at Jesse for yelling at me. No guy would ever get away with that without an apology.
Especially not Jesse. I knew he was different.
I was in the laundry room pouring detergent when Jesse walked in.
"Susannah?" he asked meekly.
"Go away before I toss this at you," and to make my point, I poured some detergent in the cup and flung it at him. I heard some land on his nice polo shirt. We were still wearing what we wore when we went on that magical horseback ride, ditch the fact that we dried off a little.
"I just wanted to ask if you read it all." He said, pouring a lot of detergent into the cup.
"No, I didn't read it at all-" I was trying to play blonde, "-I just was admiring your nice handwriting." I said coolly.
"Good," said Jesse and I felt something cold land on me. I looked down; it was blue and gooey.
Detergent. Jesse threw detergent at me.
"HEY!" I shouted and grabbed the carton. "NO ONE DUMPS DETERGENT ON ME AND GETS AWAY WITH IT." I bent down, pulled out a stool from beneath the sink and got on it. Then I dumped the whole carton onto Jesse's head, shaking it a couple of times to get rid of it all.
HEY-I wasn't being non-conservative, but there were only what-two pints left in that two gallon thing, okay?
Jesse spluttered and spit it out. HE smiled and said, "It tastes terrible." And then he knocked me over and started tickling me. I started squirming around like an infant and he kept tickling me. I hate being tickled, God, it makes me laugh so hard it hurts my sides, and it didn't help that I had stitches. The ground was really slippery so when I tried to get up, I ended up falling on him, knocking the wind out of him. My shirt was way wet.
We were like WWF big time. We were wrestling and having a good old time, ignoring the big mess we made.
We were laughing so hard, yelling so loud, and acting all violent that we didn't notice that Jake came in with a basket full of laundry.
"Whoa, Suze, what are you doing to him? Stop attacking him!" We both looked up. Jake had a look of half disgust, half joy and exhilaration on his face.
"Suze, are you really THAT wild? Oh, sorry for ruining the moment, I knew it wasn't safe to have Mom let that dude in."
Jesse and I looked down and it looked like a very-odd position. I was on top of Jesse, clearly winning the wrestling match and clearly in Jake's point of view, getting all hot and heavy. I had my legs wrapped around Jesse trying to get up and we were all soaked in detergent. My hands were on the floor and we were really close...
I quickly got up and burst out laughing.
"YOU-You-*laugh*-Act-actually-Th-thought that, I was MAKING *Laugh* OUT with-with, Jesse?" I was acting as if I didn't like Jesse.
Jake shook his head, "You two are so busted, man."
He was right; the floor was a mess. Jesse got up too and tried to clean up the mess.
"Sorry, we-just got mad at each other and we were fighting and then-she slipped and pulled me down and we were...trying to get up?" What a lame excuse, but I was embarrassed.
I didn't even get to finish my wash!
"Err, listen-I'll make you a deal-I do your wash and you don't tell anyone, fair?"
Jake shrugged. "Sure. Listen; I'm leaving to go back to college, I'll see you later." Then to Jesse he said, "Hey, take care of her; she's tough on the outside but a marshmallow on the inside, and don't get too carried away like Brad, but even he's not THAT extreme..."
"Thanks for the tip." Said Jesse and he left to my room.
I punched Jake lightly on the arm. "Hey-don't make me sound like a prune or something, anyway, see you soon, you'll be back Saturday, right?"
Jake nodded. "See you." I nodded and left to hear Jake call up the stairs, "WHAT ABOUT THE DEAL? YOU WASH THE CLOTHES AND I DON'T TELL?"
"I, err...got to take a bath, can you do it?"
"Sure, make the big bro do all the hardship..." Jake grumbled. YAY, he's maturing, what a good boy!
I ran up the stairs and into my room, to see it all neat and organized.
"Hey," I said, "What'd you do to my room?"
Jesse was sitting on the window seat, staring at the sky and petting (the lucky demon) Spike.
