Hello once again! It's that time again. You know. The time to update.

Also, I'm sorry that I haven't had a chance to reply to all of your looovely reviews. I promise I will in the next chapter, though. In the meantime…I present to you chapter six!

A Neverending Story

Chapter Six-Could It Be Love?

Funny how after not having anything to do for 150 years, just a little excitement can get you hungry for more. I'm embarrassed to admit that I got kind of antsy while waiting for Jesse to finish his dinner; I even got up off the window seat and started pacing. Sheesh, how long could it take to eat a meal?

But when Jesse came back upstairs, looking kind of down, I decided to leave him alone. After all, he looked like he had had a rough day. He just nodded to me as if to give a greeting and then shut himself in the bathroom, the door clicking behind him. I sighed once again, disappointed at the lack of enthusiasm in tonight's adventures.

The next day I spent reading one of my favorite books, Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. (A/N I chose that book only because it's from her time period. I kind of doubt Suze would be reading something like Harry Potter.) Down in the De Silva household, Mrs. De Silva, who was currently a stay-at-home mom, was looking for a new job. Her youngest child was now 7, old enough to be in elementary school, so I could tell that Mrs. De Silva was getting bored being in the house all the time. I thought her situation to be similar to mine. I spent some time watching her, and wished I could talk to her. I had a feeling that we could relate.

When Jesse didn't get home at his usual time, which was around 3:30, I was a little worried. Well, actually more like annoyed…annoyed at the fact that he probably had something to do in the afternoons, much unlike me. It was embarrassing to admit that I spent a large portion of the day just waiting for him, waiting for a guy who I had just met a few days before. It was only that I had no one else to talk to. Or that was what I kept telling myself. I think a part of me was drawn to him, in a way that I hadn't ever been drawn to anyone else. It was unexplainable.

I didn't understand it. And I wasn't sure that I was ready to.

When my curiosity finally got the better of me, I decided to go down to the mission to see what was holding him up. When I got there, it was empty, save for a few novices scattered around in prayer. Next, I checked the "Coffee Clutch," which seemed to be a popular place for the teenagers to hang out. Nearly all of the tables were occupied, and I was slightly taken aback with the young peoples' attire. I saw a group of kids wearing all black, their hair matching their dark ensembles. They were all looking murderously at another group of young girls wearing practically nothing but skirts that came down above mid-thigh and shirts that exposed much of their midriffs.

I know that fashion had changed since my time, but honestly, what were these people thinking when they had gotten dressed that morning, wearing clothes such as those? When I was alive, you could be sent to jail for wearing some of the things that they were wearing…or weren't wearing, I should say. And I thought that Jesse's clothes were a little out of the ordinary.

Getting over my initial shock of seeing these kinds of outfits, I continued my search for Jesse. Just as I was about to give up hope and dematerialize, out of the corner of my eye I saw someone push back their chair and stand up. I quickly spun around and realized that it was Jesse, dressed in deep blue jeans and a plain brown t-shirt that fit him in all the right places. When I got a better look at him I saw that he was holding out his hand to a young girl whose face was turned away from me. I silently ducked down behind a table occupied by a couple who seemed to be sitting awfully close together. Peering out from behind a smooth, silver leg of the table, I was just in time to see the glass door clang shut with the tinkling sound of bells.

Not wanting to be too obvious, I slowly walked over to where the large glass windows were and peeked out, watching Jesse and the mystery girl cross that parking lot crammed full of beat-up old cars. I still couldn't see the girl's face but from the back she had blond hair that almost shined in the sunlight, but appeared as though it was fake. She walked confidently, her stride elegant yet a bit seductive, tilting her head back every once and a while to laugh dramatically at something Jesse.

I looked down and noticed her hand, clad with rings that reflected the sunlight like mirrors, clinging onto Jesse's arm almost possessively. When I saw her hand there, something inside of me snapped. I seethed with anger, my eyes forming slits as I glared at the girl with the plastic-looking blond hair. Who did she think she was, walking like that with my Jesse? And why did she have to—

Wait a second.

