Jacob + Jenna [CONFIDENTIAL]

Day number six of my senior year feels like it should be day number sixty. After school today, Delilah came running up to me with a crumpled piece of paper in her hand.
“You HAVE to read this!”
I tried to take it from her but she kept blocking my hand. It looked like a note that someone was ashamed of and had thrown away. The handwriting was scrawled and it looked kind of like Jacob’s. Was it a note from him to Delilah?
“You can’t look at it here. There are too many people.”
She looked over her shoulder to the left and then to the right. No one was anywhere near us. She hooked her arm through mine and we started walking to my house without saying a word. I half-expected her to start laughing because of how odd she was acting. When we got to my house, I unlocked the door and Sparkle came running toward us. Delilah didn’t even reach down to pick her up. She took me by the elbows and sat me down on the couch. The crumpled paper was all balled up in her hand. Slowly, she smoothed it out on her knees and handed it to me.
“Read carefully.”
I heeded her warning. It was difficult to read because the writing was in pencil and was smudged from being handled with such little care. I tilted it up toward the light and it said:
Description Practice
Jacob, Pd. 4
She’s a girl.
She has brown eyes of sorrow and joy at the same time.
She has blonde hair that is both golden and simple.
She has soft pink lips that are a perfect match to mine.
Her nose is round and I love the way it scrunches when she makes faces at me.
Her ears aren’t pierced, though they used to be.
The way she smiles can chase away clouds of grey.
She chatters her teeth when she’s stressed.
She grits her teeth when she’s frustrated.
Her soft skin is always warm.
Her hands fit with mine like two puzzle pieces.
The softness of her face mixes with the sharpness of her attitude.
She’s a contradiction.
I know everything about her.
Even things no one else knows.
She’s the only girl for me.
At first glance, I imagined friendship.
Right now, I see soul mate.
Our hearts were meant to be together.
If only time was on our side.

