So, I haven't been on here in FOREVER! But I have good reason...reasons actually.
First, I got grounded for a month, then I had writers block - no inspiration whatsoever.
Then...I had inspiration...and I got grounded...again.
But I'm here with my new inspiration,
hope you like it :)
P.S. There isn't going to be a sequel to Thinking of You
P.S.S. Reviews are required :) kthnxbyee
Dear Journal,
They - as in my parents and all-knowing therapist - think I should start writing in this stupid book. You know, to sort out my feelings and thoughts, get myself straight. Of course, that's a bunch of bull. I don't want to write about my feelings and all the rest of the stuff they want me to vent. But I don't need to; I'm at peace with myself. Even after…what happened.
I feel stupid, just sitting at my desk, writing in this thing. I sound whiny, a thing I hate most about people. But, yet again, I'm doing it. I honestly don't know what to write. Maybe I should write about the first time we met, or more accurately, the second time we met.
When I think about it, I remember absolutely everything about the day we met, for the second time. The first time was kind of blurry, because I was seven and my grandmother was sick in the hospital, but we'll get back to that later. The second time, however, it's clear as daylight. Here goes nothing…
May 9th, 2010, a bright sunny day without a cloud in sight to mar the stunning blue sky of Canada. A day worthy of shorts, tank tops, and flip-flops. And people were wearing just that, while kids jumped rope and played hop-scotch, a cheery day one would think. Yet, my parents were fighting - but that wasn't really that unusual nowadays. I had locked myself in my room, blaring music to drown out the yelling and hollering that seemed to carry its way into my room.
I stuffed my face in an algebra book, reading the same line over and over. 'The root of x^2-5x+2 = x/2'. It was aggravating, hearing the incessant screams from downstairs. After reading that line for the zillionth time, I gave up and slammed the book closed.
Since it was so nice out, I figured a walk was in order, to clear my head and stop the headache from forming. I slipped on a pair of squeaky lime green flip-flops, and then reached for a sweatshirt since it was getting late. As I went for the door, I stopped myself and grabbed my copy of Wuthering Heights, something to read if I decided to stop.
Quickly, I opened the door and hurried down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the door. Not that it mattered; my parents wouldn't notice my absence anyway.
A sense of relief washed over me, once the sun happily beat down on my face and a cool breeze washed across my bare legs. Spring always had a way of making me happier, but everyone says that.
After basking in the heat of the sun, I skipped down the steps of my house and onto the concrete sidewalk. I smiled, seemingly rejuvenated by just having the bright blue sky shine above me.
The Goodwin Twins from next door, both eight and cute as buttons skipped over to me, wearing big smiles on their naturally lightly-tanned skin. Though twins, their hair and eye color were completely off. Kara had bright blond hair, seemingly white after being bleached by the sun that ran straight, with a pair of dazzling green eyes. Her sister, Clara, however, had black hair that hung in ringlets with blue eyes that almost outshined my similar blue orbs.
"Clare! Clare!" They cried in unison, causing my smile to widen into a grin. "Come play! Please!"
"Play what?" I asked, smiling down at them.
Even though I was nine years older than them, I agreed when they told me to play hop-scotch. They giggled happily and tugged on each hand and dragged me to the boxes they drew from Crayola chalk.
We played for God-knows how long, and I was starting to get tired, at least my legs were. After hop-scotch, we jumped roped until Mrs. Goodwin came out with a tray of three empty glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.
Mrs. Goodwin looked much younger than she was, especially for being a stay-at-home mom. Her hair was black like Clara's, but her eyes were green like Kara's. She was at least three inches taller than me, and always wore dresses with an apron. Mrs. Goodwin almost reminded me of those seventies moms.
"Clare, you're such a sweetheart. These girls adore you." Mrs. Goodwin gave me a gleaming smile and set the tray down on one of the steps. She poured a glass for each of us and I thanked her when I received mine.
"You know, I could really use a babysitter this weekend. We have family moving here, and Saturday the adults are going out as a reunion. Would you like to watch them? Fifteen dollars an hour, come around sixish?" She asked politely.
"Of course, I'd love to." I answered and sipped my glass of lemonade.
"Great! The family will be meeting up right about then; it'd be lovely to introduce you to them. They would probably love you just as Kara and Clara do." Mrs. Goodwin flashed me another stunning toothy smile.
"Sounds alright," I said and finished the glass. "Well, I better get going."
"Bye, Clare!" Yelled the twins, who hugged my sides furiously.
I handed the glass back to their mother and went down the street again, I really wanted to walk to the park, maybe sit on the hill to read for a bit. Anything was better than home. The sun had barely gone past the highest point in the sky, so I figured I had another hour or so.
When I got there, I ventured through the winding paths and eventually found my spot. My spot was literally my spot, as far as I knew, no one has found it yet. I happened to be walking on the trails and fell through the bushes and onto another hidden path - I blame it on bad coordination skills. Well, the interesting thing is I decided to follow the path, and eventually I ended up on this gorgeous hill that over looked Toronto.
And that is where we met. It was strange, seeing someone here. It was always just me. But, oh my, was this boy handsome. His hair was shaggy and deep brown - almost a shade away from black. His skin was tan, not so much it was overbearing, but natural. The oddity that both threw off but added to his gorgeous appearance was the dark, gothic attire he wore. Black skinny jeans, black blazer with rolled up sleeves and an enormous amount of jewelry for a boy to wear.
"Hey," he said and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I was stunned that he knew I was there, but later I realized he probably heard me coming from a mile away.
"A reply would be nice." He stated, and internally, I knew there was a smirk plastered on his face.
"O-oh. Sorry. Um, hi." I said timidly, mentally slapping myself for sounding so stupid.
"The name's Eli." He said and tilted his head back to look at me; his arms were supporting him as a pair of stunning emerald eyes glared right into my own.
"Clare…" I mumbled, almost in a trance.
"Nice to meet you." Eli said, I felt heat rush up my neck and to my cheeks. "Are you just going to stand there? I promise I don't bite. Much."
A shiver tingled its way down my spine, I had to bite my lips from making any noise. I nodded weakly and stumbled my way until I reached the spot next to him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked before tentatively taking a seat beside him.
"I should ask you the same thing." He smirked at me, my heart melted.
"This is my spot," I said automatically, then pressed my lips in a line, stupid stupid stupid.
"You own it?"
"Well…no…"
"Then it's not your spot."
"Bu-"
"No buts, until you give me legal proof that this is your property, then it's not your spot." He chuckled, staring at my annoyed expression.
"I…you…ugh! I just…call it my spot because as far as I know, no one else knows about this place." I said, my voice drifting off when my gaze traveled to the city.
"I do." Was his blunt statement.
"Well, you're the first person I've ever seen up here." I mumbled, watching as the city lights started to appear, as if my magic. "Isn't it gorgeous?"
"Yeah, you…it is." Eli coughed, quickly turning his gaze to the ever glowing city.
"Not just out there, you should see this place at night. All the fireflies…it's beautiful." I sighed dreamily, leaning back to lie on the grass.
I closed my eyes, breathing in the thick scent of the nearby forest. Another sigh escaped me, the heat blowing back in my face. Surprised, I snapped my eyes open, only to find those bright green eyes staring at me. Rather close, too.
We stayed silent; the only noise was the forest and his breathing. My breath was caught in my throat, trying to suppress the urge to either push him away…or kiss him.
"You have pretty eyes."
And that's how I met him - that was the day everything changed. For good, and for worse. He was the best thing to happen to me that summer; I wouldn't change one thing about it. Well, one thing, one very important thing. What's done is done, there's no going back, Blue Eyes. That's what he used to tell me.