Did I just refer to Jesse as "mine?" I cringed. 'No, there is no way I can think about Jesse like that. He is alive. I am dead. That's the only thing to it.' I shook my head sadly, suddenly not being able to bear the sight of Jesse and another girl. My eyes welled up with pools of tears and I tried to blink them away, embarrassed. I never cry. I wasn't about to start crying over Jesse.

Turning my back on Jesse and the girl, I took one last glance at the coffee shop and started to dematerialize, but something stopped me.

Sitting alone at a booth to my far left was a boy, about my age, if not a little older. He had icy blue eyes and dark, wavy hair that curled crisply along the nape of his neck. He was quite good looking, but seemed unaware of the countless young girls who kept shooting rapid glances in his direction and then whispering to their friends. In one of his hands was a black coffee, resting on a simple white saucer, and in the other was a thick book that he had open, his thumb acting as a bookmark.

However, his eyes were not resting on the many girls who kept peeking out from behind their friends to catch a glimpse of him, nor were they on the bulky book he held in his hand. No, his eyes were focused on me, just staring his icy stare that I felt all the way down to my toes. Suddenly, I no longer felt like crying. Instead, I felt as though I was somewhere else altogether, not in the noisy atmosphere filled with bustling teenagers. The sound drained out of my ears and all I could focus on was his chilling blue stare that made me shiver all over. The way that he looked at me was daring, almost sinister, and I felt empty inside at the way he smirked slightly.

I couldn't stand it any longer. Doing what I felt was the best possible solution, I dematerialized. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately, whenever I got myself into a sticky situation, didn't I?

I materialized, but made myself invisible, where I was sure Jesse was, which was the back of the car that I saw him get in. It was silver, looking expensive and sleek, which contrasted greatly to the junky cars I had seen in the coffee shop's parking lot. There were firm, leather seats that lined that the backseat of the interior, and the top was open so that the car was a convertible. Jesse and the girl were stopped in front of his (and my) house, the girl sitting on the driver's side and him sitting in the passenger seat.

I sighed irritably, wishing I could speak to him freely and be rid of this pesky girl. I really needed to talk to him right then, mostly about the stranger in the café. I materialized just in time to hear the last few words of their conversation.

"…had a really good time with you tonight, Jesse," said the teenager in a voice I'd often heard girls use when they were talking to men. You know, the whiny, flirty one.

Finally, I could see her face from the front. She had blue-green, almond shaped eyes, a small nose, and a mouth set in a pout. With her slim frame and tan skin, I was sorry to admit that she was rather attractive, but something about her told me that I wouldn't want to be friends with her if I ever had the opportunity.

This feeling increased dramatically when she ran her finger up the center of Jesse's chest slowly and then leaned forward to whisper seductively, "How about you?"

Without waiting for a reply, she sort of lunged at him and pushed her lips against his, all the while making some sickening groaning sounds that I am sorry to say were meant to be of pleasure. It was disgusting to watch.

I just sat in the back seat, my mouth hanging open in a very unattractive matter, and gaped at them in pure shock. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Once again, I was enraged.

I made myself visible and sat there silently, glaring at them, hoping to break up their little party. When they didn't notice my subtle attempts, I leaned in closer, so close that I could smell the sickeningly sweet scent of the girl's perfume. God, you don't know how much I hated that girl right then, how much I wanted to pound her and her excessive amount of makeup back to where she came from. I looked up at Jesse to see at how he was reacting to this, but I'm disgusted to admit that he seemed to be enjoying the kiss. Not being able to take it any longer, I cleared my throat slightly.

Jesse's eyes snapped open and he abruptly pulled away from the girl, startled. He looked from her to me, surprised, and muttered, "Nombre de Dios." Instantly, a look of guilt passed over his features and he fully pulled away from the girl, who by now looked very confused, not to mention upset. Well, it serves her right—she should be upset knowing what I had in store for her.

