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anon – I've given up on SuperStar. Every time I read it I want to tear my eyes out… I have the storyline in my head, but… urgh. Don't make me :(
anon – (Is that still you, or a different anon? Or has every anon been a different person… O_o Anyway…) YOU DON'T KNOW WHO CAPTAIN AMERICA IS?! HAVE YOU BEEN LIVING UNDER A ROCK?! He was like the first superhero! He came about during WW2, and was injected with an experimental drug which made him a better version of a human (stronger, more versatile… oh, and beautiful ;D). Google him. He's played by Chris Evans in the film.
I don't own Night World.
Chapter 16
Both studying Wuthering Heights and seeing Morgead makes English my favourite lesson. People actually are very surprised (rude) when I get all the questions right, and according to Morgead, am very insightful (which I hope I should be after reading the book about three times a year since I was eleven). It's the last week of school before the Christmas holidays, and it worries me that dad still hasn't called or dropped by or anything. Christmas will not exactly be a joyful occasion if dad isn't there; he's the one who gets most excited. Every time I think of not having Christmas with him I feel like I'm about to cry, which is why I throw myself into the school work and band practices that much harder. Everyone notices, and comments on it at some point. For example, Julia commented with, "Who are you and what have you done with Jez?" which she then admitted was not very inventive when I glared at her disparagingly.
Hugh was getting just that little bit more clingy again, which I figured meant he was going to have a big blow-out and throw loads of corny lines in my face such as 'meant to be' and 'lost without you' (or put them in some random depressing song). Obviously I hadn't been using those phrases when thinking about Morgead and me. Obviously.
I did love Hugh, of course I did, but he was one annoying guy when he went all 'romantic'.
Morgead actually made me dinner on Friday, which I figured meant we were a real couple (albeit rather secret. Okay, totally secret).
"I am feeling guilty about this," he says once we've finished and made our way back to the library, hand-in-hand.
"About pretending to give me remedial English lessons, but actually secretly dating me, though it's illegal and if anyone found out you would most likely be fired and I would be sent away to some far-away catholic boarding school?"
He laughs. "And yet when you say it it sounds so ridiculous."
"You want to know what I've learnt with everything going on at the moment?"
"What?"
"That fate isn't what we expect it to be, and something that seems wrong can actually be what is right when you dig deeper. And anyway, the world could implode at any second, so why not stand up for what you want? It's not always wrong to be selfish, I suppose."
"I still feel like I'm doing something wrong."
"Will it help when I leave school? I only have two more terms left."
"Before you go to university. And how would you feel about introducing me to your parents? As your boyfriend?"
I smirk. "Kind of awkward, to say the least. And do you really think that I could go into uni? I'm going to focus on the band. I can't bear to do any more maths, no matter whether I'm a genius or not."
His eyes are amused as he watches me. "I always thought the teachers were joking when they said you were a mathematical genius."
"Sadly, no. I try not to let it affect my life, though. It's not as if it extends into science."
My phone beeps, and Morgead leans forward to kiss me. "Will you be able to come round Sunday? I don't think I'll be able to bear not seeing you for the entire holidays."
I nod, closing my eyes blissfully as he kisses me again. And it's that precise moment that I really understand the poem he'd told me those weeks earlier.
Most people think that red and love is the same thing, right? That it's passionate and fiery and close to anger, but they're wrong. It's calm and pure and completely natural when you've found the right person. It is, in all effects, blue as a calm sea. Anyone who sees red when they're with the person they 'love' is only communicating with them on a physical level, and that will burn out to leave nothing, but I feel like what Morgead and I share is deeper than that, to the soul; refreshing, not consuming.
And the entire world shifts at that point, as if the gods are showing me truth for that single second. But Morgead pulls away and the second is over. "As much as I would happily hold you hostage, you have to go," he says.
I sigh and get up reluctantly. "I'll see you tomorrow," I say as I walk out the door.
...nw...nw...nw...
Sound check is as stressful as always, but it doesn't get to me so much now. Hugh keeps on trying to catch my eyes, but I avoid him (quite successfully too, considering we're in the same band together), until he corners me when people are starting to filter in.
Val winks at me and grins as I glare at him before walking off with his arm around Raven. Pierce is talking to some girls and seems quite preoccupied, and Thistle is currently nowhere to be found so I have the pleasure of talking to him alone.
To be honest, I'm not sure when it became so complicated. I missed the days when I would just spend the day with him and we would just be friends, or even back when I was six and he'd been eight, and we were 'girlfriend and boyfriend', though it never meant anything more than best friends.
"Do you want to do something tomorrow?" he asks.
I grimace. "Can't. I've got plans."
"What are you doing, then?"
"Just helping out with some stuff."
"Sure you can't get out of it?"
"Yes I'm sure. And anyway, I don't want to."
"Oh."
"Will you just give up?" I finally say. "I'm not interested in you, Hugh. You have to stop this before it tears the band apart. This isn't just our friendship in the equation."
"I just can't believe that you feel nothing for me. After all the time we've known each other..."
"I think of you only as a brother! So please get over me."
He ducks his head slightly. "I won't ever completely give up on you."
"Well maybe you're focussing so hard on what you think you should want, that you keep on missing what is actually right for you," I say. "Just about any girl would do anything to date you. But I'm not the type."
I slip backstage then and collapse into one of the beanbags, burying my face in my hands. "Jez!" I hear from the general direction of the door, and I look up in time to see Thistle throw herself onto my lap.
"Hey, Thistle."
"I heard what you said to Hugh."
My arms tighten around her and I sigh. "Do you hate me, then?"
"No. I think you're absolutely right. Oh, and your hottie teacher's here again. He really likes Chaos, doesn't he?" she says nonchalantly, and just the thought of Morgead lifts my spirits.
The gig passes with no hitches, though I do catch Morgead's eyes quite often, which makes it very difficult for me to not throw myself on top of him or something. What? He is really gorgeous.
I make sure that no-one else comes backstage afterwards, threatening to tie up and torture anyone who does, and thankfully they humour me. Morgead sneaks in at some point and comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist. "You were amazing. As always."
"Oh, I know," I reply cheekily, twisting in his arms to kiss him. "And I've realised that quite a lot of people think that."
"How so?" he says. I get slightly distracted as he traces the bare skin exposed at my hip.
"Hugh's been practically begging me to get back together with him."
"The guitarist?" Morgead says lightly, but I can see the tension in his jaw. I touch his cheek with a slight smile. "Not to mention that boy who asked you out a few weeks ago," he added.
"Oh, Matt," I say. "I'd forgotten about him, actually. How did you know?"
"I was intrigued as to why you punched him."
"I will forever treasure that memory," I say wistfully, which makes him laugh. "But anyway, there's no way they're getting between us. I love you too much to throw what we have away."
It's only when he freezes and gazes at me with what looks like revulsion that I realise what I said. I freeze as well and feel my cheeks colour as I stare at him.
"Did you just say you love me?" he finally asks. I try to step back, but he won't let me.
"I was being stupid. Forget it," I say, struggling to get away. "I didn't mean it."
"Well I really hope you did mean it. I love you too, Jezebel." He kisses me then, with such unadulterated happiness that it catches it off-guard and I forget that he dared to use my full name.