Looking for trouble | Vol. 2 | Jamie Bower fanfiction

15 | The sexy voice

Skye

I had told Jamie I will give him another chance, and I will! Honest! But as soon I hit the comforter of my own bed, I realise how damn hard that is going to be. He has done nothing to deserve it. Absolutely nothing. Well - that is if you didn't count turning my head to mush and invading my dreams - then he had done nothing other than kissing me and promising me a pile of freaking gold - metaphorically speak of course, no one got a pile of gold. It isn't fair that he can do that to me, reduce me to a puddle of teenage hormones in a matter of freaking fucking milliseconds. Actually, it sort of pisses me off. He said he loves me. Love... what the freaking fantastic fuck is that? Does it really exist in other places than books? Who freaking knows? We're too busy looking for our next conquest to notice even it hits us smack in the face. For all I know, Jamie totally can be in mushy gushy love with me, but then again he can also totally be kidding both himself and me.

He kissed another woman, and I knew that realisation isn't going to pass anytime soon. In the car with is sent and personality all over me I hadn't been able to think rationally. Not even the least. I had been too busy secretly gawking at his muscular arms and perfectly messy golden hair, to care much about anything. Because of one simple fact: I desire him. What? I did! And it gave me the biggest disadvantage on the planet. Because even though my heart is still aching from what he did. My cheeks are always red, my pupils forever pitch black and panties slightly dampened after being near him. This is of course an exaggeration, but you get my point. I have absolutely no idea how Jamie and I can ever be together again, after what he did. Other than maybe, with time. Until I stop hurting and maybe even move on, then maybe. But that involves getting to know someone else and I seriously don't feel up for that.

God... How could I have told him I could give him another chance? How could I have been so unbelievable stupid! I sigh heavily into my pillows, feeling the urge to scream, but no doing much about it, seeing as I - despite my unexpected lusty nap in the car - am exhausted. So I just lay there, my head pressed into my pillows, still fully clothed, before long sleep overcame me once again. And can you guess what , or should I say who I dreamt about?! That Bloody bastard...

***

'Lust is not the same as love, lust is not the same as love, lust is not the same as love,' I recite the mantra in my head as I brush my teeth the next morning, looking at my tired reflection in the mirror. It has been a while since I have really looked at myself. I had been too caught up with training and moving to LA to really care about my appearance. I look like the same Skye as always. Curly cobber-red morning hair. Square face, annoyingly full lips, they remained too big for my face as always. Somewhat high cheekbones, I could thank my father for all that. Or that's what my mother said. I believe her, since my mom had always dyed her hair blond - her natural hair colour being a mousy brown one - and naturally scolding blue eyes, seated over big chubby cheeks two great for her still small face. I look nothing like that, so I gathered I must look like my unknown father. I am happy about that. It gives me no ties to my mother what so ever, other than the blood running under my skin. O negative, same as my mother. I had found out when I was 11 and had fallen on my bike. I had crashed while hurling downhill at full speed. I hurt myself very badly, opening more wounds in my small body, than should be possible at my ages. I had even hurt my head and broken my arm in two places - just under the elbow and right at the wrist. It wouldn't have been that bad, if someone just had been around to help me. I of course had passed out, seeing as I was an idiot and hadn't worn a helmet. So two hours later someone had finally found me - somehow still alive - but there had been blood all over me, so much that I had needed a blood transfusion. Ever since then my blood type had just stuck in my head.