A/N: Last chapter. I once again apologize for how long this took to come about, and thank everyone who saw me through it, as well as those that gave the push I needed to continue. I was planning on posting a preview to my next Jalex story at the end of this one, but since I have so many other tales demanding my attention in high pitched whiny voices it'll be a bit before I can get that one out.
For fans of JONAS, Vampire Diaries, Sonny With a Chance, and Glee expect a story in each of those categories to be posted. (All Vampire Diaries and Glee fics will be posted on my other account, check my profile for the link.)
There's a couple of paragraphs from Flowers in the Attic near the end in italics in case you were wondering what that was.
Three days left until the deadline on her extra credit assignment is due, although she knows she's got a good five before the teacher actually expects her to turn in the paper; threats of failure and summer school are idle, done more for show and in a vain attempt to scare the young wizard into submission.
"You finished? Before the report's due?" There's a false surprise in her brother's voice meant to irk her into a comeback. Instead she shoots him a smug smile, tossing the book beside her on the couch and propping boot clad feet on the coffee table.
"Yep." She pops her lips on the "p," watching the half smile and teasing glint enter his eyes as she notes the lack of under eyes circles; he's broken the spell on his alarm.
"Did you enjoy the book?" He tone is too casual, happy even, like he's setting her up for some witty remark waiting on the tip of his tongue. "Finished it pretty fast. For you." He leans back, relaxing against the bright cushion, arms casually thrown across the back of the chair, but he won't look at her.
She chooses her words carefully, a rarity for her, "It was.. interesting." Her voice is as light as his, ignoring the sudden pounding in her chest; there's a tension in the air, like the world is taking a breath, waiting to see who makes the first step off the path and sends everything plundering down. To what, she doesn't know.
They turn to look at each other, smiles still in place, and she finds she's waiting with the world. He breaks first, a teasing sing-song "you liked it" betraying his still immature streak and releasing the world back into fluid movement. She sticks her tongue out at him, snatching up one green patterned pillow and smacking him across the face. Dinner time cuts off what would have been a truly epic pillow fight she's sure, but she can't stop smiling all through the meal. It's ok, he can't either.
The green and purple folder containing the finished report sits before her in a mocking reminder that she finished early. It had taken almost an hour of trying to find a way to whittle it down, but there's not a single word she can bring herself to cut from the nearly four page report, a far cry from her just shy of two pages goal. She's torn between feeling proud of her accomplishment and embarrassment over the fact that she's talken her first step to becoming an over achiever. If she starts meeting (or in this case surpassing) people's expectations they'll just make more of them, and the stubborn slacker can't just stand idle and let that happen.
It takes the straight D student nearly all night and most of the gym class (claims of cramps can get you out of anything physical) to write a second, sure to get her at most a C, paper and measly one and three-fourths page report. There's a strange twist in her stomach when she shoves that one in the folder, carefully removing her original hard work and placing it to the side. She enjoyed the book, and the thought that she threw together some half-assed piece doesn't sit well with her.
Jerry's on Alex Duty for the writing of her report; it's amazing how easy it is to trick her father into thinking she's working on it. Dark eyes glance up every few minutes thinking of the two essayss tucked safely away in her backpack before going back to UGHH's latest music video. ("The music helps me type faster, Daddy.") She can see now why Theresa wouldn't let her husband watch the wizard during her scheduled reading time.
She lies and says Justin proof read her essay and is slightly disturbed to find he's not there to contradict her; she hasn't seen him since the night she finished Flowers in the Attic. There's surprise on Mr. Thompson's face when she hand's him the folder; it's the end of the school day so technically it still late. She's reasoned that handing him the poor essay early is better than handing in the one she's actually proud (ugg) of in late. She's becoming more anxious the longer it sits in her backpack and she doesn't like the feeling, it's not one she's used to.
Her stomach's doing nervous flips, much like when she asked Dean if he liked her, as she makes her way towards Justin's bed room. He has Alien Language League after school, but she pushes the door open carefully anyways, dark eyes darting around to check that everything still as she remembered it. She walks briskly to his desk, firmly placing the plain yellow folder on the smooth and too organized surface before walking back. She's not sure why the very thought of him reading her original essay causes her stomach to flip and her heart to pound; it's not like there's "Alex Russo has romantic feelings for Justin Russo" hidden within the text. But she wants him to read it and see the hard work and effort she poured into those four pages. She wants him to be proud of her.
Pinned inside our clothes were two small bags holding bills stolen from Momma's room, divided equally just in case something unforeseen separated Chris from me-then neither of us would be left penniless. And Carrie was sure to be with one of us, and taken care of. In the two suitcases were the heavy coins, also put into two bags, to weigh them evenly.
Both Chris and I were very much aware of what lay waiting for us on the outside. We hadn't looked at so much TV without learning the worldly and heartless lie in wait for the naive and innocent. We were young and vulnerable, weak, half-sick, but no longer naive, or innocent.
"Knew you liked it." Brown hair twirls as the teen jerks her head around to glare at her older brother, quickly tucking the book under counter. The teasing retort dies on her tongue as a flash of yellow catches her eye, zooming in on the folder clutched in large hands. "I-uh-" the folder moves up, gray eyes darting away for a second before coming back to rest on the girl sitting at the counter. "It's good." He doesn't point out that it's not the one she turned in, Mr. Thompson had been quick to return the essay to her. (It's on the fridge, her first C+ in a long time. Everyone knows he went easy on her, but no one mentions it.) "I like how you pointed out that they can get through anything, because-" he pauses to clear his throat, once again dropping his eyes and surprisingly Alex find's she doesn't have a witty comeback ready for whatever Big Brotherly thing he's about to say, "it's 'her and him' and they belong to each other more because they're not normal."
Gray eyes look up, meeting her own darker orbs once more and she realizes he gets it. She hadn't knowns she wanted him to, or that she even put it in there for him to see, but there's a wave relief that he does, and that he's here, telling her he likes what she's written.
She imagines Chris claiming rape and Cathy taking blame as she stands up, sees Chris clinging onto the vain hope that they're mother was true and right and good like all mothers are supposed to be while Cathy poked and prodded him into breaking those carefully placed rules as she makes her way forward. But all she can see is Justin as she goes up on her toes, one hand resting on his shoulder as she presses her lips against his.
Several reactions flash through her mind; a quick jerk away followed by a hasty retreat, a frozen body under her hands and stunned look as she pulls away, a sputtering of words as the kiss breaks and burning cheeks with darting eyes. So when her brother pauses for a few seconds before her hips are gripped by strong hands and her body jerked forward, a(n embarrassingly) girly squeak escapes the back of her throat, both hands clinching into his collar as the kiss turns more intense. Low hungry noises are issuing from Justin and she can hear him breathing hard through his nose, echoing her own labored breath.
The counter presses into her hip as she backs up, bringing their bodies impossibly closer. She pulls away slightly, chuckling softly at the small noise of protest her brother makes as the loss of contact. Her hands are still tangled the collar of his button up and she can feel his fingers flexing over the torn denim of her jeans. His breath ghosts her lips, his eyelids half lowered over steel coulored irises, she licks her lips, tasting the lingering flavor.
He whispers her name, low and slightly desperate and she's knows that he's Justin: rule follower, smart, resident freak-out-over-little-things in their family. But as his hold on her hips tightens as he hoists her onto the island's counter, hips falling into the v of her legs as his lips find her's once more, she's reminded of one more thing he is; teenage boy.
A/N: Do I need to add a Epilogue? I feel like it needs it. What do you guys think? Reviews are much appreicated. :)