BLANK SPACE ; jess mariano

ɪᴠ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ

JESS continued to speak.
"I'm not really familiar with the blue book laws in this town, so you can be talking about a lot of things. Dropping a gum wrapper, strolling arm in arm with a member of the opposite sеx on a Sunday." Jess watched as Sage signalled to the chalk outline, "Ah. What about it?"
"You did it. The whole town knows you did it. They had a meeting about it." Sage carried on referring to Jess' prank.
"You really went to one of those bizarro town meetings? Those things are so 'To Kill A Mockingbird'." Sage halted abruptly before talking.
"Yes, I went. And Luke went. And when he got there, everyone ganged up on him. They all want you gone."
"Wow, bummer."
"Show a bit of sympathy Jess!" Sage said, flustered.
"Look. I couldn't care less if I left this town. I never wanted to come here! It's my sick in the head mother who decided to send me over!" Jess exclaimed, his cheeks turning crimson as he proceeded to speak.
"Whatever, I'm tired of talking to you."
"Fine."
Jess and Sage parted, walking in the directions of their homes.
"So did you at least think it was funny?" Sage spun on her heel to face Jess. She tried to hide her smirk, but apparently it went unnoticed.
"That is so not the point."
"So you did think it was funny?" Jess pulled a fake shocked look that crossed his features.
"Goodbye Jess." Sage waved to the boy sarcastically.
"Goodbye Sage." Jess replied, poising his top lip as she strolled away.

SAGE entered the cosy family home, where her and her mother, Leanne lived. Sage wasn't that close to her parents, explaining why she was out of the house most of the time. She came into the house muttering the tune to her favourite song, 'Sk8er Boi' by Avril Lavigne, awfully off key. Her whole body stiffened when she looked up.
"Hey Sage." the man communicated, with a shaky voice.

THE GIRL was aghast at the figure of whom
she believed to be her father standing condescendingly. Sage's father had left both her and her mother shortly after the girl was born. Sage had learned that she had been an accident, wasn't planned. So when her mother had been in the delivery room, her father had taken off, moved to a southern state, and started over. Sage didn't speak. She looked at her mother, then back to her father.
"You look, older." her father stammered.
"You wouldn't know." Sage mumbled, her posture slanted, letting her feet shift from side to side. Her mother stayed silent. Sage gulped. Her father moved his tongue around his jaw.
"Okay, um.." Not wanting to stand in the tension any longer, Sage swiftly treaded away. As soon as she got into her room, she flipped back onto her bed and stared at the canary yellow wall that faced her. She stood up after a while, being careful not to step on any floor boards that could creak. She pressed her ear to the door.
"Darren, you can't just walk in like this!" her mother's muffled voice spoke.
"I just wanted to see my daughter okay?" her father's voice sounded quieter, making it harder for Sage to hear. 
"You could've seen her the day she was born, 17 years ago, oh no, that's right, you left us."
"You knew I was in a bad place."
"I don't care! You don't leave your newborn daughter and her mother alone in the hospital." her mother's tone quivered, sounding like she was holding back tears, like the memories of the day of Sage's birth haunted her to even give thought to. She felt the door to the room open and she rapidly leaped onto her bed and was lying there for when her father invaded her space. The two didn't didn't speak at first. Her father brought up the first subject.
"So, how old are you?"
"Seventeen." Sage answered, lying in her side. Her father nodded and tutted with his lips.
"You like reading?" he skimmed his fingers over the girl's full bookshelf.
"Yeah." He yanked out Sage's favourite book from the shelf. The front cover if it was decorated in doodles, that's Sage had drawn over the years after rereading it many times.
"You like this book? Jane Eyre?" her father pointed to the enlarged letters that formed the title.
"Yes. I love Jane Eyre." Sage changed her position to sitting with her knees to her chest.
"Are you kidding? I love Jane Eyre!"
"Really?" Sage scrunched up her nose, not fully believing he fathers words.
"Of course! I've read this book like seven times! I'm sure you've reached it way more than I have."
"Seventeen. I've read it again each year I've been alive. My friend and I, Rory, we read together often at the diner."
"Well that's awesome." Sage's father grinned and Sage half smiled.