"I arranged it for you, except that clothes pile you forgot to wash." I heard myself dripping; I needed a bath, so did Jesse.
"Hey Jesse, need to take a bath and wash off?" I asked as I threw the clothes down the stairs. I tried to close the door but the door was officially busted.
"Sure, where'll you be taking your bath?"
I shrugged. "I can use the bathtub; you can use the shower room. No biggie. Don't worry, there's a door and a wall, tinted windows, and curtains. Plus, I'll wear a bikini."
Jesse got up. "I suppose, let's go."
We both left a squishy trail of detergent.
I grabbed my bikini and six towels; one for me to dry myself as for one for Jesse, one to step on for me, one for him, one to tie around Jesse when he came out and one for me. I tossed his three towels to him. (They were blue with hearts on them and cute!)
I went into the tub room as I call it, turned on a tap, squirmed into my two-piece, and got into my Jasmine bath. I smelled the scent of soap and grabbed the loofa and rubbed soap all over. Then I plopped in an oil bubble thingy, lit a couple scented candles (I felt like relaxing! Gosh, can't a girl do that in peace?) turned on that relaxing music that I play when trying to calm myself that sounds like the ocean, a waterfall, rain, crickets, etc and I was floating in my tub (It's a Jacuzzi, what do you expect?) when I heard a knock.
I groaned. Gosh, can't a girl get some peace? I got out of my bubble bath, tied a towel around myself and asked, "Who is it?" It was hard to hear who it was over the cicadas (hey, I was visualizing that I was in a plain, okay?) but I heard:
"It's Jesse, I left my toothbrush, brush, and floss in there, and can I get it? I want to sleep right now."
Err...
"Sure thing, hold on." I tied the towel tighter around my chest, careful around my stitches (if you're wondering how my stitches last through all that, they don't-I put cream on them and everything but it still hurts like HECK! I look like Frankenstein and unfortunately, the bikini doesn't cover it at all)
Then I opened the door, to see Jesse wearing one of HOT, SUPER FINE under shirts that guys wear (that are SUPER TIGHT and show off the BEAUTIFUL six packs) and really baggy shorts there, with a towel slung over his shoulder. I swear to God, he looked like one of those clothes model who model underwear.
He must have been surprised at what he saw because he turned red and asked if he could have his "tooth-wear" (consisting of all that tooth stuff) I shrugged and beckoned him in, because I couldn't find it in all that steam. I swear, it was like a steam bath. The music switched to waterfalls but it didn't sound as good as the one Jesse showed me earlier. I muttered mediocrity, and I was able to catch this thought, "Susannah looks like an angel...only without so much...dressage." I quickly muttered excel.
"Susannah, why's it so hot in here?" Jesse asked, rubbing his hand in a circular motion over the mirror.
"I don't know," I was exercising my spine, only to wince in pain as I hit the bruise. Great way to top it all off, you know with my would-be boyfriend thinking that I'm a hooker/angel.
"And why are there candles in here?"
"I don't know."
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
"No you're not, you're wincing, is it your bruise?"
Gosh, is he my mama?
"Or is it your stitches?" he walked over to the candles, licked his thumb and forefinger and put out all my candles. How do people do that? Grr...my bath is RUINED!!
Then he opened a w-i-n-d-o-w, okay? A window! And that just blew away an hour's work of steaming. Jesse pressed the stop button on the CD player and carried me out.
"Come on, you've been in there for two hours,"-really? Wow, it felt like a minute-"Change into your nightgown and go to bed."
Nightgown? What nightgown? I know no nightgown...
"Uh, Jesse? Newsflash; girls nowadays wear something we call, 'pajamas' and I left them in my room, can you go get them?"
He nodded only too willingly and handed my PJs to me. They're leopard patterned and awesome looking; I paid fifty bucks for them.
I ran into the bathroom, changed, brushed my teeth, flossed, took my vitamins, and ran out, ready to punch a punching bag and lift some weights or do yoga.