I looked at my best friend with a questioning look. No doubt this was about me…but where did it come from and what was the purpose for this to be written. Delilah wouldn’t say anything. She just looked at me and tried to filter my reaction into a deeper meaning. I was afraid to move.
“We had to write descriptions today in English and I asked him what he was writing about. He didn’t really answer me. When I got stuck, I looked at him and noticed that he was getting another piece of paper out of his notebook and was tucking the other one under his desk and he began writing a new one. When class was over, he told some kid that he wrote about a football field, but I swore I saw the word ‘blonde’ on his paper. I snatched it from his hands and it was really about a football field. I gave the paper back and he looked at me curiously, so I knew he had another piece of paper somewhere. When the bell rang, I watched him walk by the door and crumple this up and throw it away. I grabbed it before anyone threw their gum on top of it.”
“This happened in fourth period and you waited until now to give it to me? We had lunch, free period, PE, Glee Club, and you waited until after school? Why? I want to talk to him about this.”
I started to get up and race toward the door but Lilah grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“You can’t! He doesn’t know I grabbed this. As far as he’s concerned, it’s still sitting in the trash can in English class. You can’t tell him I gave this to you!”
“But if he feels this way, I need to tell him that I feel the same. We could be happily together right now. Why won’t he say something to me? I don’t understand!”
“I don’t know but if you want me to be your spy, he can’t know that I fill you in. If he ever finds out about this, he won’t tell me anything.”
She was right. It’s great to know he feels the same way but it’s terrible that I can’t do anything about it. I really just want to run over there right now and kiss him and tell him I know how he feels and I feel the same way. I can almost feel his lips on mine. Okay…so I can’t tell him about this piece of paper…and I can’t tell him I know how he feels…but I can hint even more and know that he’s thinking the same things I am. Maybe the only problem is that he doesn’t know how I feel about him. That’s it.
“Jenna! JENNA! NO!”
As I dug my phone out of my purse pocket, Delilah ran after me about ready to tackle me.
“I’m not going to tell him about this! I’m just gonna talk to him. Give him a chance to ask me.”
In my contacts, I found his name and hit the send button. By the second ring, I remembered that I had no idea what I was going to say. When he picked up, I realized that I had absolutely no game plan at all. When he said Hello again, I panicked.
“Why did you hang up?!”
Delilah ran over to me and took the phone out of my hands. I just stood there, still shocked.
“I had no idea what I was going to say.”
“AAAAHHHH!” she threw the phone in the air and I ran to catch it.
“What?!?”
“He’s calling back!”
She was right. The phone was vibrating and ringing and his name was all over my home screen. I didn’t really know what to do so I answered it…and winged it.
“Hello?”
“Jen, did you just call me?”
“Did I? Sorry, it must have been a pocket dial.”
“Oh that’s okay. Nothing like a pocket dial to bring people together.”
“Yeah.” Saying lame things meant he was nervous…right?
“So while I have you on the phone, I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow night. I was hoping we could grab some dinner tomorrow around 5. Interested?”
“Yeah that sounds great! Uh…I mean…we should catch up.”
“You’re right, we should. Okay. I’ll come get you around 5?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“I don’t know yet.”
His voice indicated a smile as he said it. I knew he was planning something because he just left it at that and hung up, no goodbye or anything. I looked over at Delilah, who was sitting there listening to every word. She still asked me what happened.
“We’re going to dinner tomorrow to catch up.”
“Psh! He acts like you haven’t talked in months or years. It’s just been a week. I’d hate to see what happens if you don’t talk at all this school year. You’ll have to go on a vacation together to catch up.”
I rolled my eyes at her, sat down on the couch, and reached for the remote. Without saying anything, I turned the TV on and started flipping through channels. Delilah just stared at me, waiting to hear more. I just ignored it and turned on The Parkers on BET.
“Well….!?”
“Well what? You heard the whole thing. We’re going out for dinner tomorrow.”
“And you aren’t jumping up and down in excitement?!”
“No. Why would I? It’s just dinner. We’ve gone out before.”
“Yeah but now you know how he feels about you. Maybe tonight is the night.”
“No way. Writing something like that means he’s felt this way for a while. The fact that he hasn’t said anything yet is an indication that he might not. I don’t want to get my hopes up because then I’ll just end up disappointed.”
“Ugh! Jenna!”
I turned the TV volume up and watched. At least, pretended to watch. She had no idea what it was like to hint as much as I have and come up with nothing. I’m tired of thinking every single day is going to be The Day. The day he finally asks me will be nice, but it will be unexpected. I’m not putting my heart out there anymore because there’s no point. If he hasn’t asked by now, he probably won’t.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
The whole idea of keeping my calm and not getting nervous was completely destroyed at 4 ‘clock the next evening. It was just Tuesday dinner plans, not Friday movie date plans, and I knew this, but I couldn’t stop stressing about what I was wearing, how my makeup looked, the way my hair fell, the breakouts on my face, the chipping nail polish on my fingers, the way my shoes looked in the mirror, the bloating I was feeling due to menstrual hell, or anything else that was another reminder that I’m not a Greek Goddess. I’d come to terms with the whole body peace thing that Seventeen magazine offers and I, in no way, hated my body. But when you’re going out with the guy you are absolutely head-over-Chuck Taylors for and, for the first time, you know he feels the same way, there’s a new pressure. All the sudden, you’re uglier than a troll, fatter than a sumo wrestler, pimplier than a leper, greasier than a mechanic, and you have the style of a forty year old woman. It’s terrible, it really is. But it’s just one of those laws of life for a teenage girl.