I knew that I had a murderous look on my face. Now I wanted to be away from Jesse, which was the complete opposite of my feelings before. It was just that…how could he have done that? I thought he was far more of an honorable man than to go about kissing things like that. Well, I didn't stick around to figure out the answer. Instead, I hoisted myself out of a sitting position, lifted my skirts up slightly, and roughly jumped over the side of the car, glad that it had no roof. I stumbled slightly when I hit the ground, but managed to stay upright. I know that I could have dematerialized, but jumping out of the car had seemed like a much more dramatic exit…at the time.

I heard Jesse say some things to his little "date," but I didn't stick around to hear what they were. Instead, I walked straight through the door, up the stairs, and sat defiantly on the window seat, waiting for Jesse to come up so that I could give him a good scolding.

It took him almost no time to mount the stairs, though I could hear his feet dragging as though he was regretting coming up in the first place. Immediately, he started in with his story.

"Susannah, I-" he began, but at once I cut him off.

"Jesse, what were you thinking, doing that with a girl you barely know? I thought you were brought up better than that! You're so-" Now it was his turn to cut me off. I know I sounded like his mother, but I was too infuriated to care.

"Susannah, I can explain. She came on to me! After school, she asked me to go down to the coffee shop so that I might meet some new people. You know, since I was new to this town. And that was all!" Jesse said sounding exasperated. He had a pleading look in his eyes, begging me to believe him. I wasn't fooled though.

"Sure, Jesse," I said sarcastically, "She came on to you. The same way she came on to you when she started kissing you like that? It was disgraceful!" I had calmed down a bit by this point, but my temper was still boiling, and any small thing would set me over the edge.

"I promise you, it wasn't like that!" he started, explaining.

"And you, kissing her back. So passionately. It makes me sick," I spat, careful not to look into his eyes. I knew that if I did, the tears that were glistening on the surface of my eyes were sure to fall, and I couldn't let him see that I was that close to crying.

I glanced up at Jesse, who looked guilty, and, to my surprise, hurt. He looked like he was going to say something, but then stopped himself. He opened his mouth once again and whispered, "Querida, I swear it wasn't like that. I admit, I got a little carried away, but she wouldn't stop! It wrong of me."

I looked up at him, tears cascading down my cheeks in waterfalls, blurring my vision ever so slightly. He took a step towards me and reached out his hand, his calloused thumb wiping away the tears that glistened on my cheeks. Our eyes met, and I was once again amazed at the hidden feeling behind the inky black surface. The contrast between Jesse's eyes and the penetrating blue eyes that belonged to the stranger I had seen earlier in the café was unnerving. The man's eyes were as light as Jesse's were dark.

I sniffed and then saw the concerned look on Jesse's face. In spite of myself, I gave a small laugh. Jesse looked surprised, but amused.

"And what is so funny, querida?" he asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Oh, nothing. Just that you have a bit of lipstick smudged on your cheek," I giggled, and at the same time wiped it off. Jesse turned an even darker shade of crimson. Suddenly, I decided to forget about the other girl (though not forgive her). I truly believed Jesse and his story…I mean, how could I not, with eyes as innocent as his? He seemed sincere. We stood there for a few more seconds, Jesse eventually joining in my laughter over the smudged lipstick on his cheek.

When we had stopped, Jesse shot me an accusing look and said, "By the way, querida, what were you doing in the back of Kelly's car anyway? Not spying, on me, I hope?"

Kelly. So that's what that little bitch—um, I mean friend of Jesse's name was. Then realizing what he had asked, I turned a shade of red that matched what Jesse's was just a few seconds ago. So he had noticed that I was following him.

"Of course not. I was simply…checking up on you. Because I didn't want you to be late for dinner. You know how your father gets about family meal time," I added, hoping to sound convincing. I mentally patted myself on the back in congratulations for the brilliant story I had come up with at the last second.

