(A/N): Here's chapter four! This one has been rewritten quite a few times, and I'm pretty content with the way it came out as last. It may be a while before chapter five up, but thats because I like to have at least two more chapters started bfore posting the next chapter so I can change things around before actually posting it.
Hope ya'll enjoy this update, and I'll get working on my next chappies. Hopefully it won't tale too long.
The day was slowly escaping me, and in every class I would cast nervous glances in Paul's direction. I never kept my gaze locked on him for too long, nervous that he would feel my eyes on him. If he did notice–which he probably had by now–he didn't let on. Intentionally ignoring me is just another one of his games.
Last night, when I returned home, I fell into bed. I shut my eyes tight, and waited for sleep to take me. It never came. Meeting Jesse last night left me in daze–a happy one. Warm sensations coursed my frail body. Something about him was so familiar. His mannerisms, his speech they all seemed familiar. There is no denying the fact that Jesse is very attractive. With clearly defined muscles and otherworldly good looks, no girl could resist his charm.
A guy like Jesse deserved the life he got. And because of me, he got that life. It still amazes me that I somehow managed to tamper with the strings of time and experienced time-travel first hand. It's a shame I can't remember such an occurrence.
I am certain of my mediating abilities and all the quirks that come with; I believe I am quite a strong fighter… but time travel? That I'm not so sure about. Until last night, I was inclined towards the belief it was impossible. Suddenly some guy pops up and says it is when he's not so sure himself? Who would know what to think?
Just like in class, I sat through lunch quietly as more of an observer rather than a participant. All throughout, I cast even more careful glances in Paul's direction. He was amidst his friends at school. Looking at him, sitting there talking and laughing with his friends, you would never guess the secrets he keeps hidden. Who he is at school is most definitely not the guy I met over the summer. At school he transforms himself to be the perfect model student when he is everything but perfect. It is a façade not many can see through. I would be fooled too if I didn't know any better.
It seems like Paul fits in perfectly with his 'school' friends. They achieve academically and athletically; Paul does too. Paul was the big man on campus at his old school; but when he came here, he saw how different things were. We didn't want to be apart of Kelly's group, which have all the reigning power. He relinquished for the next best thing after making it clear he could never be friends with Kelly or Debbie, and most definitely never Brad.
Once Kelly and her mindless crones stopped flocking after Paul upon his arrival–he did make it perfectly clear he wanted nothing to do with them–Paul sought refuge amongst his group now. Kelly the princess wasn't all too pleased because Paul is easily the hottest guy in school, and made it her job to be the bitchy popular girl–not that she wasn't already. His royal highness (Paul) dissed Kelly by not agreeing to date her and now there is hell to pay.
Good, Paul deserves it.
Despite all of this, I really needed to speak to him.
This however, will prove to be difficult. Firstly, I have to approach him, something I am not keen on attempting or desiring. Secondly, I have to initiate conversation. Both of these actions have never been pursued by me during our long standing history. Paul has always been the stalker to my victim, approaching me whenever he needs something.
As if that weren't enough, I will indirectly have to confess my mediating abilities. Again, I am not to keen to admit my longest well-kept secret. And then after divulging him with the truth, I will then have to ask him about his own mediating abilities… or shifting abilities, something I have yet to understand.
After all is said and done, and he doesn't believe I am crazy I will have to ask him to come meet Jesse so said ghost can move on to the afterlife. However, I fear he won't be able to see Jesse. I doubt Paul shares my unique abilities.
Add that to the fact that he will most likely not help me–something he pretty much guaranteed yesterday–I can ashamedly admit I am screwed.
"Simon?" The voice calling my name sounded distorted as if it were miles away rather than right next to me. Averting my gaze from Paul's back, I looked vacantly at violet eyes.
"Suze, snap out of it. Are you okay?"
Two indistinct voices filtered the air around me…
"Simon?" A small white hand clutched around my upper arm, urging me gently. Shaking my head, I snapped out of my thoughts at last. "What's up with you? You've been awfully quiet all day."
"Sorry," I sighed. "I've been thinking is all."
"About… you know who?" Cee asked, quietly, though there was no need. She took a furtive glance in Paul's direction and sighed.
"Yeah. But, he didn't actually do anything to initiate these thoughts for once. It was something else. I don't know why or how, but Paul Slater is always involved with my problems."
"Want me to pound him?" Adam offered, smiling goofily.
