Sunday, September fourth.
I woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting up into my third floor bedroom. I rolled over onto my side and was jolted with pain as I landed on my wrist. I turned onto my other side and opened my eyes, lifting my wrist up to my face. Nick's rag and sweatshirt sleeve still covered it, so I rolled off the sleeve and pulled off the rag, revealing my injury. I was a little grossed out, seeing how deep and wide it was, but it had stopped bleeding. It was scabbed over lightly but it looked like it could break back open at any moment. I stood up and fumbled around boxes, finding one called "Other-Ariana". I peeled open the lid and ruffled through it, finding a small plastic container finding all sorts of gauze and bandages and medical tape that I'd needed for the past year daily. I snapped off the lid and pulled out a white gauze and tape. I took it with me to the bathroom, smiling. I hated that I loved cutting, but it made me feel so powerful, to know that I had done something that awful to myself. I set down the bandages down on the counter and stripped out of Nick's football sweatshirt, my tank top, bra, leggings, and underwear. Turning on the warm water, I stepped into the newly cleaned shower, letting the water drop down onto my long messy black curls. The water reached my shoulders and fell down onto my naked chest, making it's way down my tan arms. It spread over my newest injury and sprung upon me a stinging pain. I closed my eyes and reveled in what I had done.
Sometimes I felt a little crazy. How could someone bring themselves to drag a blade over their own wrist and let the veins open to the world? I wasn't really sure. But I could do it. And I knew it was bad, but I really didn't mind. The water soaked my small body and I shampooed and conditioned my hair. I washed myself until I smelled of coconut and vanilla, and thought about the last nights events. Nick was cute. Nick Chandler. He played football. He was sweet. He cared about strangers.
But he was too good to be true, just like the last one had been. And the last one hurt more than anything in the entire world. I couldn't put myself through that again. But he was so cute. And his eyes were the brightest things I'd ever seen. And his abs? That was nice too. Plus, he made me feel safe. Safer than I'd felt in such a long, long time. But I wasn't going to trust a stranger so quickly. I hadn't even started school yet. I turned around in the shower and let the conditioner run out of my hair under the pressured water raining down around me. Turning off the shower, I stepped out and wrapped the towel around me. I dried myself off, patting down my wrist extra carefully, and then wrapping the gauze around it tightly and securing it with tape. I smiled down at how injured it looked, a spark of crazy making me feel a little out of control, and then with my towel wrapped around me, I continued to my room and threw down the towel. I looked at myself in the full sized mirror that was propped against the wall. I was small. About 5'6". I was curvy, I had a butt and decent boobs, and my waist did that little hourglass thing in the middle. My legs were long, but still proportional to my waist. My black hair dropped down a couple inches below my boobs and framed my face. I smiled at myself and ruffled through my duffel bag to find a pair of underwear and a bra. I pulled on a dark pair of skinny jeans and a long sleeved black vneck that easily covered my bandaged wrist. I ran a brush through my hair, swiped on a little mascara and lip gloss, and made my way downstairs.
"Goodmorning, sleepyhead." My moms cheerful voice whistled as she saw me come down the stairs. "It's nearly 1 o'clock."
I rubbed my eyes sleepily. "Couldn't sleep last night."
She chuckled and put a pancake onto a plate. "Come eat."
I made my plate in our abnormally clean kitchen as my mom began rambling on about decorating. "I think I'm going to go into the office today, just to get everything set up and all. I should be back to make dinner though." She said nonchalantly. I shrugged. "Do you have everything you need for school tomorrow?"
I nodded, suddenly dreading school. I would have to walk in, with absolutely no friends (Besides possibly Nick, but seeing as he played football and threw parties, he was most likely popular, and wouldn't want to hang out with the new girl.) and try and make my way through the most miserable four more years of my life.
My mom disappeared from the kitchen and returned a little bit later with her purse and a box in hand. "I'll see you a little bit later, hon. Walk Alby at least once today." I nodded once again, my mouth full of pancakes. The dog followed her to the door and barked as she left. Feeling ridiculously tired all of a sudden, I threw my plate in the empty dishwasher, and plopped down on the couch that sat infront of the flat screen that was mounted above the fireplace. Flipping it on, I stared groggily at some stupid MTV show and let myself nap a little bit.
