don't you forget about me. (chapter 1)

Introduction

Ebony-

Her eyes were the most beautiful green I’ve ever seen. Her hair was the softest I’ve ever felt. She came down south when we were seventeen. “From Indiana.” She’d say with that Yankee twang in her voice and a sparkle in those eyes. You’d hardly ever see that girl without a book in hand. When she wasn’t reading, she was sitting off in a corner, daydreaming away.

Jack-

His eyes were the most amazing color of deep, sapphire blue you’ll ever see. His hair was prettiest I’ve ever seen on boy, brown and blonde mixed together, always windblown and perfect. He’s from the south, with an accent that gets stronger with his temper. He didn’t give a damn what people thought. “He’s gorgeous” the girls would say breathlessly. His skin was tan from all that football, lacrosse, baseball, &&basketball he played in the sun. There was no sport he hadn’t played and no girl he hadn’t dated. Except for Ebony Roberts. But that’s about to change.

Prelude

A girl sat in the corner of study hall, her eyes glued to the book she held in her hands. Her light brown waves of hair glinted and shone in the sun that draped across her from the window.

“That a good book?”

Ebony Roberts, a sophomore, jumped, dropping her book. It landed on the floor, her page lost. Jack Harris, the most popular junior boy, bent down to pick it up, and as he handed it to her, their hands brushed.

Ebony’s cheeks burned as she blushed. Smiling she thanked him in a whisper.

“No problem.” Jack said, his answering smile slightly crooked. “I’m Jack Harris. I’m guessing you’re Ebony?”

She nodded. “Hi.”

This was the problem with being the new girl. You had to meet people. Being incredibly shy was a horrible disadvantage.

Jack wasn’t very used to girls being the way Ebony was. All the girls he’s dated were loud and bubbly and never stopped talking. This new girl from the north was way quieter than them. If he went up to Summer Rollins, who was gossiping with her friends and kept glancing over his way, she would babble on and on about some meaningless thing like shopping. He could get any girl in this room, maybe even the twenty-something year old teacher, to go on a date with him this very night.

Jack knew he had looks. Sure he dated a lot of girls, and had a pretty big popularity level, but he wasn’t a stuck up son of a bitch, like all those spoiled brats who were defined as ‘the most popular kids in school’. The fact that that’s his title and these people were his ‘friends’ doesn’t change anything.

But now, he couldn’t get a girl. This was unknown territory. And now, he had a goal. He was gonna get this girl. Ebony Roberts was gonna be his girl by the end of the year.

Ebony

One.

Bad Idea.

“Another new one?” Jack’s voice reached my ears, and my heart soared at the beautiful sound, a smile instantly touching my lips. My eyes looked up from the latest book I was reading, and they eagerly found his face. But, oh! His eyes were on my book. Can’t have that, now, can we?

“Mhmm.” I said, feeling very proud of myself. It had been a little over a year since my first day here at Maple Tree High and every girl in the school was jealous of me. I always had Jack’s full and complete attention.

Emma Young, Celia Rose, and Holly Monroe, were my best friends. Or close friends, compared to Jack. But Jack was only a friend, nothing more, even though many thought it was so, especially with all the casual touches. Jack liked to place his arm around my waist, hold my hand, and hug me when we parted from each other, which wasn’t often. “He likes you!” my friends would squeal.

I’d also become good friends with Norah Harris, Jack’s sister. “He should be asking you out soon. Unless he already has...?” she said to me once. I’d shaken my head.

As these comments kept coming, I began to wonder. I knew the look in his eyes when he looked at me. I saw it in all the guys when they looked at their girlfriends. I knew this look personally. It was a look of pure love, and admiration, and...and... the knowing that you’ll follow them anywhere, that you love them so much it hurts. I wondered if I had that look, because I knew I felt it.

As I came back to the present, I looked around us. We were alone in the park. I marked my page, placed the book next to me on the bench I sat on, and stood.

Facing him, I took his hands in mine, and gazed in to his sapphire eyes. He flashed me a crooked smile, but confusion and curiosity shone in his eyes. I knew what I had to do if I wanted him to know. Butterflies crashed into the walls of my stomach as I thought of it. But a little voice in the back of my mind warned me where this would end up. I ignored it.

I stepped closer to him, stood on tip toes and pressed my lips to his. He didn’t pull away. In fact, he did the opposite. At first, his lips crushed mine as my hands tangled in his hair. Then we slowly pulled back at the same time, and I shook my head, realizing my mistake.

“No. We can’t do this. If friends do this, what happens when it ends?” I gazed at him “It’s over.” I answered myself. “Everything they ever had is gone, and all that’s left is bitterness and lost love.” And I knew another look was coming across my face. Loss, and pain, and bitterness, and a never ending sadness, all mixed in one. My chest ached as I remembered, my arms automatically folding across my chest.

Jack nodded, then tugged at my arms. They didn’t budge.

“Why do you do that? Every time you see a happy couple, or a certain guy, with specific looks you fold you arms. Why?”

I gazed at him, wonderment briefly replacing the pain I knew was in my eyes. “How...?”

“How did I know? I notice things.”

“Oh.”

He tilted his head to the side, waiting for an answer.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

“You don’t want to hear it.”

“Yeah I do.”

“No. You don’t” I said more firmly. I uncrossed my arms and rubbed my thumb against the inside of my wrist.

Suddenly, my wrists were in his hands, his own thumbs running across them. He flipped them over gently, revealing the pale underside of my arms, where dull scars stood out against my skin.

I didn’t want to remember the cause for these. I didn’t want to remember that I’d felt that lovely feeling before. I didn’t want to remember my best friend, my love, and the reason why we moved here. I didn’t want to remember that boy from the north.

A girl with a past, they called me.

I felt Jack’s fingers tracing an ‘N’ carved into my wrist, and winced. I didn’t want him to know.

“You moved here for a reason.” It was a statement.

I didn’t want Jack to know why I had moved here. I didn’t want him to know about the ‘accident’ as my parents referred to it. But it wasn’t an accident. It was only turned in to an accident when it went wrong.

I sighed. I’d been doing good here. I’d been happy. I’d made friends. There were no new marks upon my wrists. Even my new shrink said I wouldn’t have to see her as often.

I gazed up at him, torn. A war was going on in my head.

I could walk away from this, I knew. My parents would willingly move to another town if I asked. They didn’t want me to have another ‘accident’.

But I wanted this. I wanted Jack and I wanted friends. I liked the life I had here.

But if I told him, what if he ran away? I was an ‘emo’. Nobody liked emo kids. They were sick and disgusting and shunned.

“Will you listen?” I asked, “Will you stay? Will you not run away? Because I like it here. I really do. And I don’t want to move away again.” I was rambling, trying to distract myself from the familiar aching in my chest.

His warm hands squeezed mine reassuringly. “Of course I’ll stay. I’m here for you Ebony, always remember that.”

I winced at this comment but plowed on.

“You might wanna sit down. It really is a long story.” I murmured, glancing at the bench. He nodded and sat with me, still holding my hand.

“You know that I used to live in Indiana.” I started, and then took a deep breath, preparing myself to tell my story. Then I smiled, an idea coming to mind.

“I have a better idea on how to tell this. It’ll be a little easier.”

He nodded, waiting patiently for me to start.