"No need for that, Adam. This is something I'm going to have to deal with myself."
"Suze, you sure? Sooner or later, the two of you are just going to have to learn to stay away. I mean, you claim you hate him, but you're always thinking about him one way or another. I don't want you getting hurt again."
"I won't, Cee. Thanks. But I actually have to talk to him. Something has come up, and I think he's the only one–unfortunate as that may be, that can help me." I stood up from our lunch table, smiling assuredly at both Adam and Cee.
Taking my bag with me, I sauntered over to Paul's table slowly. I navigated the whole of the courtyard deliberately, anything to delay the eventual conversation with Paul.
Adam and Cee both trailed their gaze along with me, following my every step. Their eyes nearly burned through my back. Sighing, I turned in Paul's direction. He was eating a sandwich, and laughing with his friends as I approached. His back was to me, and he never saw me coming. James Pullman did, however, and he started mouthing words I could not recognize to Paul. I know James is Paul's closest friend in Carmel. The two of them are always together.
Slowly, Paul's neck turned slowly in my direction. His eyes slit as they landed on my own and I smiled weakly, causing to anger him further. "What the hell you want?" He growled at me.
"We need to talk." I'd like to say I sounded confident as I uttered those words, but that would be a lie because it was more of a squeak than anything else. A mouse would've been proud.
Paul laughed mockingly at me, speaking to no one in particular. "She wants to speak." Turning to me once more, he added, "I wanted to speak yesterday. Did we? No, we didn't. I was left under the impression you never wanted to speak to me again. What was it you called me again right before you left? Oh, that's right. I just remembered. How could I've forgotten? You called me a fucking asshole. Good-bye, Suze. I've got nothing left to say to you."
"Paul, please. Some of those things were harsh. I-we… you were right. We need to speak." I closed my eyes awaiting his response.
Condescendingly, Paul laughed at me again. "If I'm such a fucking asshole, Suze, I doubt you'd care much." I looked at him with pleading eyes, and I saw Paul debating with himself. It was the furtive glances between me and his friends that displayed the inner conflict within himself. I suppose he would have every reason to not want to talk with me. But I hoped for my sake–and Jesse's–that he would agree.
"This better be good," Paul muttered standing abruptly.
"Dude, don't," James interjected but Paul waved him away.
Paul stormed ahead of me and I walked as fast as I could, trying my hardest to keep up with him. I had no idea where he was going. He just continued walking leaving me in his wake.
Coming to a stop in the empty breezeway, Paul looked at me intently. "What the hell do you want, Suze? If you can't make up your mind about me, then please just leave me the hell alone. You do things to me, and every time you raise my hopes, I'm left with this desire to be with you. It's all false hope and I can't live with that. So, you either like me or you don't. No more games, because I am sick of them. Just tell me what you need to say and be on your way."
The look in his eyes stung–piercing into me, but it was shadowed by slight hope. He was trying his hardest to be mad at me, but he was struggling to do so. I doubt Paul could ever stay mad at me for long, or hate me for that matter. He did care about me and I cared about him no matter how much we pissed each other off, how much we argued, or how we always had to agree to disagree.
"Paul, I–" Trailing off, I realized I didn't know what I wanted to say. I never actually thought to go over what I might say. 'I can see ghosts, can you?' just somehow isn't going to cut it. I assumed Paul would wave me away and heed no attention to me. I never thought we'd get past the point where I asked him to come with me and actually discuss my little dilemma may or may not have anything to do with Paul.
So how did I tell him that instead of sharing my feelings for him–however complicated those were–I was seeking a favor? A cruel thing to do, considering the fact he thought I was at last putting closure to our quasi-relationship. I'm a cold relentless bitch to ask for favors when I am not at the top of his favorite peoples list.
My feelings for him are a whole other complicated mess separate from the issue at hand.
"There's something I-I… don't know… This might sound a bit crazy, what I need to tell you."
Paul chuckled madly at me. "I knew you wouldn't be brave enough to confront me about your feelings, Suze. You may thing you're strong, but you're just a coward inside."
Anger flared inside me, and I slapped him. It was completely involuntary, a reflex reaction. Paul didn't move or flinch, and instead narrowed his eyes further.
