Immortal // c.h

I guess I've always been one to fall in love too quickly, forgetting the world as it passes me by and only focusing on that one person, allowing myself to be completely blinded by them, oblivious. I guess that's my one flaw; I always try to see the good in people, and that's not always a good thing.

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3. Chapter 2.

November 6, 2012

School. I fucking hate school. I repeat the actions in my last class, just like yesterday, as I wait for the bell to ring for dismissal. I grab my things in my arms, since we aren't allowed to have backpacks, and put them in my locker before making my way across the street, just like every other day. Except today, my eyes were wandering every inch of the parking lot, in hopes to see Calum. As I reach the car, I give up on searching for him, sitting down and pulling my safety belt across my waist and chest before buckling it. I click the home button on my phone and enter my lock code, unlocking my phone, before opening Kik to message my best friend, Andy. That boy, I swear, will be the death of me. He has a girlfriend that he seems to really like, and I'm actually really happy for him. I would be happier if she didn't make me so damn jealous, but oh well. He doesn't like me anyways, not like that. I've already asked him. I lock my phone back and stick it inbetween my legs.

The 15 minute drive home seems excruciatingly long today, as I stare out the window at all the trees that we pass by. That's the thing about this town. It's so small and everyone knows everyone, yet, it's so peaceful and serene, almost tranquil, if it weren't for the drugs that were sold in the streets and schools, and all the pregnant teenagers. Honestly, I hated this town more than I hated myself, and I really hate myself. My eyes glance over to my mum for a brief second before I slide my sleeve up my left arm, staring in awe at the scars there. I trace them with my thumb, each one still feeling puffy, only a few days old. They're still red too, the jagged lines in the center of the puffy ones, where I had taken my razor to. I'm washed in nostalgia as I stare blankly at the scars, a slight malicious smile creeping onto my face. I remember the burning sensation that took over my wrist as the razor left its mark, encouraging me to continue. I remember the happiness that I felt as the pain disappeared, more and more with each glide. God. Honestly, the feeling is exquisite if you're one of those people who enjoys physical pain more than mental, and who has a lot of pain that you want to get rid of. Maybe that's why I enjoy it so much. It feels exquisite.

I open the door to my house, immediately rushing down the hall and into my bedroom. You see, my family didn't have some extravagant house that was two or three stories high with ballroom staircases and black and white decor. We didn't have much actually, but I was content with what we do have. I am content. I throw myself onto my bed and reply to Andy, saying that I had just got home and completely forgot about him until now. As I am about to lock my phone, my messenger app lights up, making me aware of the fact that I have a new message from someone. Maybe it's Calum? I smile at the though. No, no. Definitely not him, he's too bad ass. I click the app and open the message.

Calum Hood:

Hi, thanks. It was nice seeing you today too. Just a question, and don't laugh if I'm wrong, but are you Henry's sister?

God. Why does everyone ask that? Oh, maybe it's because our names are really close to each other's, I inwardly sneer myself. God, my parents could've named me something different. Something like Jessy, or Amber, or Indiana. Ew.. no. Not Jessy. God no. For some reason, I have always hated that name, and the only reason that I tolerate it as much as I do is because Jesse happens to be the name of my favorite cousin. Amber? I don't like it. It makes me sound like some stuck-up bitch who thinks she can get whatever she wants and won't take no for an answer. Most Amber's are like that. But Indiana? I like it. Most people don't have that name these days, yet it's actually quite common. And it's different, and boy do I love different. Shit. I forgot to message Calum back.

Ana Winchester:

lol no, and don't worry, I won't laugh at you (or will I(; ), but no, I am not his sister. I'm his cousin. XD

I was going to lock my phone and close my eyes for a few minutes, but I couldn't possibly even try with how fast Calum is replying. God. Does that boy even stop to breathe?

Calum:

That makes more sense. What are you doing tonight?

I laugh before replying.

Ana:

Nothing really. Was gonna sit at home and maybe watch some movies. Why?

Calum:

Was curious, s'all. Thought maybe we could hang out or something. Dinner, maybe.

Wait.. is he flirting with me? Guys never do that, especially not the ones from this town. There's usually only something in it for them. I decide to tease him a bit.

Ana:

Oh, I don't know. You'll have to pass my parents' little inspection before you could even hang out with me.

The words are only meant as teases, though truth lies behind every word.

Calum:

So then, dinner tonight? Your house? I could meet your parents.

Wait, what? Is he serious? Last guy I dated didn't do parents. He never wanted to meet them. The only reason he met mine was because he just happened to be hanging out with me at my grandparents house during football season, and my parents came over. Of course they did. My mother damn well wouldn't pass up a football game, and my father loved to hear the damn commentary. Why? I don't know, he's fucking weird. I'm with my mom though, I love football. I could sit and root for my own team all week, and talk shit about the others all year. (A/N: I am talking about American football. The story takes place in America, in South Carolina.) God. Look at me. I'm so caught up in talking about football that, once again, I had forgot to message Calum back.

Ana:

Hey, sorry, I was busy. I don't know, I'll have to ask them.

Calum:

What's your number?

He asks me, and I text him back with my number. Seconds later, he replies with his number and before I get the chance to even close down the app so that I can put in his number, he is calling me. I smile before answering the phone.

"Hi," I beam.

"Hi," he laughs. "So um, are you gonna ask your parents?"

"You haven't even given me the chance," I laugh, walking down the hall to the laundry room. I put my phone atop my shoulder, holding it down with my head. I reach down and grab some clothes, throwing them into the washing machine.

"Okay, so um, this is gonna be a weird question, but I have to know: you don't do drugs do you? Or smoke weed or anything like that?"

I freeze. Of course not. I've wanted to try weed but I don't actually have the courage to do that. And I would never do drugs. I don't wanna completely lose my mind and end up putting a bullet through my brain. Not yet, at least. "No," I stutter. "I mean, I've thought about it but never actually did it." My voice sounds like a disaster. Why is he asking this?

"Okay good. Sorry, I used to be into everything, all of it. I've actually been clean for a little over a month now, and I really don't want to fall into a relapse, and honestly, I don't want to be around someone who does that. Not anymore."

I immediately feel my body relax. So I was right? Three years ago I told myself not to get caught up with this boy because he will be nothing but alcohol, drugs, and sex, yet me being the stupid and selfish bitch I am, I can't stay away from him. I fucking love bad boys. "It's okay, I  understand. Um, did you want me to ask my mom now about tonight? She's just sitting in the other room, staring at me."

"Yes, of course! Actually, I'll ask her. If that's alright with you?"

"Better you than me," I answer truthfully. "Hold on," I tell him before covering the mic with my hand and talking to my mom. "Hey, Mama, somebody wants to talk to you."

"Who is it?"

A malicious grin sneaks onto my face. Why is everything I do so malicious when it comes to this boy? "Someone."

My mom gives me a weird look but takes the phone anyways. When she hears him speak, she gives me a smirk that says 'you could've told me that it was a boy, but then again, I guess you didn't want to say that in front of your father'. She is so damn vindictive that I can already see what's coming.

Time passes and I find myself wanting to talk to Calum again, but my mother is still talking to him. I hear her say goodbye and she hands me back my phone. Oh great. They've hung up. "He's coming over tomorrow night for dinner."

"Oh."

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