The doorbell sprung me awake and caused the dog to bark repeatedly. I lifted myself off the couch and to the unfamiliar front door, opening it to find Nick, holding my sweatshirt, looking a little groggy as well.
"Hi." I said, smiling. He held out my fresh sweatshirt and I took it gratefully. "Thanks."
"No problem. You tired too?" He grinned.
I laughed. "Just a little bit." I realized I was being a rude and asked, "Oh, do you want to come in?"
"Yeah i guess so, it's a little cold." He stepped inside of my house and close enough to me for me to smell the familiar mintyness. He looked around curiously, "Nice place."
"Thanks. We haven't unpacked anything yet."
"Need any help?" He offered.
I thought about it. I had so much to do around the house. And secretly, in the back of my mind, I loved him in my house. "You could help me with my room?"
He smiled. He knew I was letting him in. "I'd love to."
I led him up the winding stairs and into my blank room. I had some Panic! at the Disco playing in the background, my bed was unmade, and boxes were strewn across everywhere.
I turned to him, he was smiling cutely.
"What?" I asked him.
"You like Panic." He stated.
"Yeah, I love them.. Do you?" I smiled.
"Yeah, they're the best. Actually, I have tickets for their concert next month and I was looking for someone that would go.. You up?"
Now, normally I wouldn't say yes to a almost-stranger inviting me to a concert. But I couldn't miss a Panic! concert. And Nick seemed sweet enough. And this would give me more time to make a friend?
I smiled at him shyly. "Yeah." And I nodded simultaneously.
"Great."
He sat down on my bed and picked up the bloody rag from the floor.
"Hows your wrist?" He asked.
I pulled up my sleeve and showed him the newly wrapped wound. "All better." I said.
We were both quiet for a couple minutes, I was rummaging through boxes and he was just looking around silently.
"Why do you do it?" He broke the silence abruptly.
"What?" I asked stupidly, even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Cut."
"Oh." I replied. I didn't answer for a while.
I thought about it for a little while. There were so many reasons that he probably wouldn't understand. When I was numb from pain, it was to feel. When I was hurting, it was to be in control of how much I hurt, and then sometimes it was just a distraction. In a way it was for my Dad. Even though I knew he couldn't see it, I felt like I was punishing him sometimes. And at the same time, I felt like I was punishing myself for not being perfect.
"I don't know." I answered.
He just looked at me. I looked away, not able to meet his eyes. Dumping out a box, I picked up a couple books and put it on the bookshelf.
"Mind if I take this?" He inquired, and I looked over at him to see him holding up my bloody blade from under my pillow.
My eyes widened and I scrambeled over to him, snatching it from him. "No." I said calmly, tucking it in my back jean pocket.
"Why not?" He sounded a little angry. I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Because."
I turned around and continued to pick up the books I'd dumped on the floor. Suddenly, I felt him behind me, one arm around my waist and the other one on my ass, digging into my back pocket. I felt him finger the blade and I turned around, facing him, infuriated.
"Stop it!"I said. "It's the only thing that keeps me okay. Please don't."
His face was so close, and his hand was still in my back pocket.
"I can't let you keep hurting yourself, Ariana. It's not safe. I'm worried about you."
"Well don't be. I barely even know you. I can take care of myself!" I jerked away from him and felt him leave the blade in my pocket. I walked into my closet, not wanting to look at him. Turning around slowly, I found that he was out on my balcony, sitting on one of my chairs. His face was buried in his hands and his hair was all ruffled. I slowly stepped towards him, and out onto the balcony myself, sitting beside him on the chair.
"I'm sorry." I whispered.
He lifted his head from his hands and said, "No. You're right. You don't know me. I don't know you."
I was silent.
"So tell me who you are, Ariana. I don't even know your last name."
"Barnes."I muttered, pulling my knees up to my chest.
"What's your middle name?"
"Rose."