"You asshole. Don't call me weak. You don't know the half of it, Paul. Yes, I'm not confronting you about my feelings, but that doesn't mean I won't. I have one question for you, that's all. There's something I need to know. If not, just forget it and I'll figure this out with or without your help. You might think I'm crazy afterwards, but I really don't give a rat's ass what you think anymore. I'm through with letting you dominate my feelings."
Paul shrugged in response, leaning against a locker door. Crossing his arms across his chest, Paul looked at me expectantly. "I highly doubt that last bit, but I'll let you ask me whatever." He smiled cruelly at me, "Come on, Suze. I'm waiting. Just ask."
Swallowing the lump in my throat I looked up at him. "Can you tell me all you know about… shifting?" He doesn't think I'm a total head-case, does he?
The way his body suddenly tensed up, went rigid, was all the answer I needed. His face was contorted in scrutiny. His eyes studied my face carefully, and hours, years, decades, millennia even could have passed in that one fleeting moment between Paul and me. He knew something about shifting, and I sure as hell know it deals with ghosts–at least Jesse's uncertain explanation made it seem so.
Finally, his lips shaped into an unfamiliar smile and Paul took measured steps towards me. "I knew it," he breathed, muttering to himself. Paul's hand came to my face, his thumb stroking my cheek as he pulled my face close to his. "Suze… you and I, we're meant to do great things. We're so much alike." He bit nervously at his bottom lip, an action I had never seen the cool, collected Paul Slater perform. "Shifting is a rare, special ability, Suze. One that we've been endowed with. It's about time you realized, it too. I wasn't certain though that you were a shifter, though."
A second too long, I allowed myself to enjoy the feeling of his hand caressing my face and Paul sought it as permission for him to kiss me. I didn't fight back, even though every part of me was telling me too. His touch had left me in a stupor, unwilling to fight back something that felt so good physically–like reliving a long forgotten memory. One touch from Paul was all it took to make the butterflies in my stomach flutter, and my heart pulse rapidly. I loved Paul's gentle touch on me...
He lowered his head towards mine. I closed my eyes. His lips met mine, and slowly my own parted. He began kissing me, his lips moving slowly over mine, almost becoming accustomed to kissing me all over again. I kissed back soon without a second thought. His lips on mine felt so right. His mouth covered mine and he stood closely to me. My arms wound up around his neck, my fingers entwining with the tufts of curly hair.
It was as his tongue threatened to enter my mouth that I realized what was happening. Wondrously, I'd ended up against the pillar supporting the breezeway, entrapped between it and Paul. I turned my face from Paul and my head fell into the nape of his neck. Paul continued kissing me; this time on my neck. Fighting myself, I pushed him away slightly. Shivering delightfully, I tried my best to conceal the pleasure. "Don't, Paul. We broke up. Don't kiss me anymore," with every word, my voice rose slightly. "Don't kiss me anymore, Paul." I added with more strength.
"You know you want me to, Suze."
I took no note of his comment. "Just tell me what you know about shifting." Paul's arms were on either side of me, allowing me no exit. His body was pressed firmly against mine.
Paul blatantly ignored the question and instead decided to chastise my feelings. "You're doing it again, Suze. Why can't you just accept what we've got?"
"Because, after everything that happened, I don't want to get hurt again." I said through clenched teeth, mentally counting to ten. "Please, just tell me about shifting."
"Why should I? I have information you need. Why should I disclose it without anything in return?" Paul smiled cruelly at me, his face mere inches away from mine.
"Because it'll help me with something I wish not to discuss at the moment. Once you've explained a little about shifting, I'll tell you."
"No can do, Susie Q." Paul laughed to himself. "That rhymed a tad, don't you think?"
Rolling my eyes, I asked, "Can you just tell me already and get away from me?"
"I can. But not now. Besides, I love the feel of your body against mine." He lowered his head and swept his lips against my forehead. I closed my eyes, trying to break free of the spell he had over me. "Meet me after school, and I'll tell you all you need to know," he whispered lustrously. "Think of them as shifting lessons, perhaps." Paul smiled knowingly at me and dropped his arms. Without a glance back, Paul walked away and down the hallway, confident that I would go to his 'shifting lessons,' whatever the hell those were.
But how could he be so sure I'd actually go?
I wondered the same thing myself, but then I realized how much I truly wanted to know about shifting. So I decided, then and there that despite what I feared might happen I wanted to know more than anything about shifting.
Much to my chagrin, Pail knew me almost as well as I knew myself. He knew I'd go.
(A/N): Review please!