Then a thought occurred; I haven't been bugged by Pawn Lady...
Instead, Jesse the dictator had other plans. As soon as I bent down to pick up my dumbbell, he stopped me. "Oh no...you are relaxing and recovering."
I started to protest but Jesse pushed me to my bed. "Off you go." He said lightly.
I glowered at him and burrowed into my soft blankies.
I snuggled into my stuffed animal and rolled over and heard a crick in my spine. I got up and accidentally jabbing it into my stomach with the bruise.
I flopped back onto my back.
"Ouch!" I gasped. I started cursing and Jesse came.
"Querida! Are you alright? What's wrong?"
"Back!*gasp* I'm *gasp* getting *wheeze* old! Back! Painful!" I tensed.
Jesse lifted me up and carried me to my bed (No, he wasn't sexually harassing me). He gently laid me down and asked where it hurt. I pointed to my spine and Jesse started MASSAGING my back.
Lucky me, it's not everyday you get massaged by a hottie now is it?
I thought so, especially if I'm ON his bed, yeah, I know, dream on, but I was!
It felt real nice, let me tell you. I started to relax and then I fell asleep like that; in paradise.
On Jesse's bed.
Even though I was asleep, I felt Jesse tuck me into bed and sleep next to me, on top of the blankets, not with me.
He loves me, doesn't he?
A/N: How did you like it? REVIEW!!!!
Please?!?!?!
A/N: Hey, I'm feeling good today...now presenting...
Ch 13 Inside Confessions
A good song to listen to while reading Jesse's POV is Stacie Orrico's I Promise: D (Just it's in Jesse's POV) Don't know what it is? E-mail me! Also, listen to that at every sentimental moment! Please! R&R!!! Rated Pg- 13 for sexual suggestions.
Suze's POV
As Jesse ate, I said I had a stomach ache so I snuck upstairs to my room, or now, our room as my mom called and asked me if I wanted Pepto-Bismol.
Hmm...where's Crissi, Pawn lady, and Paul in all of this?
I got to my room, locked the door and looked at Jesse's bed next to mine. I sighed and sat on my bed, wondering where Jesse put his diary. Then I felt my butt get wet. I knew that my period ended not to long ago so it couldn't be me. I got up and looked at the bed.
It was wet. Did Max or Spike wet themselves up here? I pulled my hair back and studied the unidentified liquid. It couldn't be them...
Then a thought occurred; the dream.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember it. Father Dom was squirting holy water on the floor; could it be a metaphor and that it was actually my BED that Father Dom was blessing? Why would he THINK that?! Oh wait, don't tell me...
Jesse told me that he was in my room when it happened; where he was killed and reincarnated. Ironic, isn't it?
Okay, so Father Dom blessed my bed, no big deal, right? Not, I remembered when Father Dom told me not to use my "Feminine wiles" against Jesse... (The book Haunted for us Americans.)
I got up, and sat on Jesse's bed. It was soft...and warm as if he just got out of bed. I couldn't wait! We were roommates and we can talk, and hang, and-chill.
I opened his drawer, trying to find it. You know what I mean, his diary.
The first drawer was full of neat little piles (Compared to mine, it was like, heaven while mine was...) of clothes that Father Dom bought for him, all his clothes were in there and it all fit! I swear, he had like twenty new shirts (some that I know he'd look hot in) fifty pairs of pants and shorts, and other guy stuff.
I remembered the looks on Adam and Cee Cee's faces when they saw Jesse, Cee kept bugging me and making me tell her who Jesse was and how come she didn't know him, and so was Adam. I refused to tell them and I said that I'd save it for the party (Somehow they got invited too. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Prescott made her invite everyone to their mansion. Evil rich people.)
The second drawer was pull of odd trinkets that guys would have, except this drawer was blended with the old days and now; a pocket knife, a watch, pens and pencils, string, books, a Swiss Army Knife, a compass, first aid, hankies (HANKIES?!) money, weird Spanish stuff, the really bad pictures of me that I threw out (hmm...weird, I thought I burned this one) and then I struck gold; I noticed an inconspicuous little strap on the side of the drawer, like a trap door. I pulled on the strap and it opened, in it, was his diary.