When my doorbell rang at 4:56, I was doomed for failure. I heard my dad answer the door which gave me at least fifteen minutes to throw something together. . Someone yelled up the stairs for me but I didn’t have enough focus to determine who. I yelled a quick answer that sounded as if I was simply putting on the finishing touch of lip gloss and blowing a kiss to the mirror. What a lie! Hopefully my dad really rambles today because I need to create an attractive teenage girl out of a cave-troll-woman in under twenty minutes.
Ready, Jenna?
Get set…
GO!
I ran to the closet and grabbed these skinny jeans that made my butt look tremendous. There was a slight muffin top due to abdomen swelling (aka mother nature torturing me) so I grabbed a ruffled floral shirt I just bought from a thrift store Lilah and I went to. Jacob hasn’t seen it, yet. The weather outside was kind of windy and I didn’t know if spaghetti straps were a good idea, even though it was the second week of August. I tiptoed over to the door, slowly opened it, and dropped to my hands and knees before someone spotted me. I crawled down the hallway and over to the railing that overlooked the foyer where my dad was talking to poor Jacob. He was wearing a sweatshirt. Score! I can borrow his! I crawled back to my room and shut the door quickly. I washed all the makeup off my face and started over from scratch. Part of me wanted to go without any but, sadly enough, makeup is where my confidence comes from most of the time. I just applied some mascara, liquid eyeliner across the top lid, and some subtle red lipstick. Keeping it simple should be okay for the evening. My hair wasn’t too bad looking, just a little greasy looking from being messed with so much. I took a towel through it and then put my bangs into a bump. Not bad for only using three minutes. I heard someone walking up the stairs so I hurried over to my closet and grabbed some strappy sandals with no heel at all. A heel is just added likelihood that I’ll fall.
Someone was walking toward my door…and something told me it wasn’t one of my parents. I had clothes thrown everywhere! Bras and underwear even! I grabbed the nearest wristlet off my dresser and threw my phone, keys, money, and lip balm in it. I lightly dabbed some perfume on my wrists, neck, and cheeks. When I saw my door handle start to turn, I tossed the glass bottle, hoping it didn’t break. I caught the door as soon as it opened and slipped out before any of my room was visible.
“Hi Jacob!”
“Hi…ready to go?”
“Yup!”
He smiled and started walking down the stairs. I closed my door until I heard the click and then took a deep breath before catching up. My dad was at the bottom of the stairs with my mom waiting. Jacob opened the door for me and my dad winked at him before we walked outside. He closed the door and then strode up beside me while we walked on the sidewalk to his car. I slowed down on purpose because I wanted to see if he was walking with me or just walking. His pace slowed, too! I smiled to myself but he noticed.
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Why are you smiling?”
“Oh just because.”
He dropped the situation and walked around to the passenger side to get my door. My heart fluttered a little bit as I climbed in and he shut the door behind me. I saw him walk around to his door and wave at my parents, who were now standing outside watching us. Creepy. He opened his door and jumped in. He put the keys in the ignition and turned them. Right after he buckled up, he put it in gear and pulled away from the curb and onto the road. Part of me wished he’d borrowed his dad’s truck again so I could sit right next to him, but he used his own car this time. It’s a nice Chevy Malibu in a stunning red color and it’s really nice, but the console in the middle is a stopper of any kind of PDA. Sometimes I think that’s the only reason the consoles are put into cars, to stop teenagers from snuggling whilst driving. Ugh!
“Jacob, where are we going?”
“No where special. I just thought we’d go to Torrance’s.”
Torrance is this kid at school and his dad has his own restaurant. There’s only one and it’s family owned and operated. The food style was mainly Italian, my favorite. I’m convinced Jacob knew this. The car ride wasn’t long at all. I wasn’t paying attention to the road or anything though, mainly just daydreaming that he’ll get down on one knee in the restaurant and ask for my hand in marriage. Silly, I know…girl’s gotta dream, you know.
When he pulled into the parking lot, he had a space right next to the entrance. I tried to hurry and unbuckle and get my own door but he was there before I even found the handle. He’s good. He opened my door and offered me a hand to assist jumping down. I would have taken it if my palms weren’t so sweaty due to nerves.
When we were seated and given menus, I gave him a questioning look. At first, he acted like he didn’t notice. I seriously didn’t think he noticed until a huge smile cracked his face. He cleared his throat and the smile turned into a serious look. He just put all of his attention on his menu and trying to decide what he wanted. I just stared at him. Only when the waiter came to take our order did I notice that I hadn’t even opened my menu.
“I’ll have the spaghetti with a house salad and ranch dressing. No tomatoes please. And she’ll have the shrimp alfredo with a house salad, no onions, extra croutons, and thousand island dressing.”
He didn’t look at me at all since we sat down at the table and now he was spouting off my order and the exact way I like my salad? The waiter scribbled all this, smiled, turned on his heel , and walked away. Jacob tucked our menus back behind the condiments rack and picked up the pepper shaker. In my wristlet, I started digging for my phone, ready to take a picture of whatever he spelled out with his pepper.
B my GF?
I Love You?
Will U B Mine?
I just watched as he slid grains of pepper across the table. By the time the salads came, he had spelled nothing, drew nothing, and said nothing. He wiped the pepper off the side of the table and began decorating his salad with dressing. I didn’t even look at mine. I just pushed it aside and put propped my elbows on the table and glared at him. This whole silent thing was starting to get annoying and SERIOUSLY aggravating.