Jesse, however, looked down at his watch and, realizing the time, muttered, "Oh, shit!" He ran out of the room, desperately trying to make it to dinner in time, my laughter echoing after him.

I smiled to myself, amazed at my sudden mood change, but pleased nonetheless that Jesse and I were okay with each other again. I materialized at the beach, just in time to catch the sunset, and sat back to enjoy it.

The sky was painted with reds, oranges, fuchsias, and light pinks, blending together to form what I thought was a miracle of nature. The sun dipped below the horizon, and I thought again, for the millionth time, of my father, who had told me that if you looked real close, you could see the steam coming off from the sun crashing into the water when it went down. I know that the theory has been proven wrong since then, but the memory of me as a little girl, sitting on my father's lap as he told me the secrets of the sunset, had always set me at peace with nature, the world, and myself.

The sky turned dark until the sun was no longer visible. I could feel the water wash over my toes, a sign that high tide was coming. The moon was full that night, glowing brilliantly over my head. Because there were no clouds, I could see the stars clearly, though never again would I be able to see them as they had been when I had been alive, shining brighter, their glows unharmed by pollution and the lights that people used.

With an air of settling calmness about me, I materialized in Jesse's room again to say goodnight to him, but also to ask him about the stranger back in the café. I had planned on asking him about the situation before, but the right time had never seemed to come up.

I realized just how late it was when I discovered Jesse was already asleep, and a deep sleep at that. He looked so peaceful; his breathing deep but soft.

I took two steps forward.

Every time he took a breath, his chest rose and fell in harmony to his breathing. His dark hair flopped down over one eye, standing out against smooth, clear skin.

I took another step forward so that I was nearly standing at the side of his bed.

The moonlight shone against his tan skin, silvery shadows playing under his closed eyes. His eyelashes, thick and long, looked dark against his cheeks.

I leaned over him slightly, so my hair cascaded lightly off of my shoulders. I brushed it back evenly and leaned over further yet.

His perfect features entranced me, sending shivers along the base of my spine. It was faultless, save for the thin scar that crossed through his left (A?N: Or is it right?) eyebrow. It was like I was hypnotized, like some sort of magnetic force was pulling me towards him. I leaned forward even farther still until I was so close to him that I could feel his warm breath tickling my cheek.

I wasn't thinking straight. Or at least that's what I told myself later on. I felt like I was in some sort of trance. I was only acting upon my feelings.

I brought my hand to his cheek and lightly caressed the smooth skin. His breathing remained even, and I marveled at how warm his cheek was.

By this point, my lips were only inches from his. They looked so full, so soft and inviting. I stood there for what seemed like an eternity but then finally brought my lips gently down to his.

I kissed him tenderly, delicately so that I would be sure not to wake him. His smooth lips seemed to take away an ache that I had had in my heart for the past 150 years. I felt at peace while I was kissing him like this, but I had a strange desire for more—for him to kiss me back. The kiss wasn't passionate—it was simply tenderness and something that I dared not name.

Love.

I broke away quickly and gasped when I felt him stir beneath me. His eyelids fluttered open and he stared at me, disbelieving. He brought a callused finger to his lips and touched them, unsure of what had just happened. My eyes widened as I took three wary steps back, steps that were much faster than they had been when just a few minutes ago, I had been walking towards his bed instead of away from it.

He just stared at me, finally whispering in an uncertain voice, "Susannah?" Frightened, I backed away even farther until I lightly bumped into a large wooden object. Not answering, I did what I thought was the best possible idea: dematerialized.

Whew, that took awhile to write! A lot happened in that chapter…we even met Paul! (Yes, that was Paul. I hope that you figured that out). Now you'll just have to wait and see how it all goes…

I know Jesse and Suze kissed earlier than in the books, but it just fits together better this way.

By the way…I hate cliffhangers too. Oh well.