I gleefully pulled it out and turned it over; it was small, red and nicely bound with leather and a lock. I guess he had a feeling that I'd find it. On it was some weird Spanish stuff but I ignored it. Engraved in it was the name, "Hector de Silva" in nice, flowing manuscript. (A/N: if you have Microsoft Word, use the font Kaufmann BT, size 16) I looked around, feeling guiltier and guiltier and like a hacker.
I rummaged around and found the key, hanging on a hook. Stupid me. I stuck the key in the lock and I heard a click; it opened. I stalled before I read it.
Will I be losing Jesse's trust?
I cared, but I NEEDED answers!
I opened the first page and realized that this journal seemed new, because there were only two entries, but it explained a lot, they were all about me. I saw flowing cursive and realized that it was Jesse's handwriting. I started reading. (A/N: Use the font Amazon if you have it, copy this, and paste it and read; Jesse has nice handwriting!)
My Dearest Querida If Susannah was the sun, High in the sky,
Then I would be the ground, Infested without life
I am the lowly, The lowest of the Low
While she is a jewel of the sky, Shining her rays of beauty everywhere
Paul is the cloud that floats across Susannah Blocking splendor from all, including me
He is high in the air Breathing its freshest
While I am on the polluted, littered ground Staring in awe at the clean sky
I am trampled, tossed around And yet important like querida
When Paul is through of his filth, he rains on me leaving me to clean
up after him While he steals my querida and leaves me weeping
When she sets over the horizon, I say, "I love you querida," (But it's not enough expression) And wait until the next time I see her beautiful face
Yet I am like the moon, Always chasing her
But she always gets away Always
As if she were water cupped between my fingers Dripping away from my grasp
When I do catch her, she escapes And yet I can't have her For I am dead And can't give her life Or anything like that for that matter
But I love you, querida No matter what I love you
I don't know why I wrote that, I just did, in honor of Susannah. I wrote this in five minutes, do you think its good enough, God?
Wednesday, August Second; In the Hospital Waiting Room.
12:00 p.m.
The sun is shining; bright and beautiful, just like Susannah's face. All I think about is her!
I'm in the waiting room, waiting for Susannah. I am writing in this diary. I have decided to start recording my thoughts, just like how I had before I died. Susannah is the love of my love-yet- I still haven't admitted my feelings for her. I am such a coward. Her beautiful eyes, hair, everything about her is perfect, even her personality. I remember the first time I met Susannah, and at first, I thought it would be some popular cheerleader who couldn't see me, but I was wrong. Susannah turned out to be the most perfect girl I had ever known and yet I can't do anything about it. I'm not good enough for her. She deserves better than a teenager that has been dead for over a hundred years, but I can't help but love her. Ever since that visit from Crissi earlier, my love for Susannah has increased. I can't believe Crissi is so much different from her. If I could, I'd donate everything just to have Susannah live; but I can't. But she lives, because of Paul, Paul's blood. Paul's filthy blood (His blood was flowing in me?!) is flowing in querida's veins at the moment! Yet again, I am burning in hell for this is pain, and it is too painful to express on paper. Recalling today, I truly do love Susannah, yet Paul loves her too. We made a deal to see who would earn Susannah's love; I think Paul is winning. Of course he's winning, Paul always wins.
A new subject; that one is depressing and I might have to rip out these two pages; what if Susannah reads this?
How am I alive? I remember cursing God (Which I am truly sorry, Lord) and I was jealous and angry; I walked past the mirror and saw my reflection. Just like that, I was alive. Thank you God for giving me life instead of eternal damnation!