“It’s rude to put your elbows on the table,” he said with a mouth full of lettuce.
“It’s rude to take a girl out to catch up and then not say anything to her.”
He stopped chewing and looked at his fork before beginning to chew again. When he swallowed, he put his elbows on the table just like mine. He mimicked my glare.
“Jenna, I don’t take you for stupid. I know you know more than I think. So I’m going to keep you guessing. We both know you aren’t here to tell me about your first week of school. I know as well as you that you hate school this year and I really don’t want to go through the pain of hearing you describe it because there’s no way for me to make it better and it kills me. So, let’s continue eating our salads and making small talk during the meal. Don’t be nervous, don’t be curious, don’t ask questions. Just follow my lead.”
The look on his face was teasing and true. He wasn’t being smart or rude or ignorant. He was simply targeting every thought in my head and reasoning with each one of them. I leaned back as the glare dissolved and my face was relaxed. I broke eye contact and started to eat my salad. I heard him pick up his fork and do the same. The conversation was officially over and no new ones took its place. Through the salads, the entrees, and the dessert, we said no more to each other. There were a few teasing glances here and there and a game of footsies under the table, but no words. Not even when the check came and he reached for his wallet at the same time I reached for my money. He didn’t tell me no, he simply laughed and shook his head. He put a card inside the fancy black book and scribbled some numbers down. The waiter picked it up and left just as soon as Jacob looked at me. His sudden smile made my heart stop and the hairs on my arm stand up. We just sat there in a perpetual staring contest…until the waiter ruined it with a tacky “Have a good evening”.
Once outside, the blowing wind made me shiver. I tried to cover it up as best as I could but Jacob noticed and gave me his sweatshirt…as I’d planned. I threw it over my head and messed up some strands of hair in the process. As they fell in my face, I tried to bat them away but they just fell back. That’s when he made the move I’d been expecting all night. He moved closer, brushed the hair aside and back to where it was supposed to be. His eyes locked with mine and his fingers found my chin. He tilted my head upward and moved in closer. My heart raced and my pulse was rapid. I could feel my breathing get slower and slower until…
BAM.
His lips were on mine. It took me a second to break the shock and then realize that I was finally kissing Jacob Mathers. After two months of hinting, I was finally kissing him!
When he pulled his lips away, his hand left my chin and found my fingers. Slowly, he traced each finger and then interlaced mine with his. As I opened my eyes, he was looking down at me with a certain simplicity. His dark brown hair fell into his deep green eyes. His smile made me feel all the right things in the world. I’ve been waiting for this for months and now it was finally here.
I bit my bottom lip and looked at the ground. He moved back and pulled at my hand, indicating that I should follow. When we got to his car, he opened the door for me and I slid in. I expected him to close the door and proceed to the driver’s side, but he crouched down and looked at me instead. With a surprised look on my face, I started to ask what he was doing when he stopped me.
“Don’t be nervous, don’t be curious, don’t ask questions. Remember?”
He smiled even brighter and any words in my head disappeared. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a small velvet box. At first my heart leapt in excitement…then my brain whirled in confusion. I liked him, might love him, but I don’t want to marry him. I was creating a long speech in my head explaining that I don’t wish to be engaged when he removed any fuzziness from my head.
“Jenna, I’ve liked you for five and a half months now. I took a long shot asking you to come out with me tonight and I was so afraid you would shoot me down. I see now that I still have a lot to learn about you in order to really know you. So, Jenna Miller, I promise not to lie, not to cheat, not to leave, and to love you always. Will you be my girlfriend?”
He opened the box and there was the cutest ring inside. Two hearts connected on a silver band with a purple stone on the line where they connect. He must have known that purple was my favorite color. I realized that I wasn’t breathing, moving, or answering his question. He was just looking at me. I tried to build the perfect answer in my head but no words would form. Suddenly, my mouth started moving without permission from my mind or heart.
“Jacob Mathers, you bring up a good point. Obviously you don’t know me at all if you even have to ask.”
His eyes lit up and he slid the ring on my left hand. I jumped out of the car as he stood up. He wrapped his arms around me in one of the warmest hugs I’d ever had.
“Jacob…I think I might….love you.”
He stopped and looked down at me. I had instant regret for saying the L word too early. He’s a guy…this’ll scare him away for sure. I might as well remove the ring and walk home to avoid the awkwardness in the car. His hug loosened up and I could only look at the ground with embarrassed, burning red cheeks.
“The cool thing is…I feel the exact same way but I didn’t want to say it.”
“The exact same way?”
“Yeah…I know my feelings are past ‘like’. I’m just so confused by how strong I feel about you and I don’t know if it’s love yet or not. I just know I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. . I know there’s a lot of hype over saying it too soon so I didn’t want to. But it’s true…it’s gotta be true. I love you, Jenna!”
“I love you, too, Jacob.”
He pulled me into another hug and kissed my head. It felt great to finally belong to him after all these months of hinting and wanting. When he let me go, I could feel the difference. When I looked at him, I could see it. He’s no longer my best friend, Jacob. He’s my boyfriend Jacob.

