I'm sorry this chapter is so short. And to be honest, I'm not all impressed by it. Unfortunately, the next few chapters are going to be fillers, but please stick with me. I promise there will be big events. Thanks to all of my wonderful readers who have followed/favorite my story. Keep the reviews coming!
Oh, and I guess I should add a disclaimer: I do not own Tuck Everlasting. I only own Emily and the other OCs.
Promptly two weeks after starting Foster High, Jesse Tuck was officially on my shit list.
After the night in which he and his friends nearly killed me, there had been undeniable tension between us, placing an irrevocable wedge in whatever relationship had been kindling. At school the next day, I had attempted to approach Jesse to make peace between the two of us. However, he seemed to be dodging my presence, as he skipped all classes we had together. My first thought was that he was avoiding me in order to preserve his ego. After all, I had messed him up pretty bad, but after three classes where he was a no-show, I was too pissed to even consider his dignity. Later, after I had devoured my turkey sandwich at lunch, I interrogated Stephanie, Maria, and Fan about Jesse's next class. With hesitant glances exchanged between the trio, they finally hedged the information.
Coach Feldman seemed to react indifferently as I stormed into the newly renovated gymnasium, where students were pulling out weathered volley balls for a couple matches. Trying my hardest to maintain a facade of calm composure, there was still an undercurrent of seething anger in my tone as I inquired, "Excuse me, Coach Feldman, could you please tell me the whereabouts of one of your students: Jesse Tuck?"
Without blinking, Coach Feldman made no response as he jerked his thumb to the metal bleachers in the corner of the gymnasium, before turning his back on me and retreating to his office.
Under my breath, I muttered sarcastically, "Gee, thanks for your help." I quickly ducked as a volley ball nearly took my head off. Apologizes were thrown my way; I quickly raced off the court in hopes of avoiding a young death.
Briefly, darkness obscured my vision as I walked into the narrow space under the bleachers. Although the shafts of light streaming in through the bleacher's cracks were insufficient for my vision, I was still clearly able to spot the back of the tall, thin figure of Jesse Tuck. And, more importantly, my nose still burned as I inhaled a whiff of bitter cigarette smoke.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you smoking kills?" I asked, maintaining my voice at a calm and collected tone. This approach needed to be civilized.
"You didn't seem very concerned about my health the other night," Jesse retorted, throwing his cigarette on the floor and grinding it under the heel of his boot, leaving a smudge of ash prominent against the polished gymnasium floors.
Heat flooded to my cheeks as I stuttered, the words as intelligible as marbles in my mouth, "I'm sorry."
Still refusing to face me, he grumbled resentfully, "Yeah, well, I don't accept."
Like a pot of boiling water, I felt my anger inflate within me. "What's your problem?" I snapped, trying my hardest not to cry. Jesse Tuck didn't deserve my tears. "You were the one who nearly killed me, remember?"
Jesse's voice darkened, becoming as icy as the frigid Arctic Ocean. "What's so bad about death?"
At his words, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and it seemed as if all the blood from my face had drained. My throat dry, I nervously croaked, "What do you mean?"
"You take 'the end' for granted, all people do. It's human instinct to fear the unknown." Jesse chuckled, his voice harsh as it echoed in my ears. "In reality, what you really should be afraid of is getting stuck. Not being able to move on. Destined for an eternity of repetition."
Shivers traveled up my spine at his words. Sympathy erased the anger I had been kindling inside. Despite his bad choices, Jesse seemed much wiser and wearier of the world than any seven-teen-year old who hurtles fireworks at civilians would be. Behind his bold, stubborn façade he displayed, by doing irresponsible actions, I could sense a deeper, powerful emotion. In a way, Jesse reminded me of a kaleidoscope, his moods constantly shifting, a jumble of different thoughts and feelings. Unfortunately, I'm terrible at deciphering such emotions, but it didn't take a mind reader to comprehend Jesse was hurting inside.
Awkwardly, I grasped his shoulder, my cheeks burning as I whispered, "Jesse..."
Like the tide drawing back out to sea, I felt the tension dissipate from him. No longer was his breath ragged and shallow, but now it was even and calm, as if my presence was actually comforting to him. After several moments of hesitation, he finally turned to face me. Mesmerized by his blue eyes, I persisted, "What's hurting you?"
"Too many things," he answered, twining my hand with his. Although his touch was making me more squeamish than I wanted to admit, I made a daring move by gazing up at his face, determined to not reveal how nervous he was making me. However, as I looked up into the face that I had battered the night before, I saw what I did not expect. Instead of being as black as ink and swollen, Jesse's eye was completely unscathed. By some uncanny force, Jesse had healed in less than a twenty four hour period.
Unable to contain myself, I released a gasp, reaching to prod his flawless flesh. "How is that possible?"
Jesse quickly intercepted my hand, roughly yanking it away. "I have to go," he muttered, ducking his head and adverting his gaze. Without casting me a second look, he raced out onto the court and practically ran out the gym doors.
Leaving me alone again.