My friends back when I was alive would have already dishonored Querida, when we were all young, they would always sleep with a girl if she was beautiful, yet dumb. They didn't care about her virtue or virginity; all they cared about was if the girl was good at making love. Later, I broke off our acquaintance, for I could never dishonor a woman or Susannah for that matter. When Crissi wanted me to, I drew the line and left, just like old days.
I'm alive though That thought had never occurred before That I'd be alive once more.
Yet now I have the opportunity to do what my friends would have done a long time ago, but I won't. Even if Susannah's mother won't mind. I was thinking, if I stay alive of course, that when Susannah's in college or graduated, I was going to propose.
Stupid, huh? Well that's how much I love Susannah. She is worth my death, undying love, and all the things that matter in life.
I've got to go, Susannah's coming and I don't want her to read this.
Signed, Jesse PS, God, help me; what should I tell Susannah? And give me the will to RESIST TEMPTAION!
I felt a tear slide down my cheek. How beautiful! I wasn't crying because I was sad, because I was so moved by this.
So this is how Jesse felt about me. I felt myself collapsed onto the ground. God, this is the real deal, huh. But does he really care about me? Was this an act? I needed to hear this from Jesse. I glanced at the calendar. "Wednesday" Two days until the party. Would Jesse come with me?
I went to my bed and sat on the dry part. Did he love me? Did he really? I flipped through the pages, seeing if there was something else.
Then I heard the doorknob move.
"SUSANNAH! OPEN THE DOOR please!" I thought it was Brad since I wasn't use to Jesse being alive and I called, "Hold on, I'm almost done!"
"Susannah, please don't read it! Don't whatever you do, don't read it."
"TOO LATE!" I thought he meant the magazine I sneaked into my room that was his, honestly, Brad sounds like a lot of people.
I heard someone leave. HA! See? I'm powerful.
I was trying to recap what I just read by reading it again, (wishing I had a photographic memory at the moment, it was just like reading Jesse's letters) when I heard the lock click (Brad isn't THAT smart, uh oh...) and then the door swung open.
It was Jesse, looking mad and holding a screwdriver in his hand.
"Susannah!" he yelled and darted over to my bed, to find that I just finished the thing. I think he noticed my tears...
"What are you doing? Can't you hear me?"
I didn't answer him, instead I got up since my feet fell asleep and then I asked if he liked me.
Jesse didn't reply since then MOM burst in.
It was almost as bad as the condom dream. "Honey, wash your clothes."
I glared at Jesse and then I marched right on out, leaving Jesse in my dirt. What a jack arse! Yeah he had nice handwriting but he gets away with everything!
I went to my bathroom and threw my clothes in the bin and carrying the basket, ran past "our" bedroom. I was mad at Jesse for yelling at me. No guy would ever get away with that without an apology.
Especially not Jesse. I knew he was different.
I was in the laundry room pouring detergent when Jesse walked in.
"Susannah?" he asked meekly.
"Go away before I toss this at you," and to make my point, I poured some detergent in the cup and flung it at him. I heard some land on his nice polo shirt. We were still wearing what we wore when we went on that magical horseback ride, ditch the fact that we dried off a little.
"I just wanted to ask if you read it all." He said, pouring a lot of detergent into the cup.
"No, I didn't read it at all-" I was trying to play blonde, "-I just was admiring your nice handwriting." I said coolly.
"Good," said Jesse and I felt something cold land on me. I looked down; it was blue and gooey.
Detergent. Jesse threw detergent at me.
"HEY!" I shouted and grabbed the carton. "NO ONE DUMPS DETERGENT ON ME AND GETS AWAY WITH IT." I bent down, pulled out a stool from beneath the sink and got on it. Then I dumped the whole carton onto Jesse's head, shaking it a couple of times to get rid of it all.
HEY-I wasn't being non-conservative, but there were only what-two pints left in that two gallon thing, okay?
Jesse spluttered and spit it out. HE smiled and said, "It tastes terrible." And then he knocked me over and started tickling me. I started squirming around like an infant and he kept tickling me. I hate being tickled, God, it makes me laugh so hard it hurts my sides, and it didn't help that I had stitches. The ground was really slippery so when I tried to get up, I ended up falling on him, knocking the wind out of him. My shirt was way wet.