Writers Block on 'Roids

     First things first, it's time for me to make a confession. I'm not catholic and you're not a priest so judging is totes okay. I won't judge you for judging me.
Ever heard of NaNoWriMo? Let me break it down for ya.


Na..tional
No..vel
Wri..ting
Mo..nth.
National Novel Writing Month.
Also Known As: November.


The website(http://www.nanowrimo.org/) refers to it as "30 days of literary abandon." Say whaaaa? Basically, it's 30 days for you to write and write and try to get your words published into--not FIFTY, not a THOUSAND, but FIVE. FIVE copies. Yeah. Carpal tunnel, writer's block, migraines, Excedrine, Chocolate, tissues, tears, and scandalous secrets hidden in a fictitious closet...all for FIVE copies of 50,000 words you threw together in 30 days.


And I'm participating.
JK I'm failing.


Day 13.
Words I should have: 21,671
Words I actually have: 6,325
Failing.


     I've had the document open for the past hour. In my defense, I started at five thousand, eight hundred and some about an hour and a half ago.
My story is a super been-there which is why it was born - I've been there.

What happens...is:

"Jenna loves Jacob and is just waiting on him to ask to be official. When he doesn't, she moves on, believing that he is truly uninterested. The start of their senior year at school lands her in zero classes with Jacob...and in math class with Mr. New Guy. All she did was change her seat for a day and she stumbled upon the rugged, handsomeness that is Clark Renig. Instant butterflies. Eeeep he likes her, too! PERFECT! Until Jacob decides he's ready to be official.And Jenna finds that feelings for him haven't totally fizzled out. And she doesn't want to let Clark go. What does she do? Who does she pick? Easy. Both. The secret is easy to keep. She lies better than a rug and can keep a straight face no matter what. Sure, she feels bad about lying all the time but both of her guys are happy and so is she. What's the harm? Everybody wins. So when she's pregnant, there shouldn't be a problem, right? The guy she was sexually active with is the dad. Simple. Right? WRONG! She doesn't know which boy fathered the baby. While her infidelity is a problem, she'll bow down and pray for forgiveness AFTER she begs God for mercy and a plan.

How do you tell your boyfriends that your pregnant and you don't know which boy the baby belongs to?"

     In the end, she tells them both and has a miscarriage shortly after. Neither of the guys will take her back because she screwed them over so badly and she's stuck by herself with a best friend picking up the shattered pieces of a triple-broken heart. Before you feel all bad for her, remember: she totally deserved it. Little tramp!


Anyways, I'm failing.
Hello Writer's Block.
And goodbye blog world.
I have a blinking cursor to go stare at.

Imperfection at its Finest

     Francesca Battistelli said it best. "But perfection is my enemy." BINGO! Sixteen years old, hair of two different colors, constant breakouts, extra pounds, and imperfect teeth--paired with no desire for braces. My last report card was A+, A, A, B, B. I do my homework the day it's due...usually in the before. I wake up a half hour late EVERY single morning, rarely brush my hair, and wear flip-flops only in establishments in which shoes are required.

Like I said...Imperfection at its finest.

     I'm not perfect. I never claim to be. Sure there are extremely trashy people that make me feel good about myself. Hello...I'm human and I'm a teenage girl. It's just natural. But every time I make a mistake, I'm sent falling off my high horse with a SMACK into reality. I'm not perfect and I'm not better than anyone else. I know this. Just look at my profile picture, my teeth, my grades, my body, or my driving, and you'll know it too.

So what is this?
This blog is a record of all my imperfectitudes and courtneyisms.
And, after I die, it will become a bestseller.

JK

But we all have hopes and dreams.

And self-esteem.