We were like WWF big time. We were wrestling and having a good old time, ignoring the big mess we made.
We were laughing so hard, yelling so loud, and acting all violent that we didn't notice that Jake came in with a basket full of laundry.
"Whoa, Suze, what are you doing to him? Stop attacking him!" We both looked up. Jake had a look of half disgust, half joy and exhilaration on his face.
"Suze, are you really THAT wild? Oh, sorry for ruining the moment, I knew it wasn't safe to have Mom let that dude in."
Jesse and I looked down and it looked like a very-odd position. I was on top of Jesse, clearly winning the wrestling match and clearly in Jake's point of view, getting all hot and heavy. I had my legs wrapped around Jesse trying to get up and we were all soaked in detergent. My hands were on the floor and we were really close...
I quickly got up and burst out laughing.
"YOU-You-*laugh*-Act-actually-Th-thought that, I was MAKING *Laugh* OUT with-with, Jesse?" I was acting as if I didn't like Jesse.
Jake shook his head, "You two are so busted, man."
He was right; the floor was a mess. Jesse got up too and tried to clean up the mess.
"Sorry, we-just got mad at each other and we were fighting and then-she slipped and pulled me down and we were...trying to get up?" What a lame excuse, but I was embarrassed.
I didn't even get to finish my wash!
"Err, listen-I'll make you a deal-I do your wash and you don't tell anyone, fair?"
Jake shrugged. "Sure. Listen; I'm leaving to go back to college, I'll see you later." Then to Jesse he said, "Hey, take care of her; she's tough on the outside but a marshmallow on the inside, and don't get too carried away like Brad, but even he's not THAT extreme..."
"Thanks for the tip." Said Jesse and he left to my room.
I punched Jake lightly on the arm. "Hey-don't make me sound like a prune or something, anyway, see you soon, you'll be back Saturday, right?"
Jake nodded. "See you." I nodded and left to hear Jake call up the stairs, "WHAT ABOUT THE DEAL? YOU WASH THE CLOTHES AND I DON'T TELL?"
"I, err...got to take a bath, can you do it?"
"Sure, make the big bro do all the hardship..." Jake grumbled. YAY, he's maturing, what a good boy!
I ran up the stairs and into my room, to see it all neat and organized.
"Hey," I said, "What'd you do to my room?"
Jesse was sitting on the window seat, staring at the sky and petting (the lucky demon) Spike.
"I arranged it for you, except that clothes pile you forgot to wash." I heard myself dripping; I needed a bath, so did Jesse.
"Hey Jesse, need to take a bath and wash off?" I asked as I threw the clothes down the stairs. I tried to close the door but the door was officially busted.
"Sure, where'll you be taking your bath?"
I shrugged. "I can use the bathtub; you can use the shower room. No biggie. Don't worry, there's a door and a wall, tinted windows, and curtains. Plus, I'll wear a bikini."
Jesse got up. "I suppose, let's go."
We both left a squishy trail of detergent.
I grabbed my bikini and six towels; one for me to dry myself as for one for Jesse, one to step on for me, one for him, one to tie around Jesse when he came out and one for me. I tossed his three towels to him. (They were blue with hearts on them and cute!)
I went into the tub room as I call it, turned on a tap, squirmed into my two-piece, and got into my Jasmine bath. I smelled the scent of soap and grabbed the loofa and rubbed soap all over. Then I plopped in an oil bubble thingy, lit a couple scented candles (I felt like relaxing! Gosh, can't a girl do that in peace?) turned on that relaxing music that I play when trying to calm myself that sounds like the ocean, a waterfall, rain, crickets, etc and I was floating in my tub (It's a Jacuzzi, what do you expect?) when I heard a knock.
I groaned. Gosh, can't a girl get some peace? I got out of my bubble bath, tied a towel around myself and asked, "Who is it?" It was hard to hear who it was over the cicadas (hey, I was visualizing that I was in a plain, okay?) but I heard:
"It's Jesse, I left my toothbrush, brush, and floss in there, and can I get it? I want to sleep right now."
Err...
"Sure thing, hold on." I tied the towel tighter around my chest, careful around my stitches (if you're wondering how my stitches last through all that, they don't-I put cream on them and everything but it still hurts like HECK! I look like Frankenstein and unfortunately, the bikini doesn't cover it at all)
Then I opened the door, to see Jesse wearing one of HOT, SUPER FINE under shirts that guys wear (that are SUPER TIGHT and show off the BEAUTIFUL six packs) and really baggy shorts there, with a towel slung over his shoulder. I swear to God, he looked like one of those clothes model who model underwear.
He must have been surprised at what he saw because he turned red and asked if he could have his "tooth-wear" (consisting of all that tooth stuff) I shrugged and beckoned him in, because I couldn't find it in all that steam. I swear, it was like a steam bath. The music switched to waterfalls but it didn't sound as good as the one Jesse showed me earlier. I muttered mediocrity, and I was able to catch this thought, "Susannah looks like an angel...only without so much...dressage." I quickly muttered excel.
"Susannah, why's it so hot in here?" Jesse asked, rubbing his hand in a circular motion over the mirror.
"I don't know," I was exercising my spine, only to wince in pain as I hit the bruise. Great way to top it all off, you know with my would-be boyfriend thinking that I'm a hooker/angel.
"And why are there candles in here?"
"I don't know."
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know."
"No you're not, you're wincing, is it your bruise?"
Gosh, is he my mama?
"Or is it your stitches?" he walked over to the candles, licked his thumb and forefinger and put out all my candles. How do people do that? Grr...my bath is RUINED!!
Then he opened a w-i-n-d-o-w, okay? A window! And that just blew away an hour's work of steaming. Jesse pressed the stop button on the CD player and carried me out.
"Come on, you've been in there for two hours,"-really? Wow, it felt like a minute-"Change into your nightgown and go to bed."
Nightgown? What nightgown? I know no nightgown...
"Uh, Jesse? Newsflash; girls nowadays wear something we call, 'pajamas' and I left them in my room, can you go get them?"
He nodded only too willingly and handed my PJs to me. They're leopard patterned and awesome looking; I paid fifty bucks for them.
I ran into the bathroom, changed, brushed my teeth, flossed, took my vitamins, and ran out, ready to punch a punching bag and lift some weights or do yoga.
Then a thought occurred; I haven't been bugged by Pawn Lady...
Instead, Jesse the dictator had other plans. As soon as I bent down to pick up my dumbbell, he stopped me. "Oh no...you are relaxing and recovering."
I started to protest but Jesse pushed me to my bed. "Off you go." He said lightly.
I glowered at him and burrowed into my soft blankies.
I snuggled into my stuffed animal and rolled over and heard a crick in my spine. I got up and accidentally jabbing it into my stomach with the bruise.
I flopped back onto my back.
"Ouch!" I gasped. I started cursing and Jesse came.
"Querida! Are you alright? What's wrong?"
"Back!*gasp* I'm *gasp* getting *wheeze* old! Back! Painful!" I tensed.
Jesse lifted me up and carried me to my bed (No, he wasn't sexually harassing me). He gently laid me down and asked where it hurt. I pointed to my spine and Jesse started MASSAGING my back.
Lucky me, it's not everyday you get massaged by a hottie now is it?
I thought so, especially if I'm ON his bed, yeah, I know, dream on, but I was!
It felt real nice, let me tell you. I started to relax and then I fell asleep like that; in paradise.
On Jesse's bed.
Even though I was asleep, I felt Jesse tuck me into bed and sleep next to me, on top of the blankets, not with me.
He loves me, doesn't he?
A/N: How did you like it? REVIEW!!!!
Please?!?!?!