"Ariana Rose Barnes. Pretty." He commented. I smiled.
"Whats yours?"
"Eh. Nothing special. Nicholas Jonah Chandler."
"I like it." I said quietly.
He smirked, seemingly happy with himself. "Siblings?" He pondered.
"Yeah. Julian and Brendon. But they live back home. They're older, out of college."
"Oh."
"You?"
"No." He said quickly.
"Oh."
"Tell me who you are."He said, folding his legs into a criss cross.
I was quiet. I didn't really know who I was. Or what to tell him. What was important? What even mattered?
Before I could say anything, he spoke.
"Fine. I'll go first. My Name is Nicholas Jonas Chandler. But only my parents call me Nicholas. Most people call me Nick. Some people call me Nicky, but I only like it when people I really like call me that. I have a really annoying dog, his name is Gassy, I named him that when I was five because he'd fart a lot. I used to have a cat, but she died last year. You would have liked her, she cuddled with everyone. My mom's name is Deborah. She means well, but most of the time she just seems crazy and controlling. My dad's never home, he always works. My mom makes the best macoroni and cheese in the whole entire world. I wasn't potty trained until I was six." I giggled a little bit, listening intently. He smiled at me. "We moved here when I was two. I've lived in that house for... seven years now I think. When we first moved in, I wanted to have a really pretty neighbor. Every day I'd walk around the neighborhood and look for a girl. Sometimes I'd even call out for her, I'd walk around yelling, 'Pretty neighbor?'" He yelled loudly, and I laughed outloud a little bit at his silliness. "But then my parents found out and grounded me from being out on my own. But once I was old enough to figure it out, I'd walk around at night and look for her. First I'd just walk around this neighborhood, but then I started going down farther. To the park. Through the forest. That probably wasn't safe. I never found anyone, so I stopped going about two years ago. But then this week I felt like I should go again, just for old times sake. So I went last night. And I found you."He looked up at me, and I blushed.
"I used to have this girlfriend named Bree, and one time I told her how I used to do that, and she forbid me from ever doing it again."
He stopped talking. I was looking at my toes.
"I had my first kiss when I was eleven with this girl named Audrey. She told me I had a weird nose after we kissed, and then she moved and I haven't talked to her since. My favorite food is... Probably Nilla Wafers. I play piano, and guitar. Panic! at the Disco and This Providence are my favorite bands. I played with barbies when I was little, and my dad was convinced that I was gay. I play football. I swim. And I play soccer. I made varsity football last year, and my dad always says that I better get a scholarship with it, cause' he isn't paying for college. So now everyone really counts on me to do well. I mean when does a sophomore ever become quarterback? Let alone make varsity? It doesn't happen. So I'm pretty much pressured to play every game at my greatest. Tryouts are tomorrow after school. You should come and watch. My best friend's name is AJ, you'd love him. He's the funniest kid around. I really hate my ears, because they're oddly small, and I secretly love Jersey Shore."
I smiled at him.
"My name is Ariana Rose Barnes. My birthday is November nineteenth. My mom's name is Lynn. She tries really hard at everything she does, and she worries too much. She gets scared that I'm gonna try and go after guys that are like my dad so I can, 'fill the place he left.'." I took a deep breath, ready to get out everything. "My dad left us last year. The day before he left he told me I was his everything, and that he wouldn't ever leave me, because I was the reason he breathed. The next night at 4am he drove away. He hasn't called. We don't even know where he is. Well, I don't. I think my mom does, but she won't tell me. My mom got me a dog a week after he left, because I wouldn't talk to anyone, and I wouldn't stop crying.
My parents were never married. When I was little we had this really big house that we built on the beach, but we moved when my dad lost his job. My favorite color is yellow. I get really sad in the winter, I'm not quite sure why. I love Nilla Wafers. With milk, it's the best snack in the world. I play soccer, and I do gymnastics almost everyday. I'm trying out for a team here next weekend. I want to be a writer when I grow up. Grades are everything to me, because I want a college to accept me far, far away from here so I can forget everything.
I did some stupid shit last school year and I lost everything. My friends left me. My boyfriend told me to go kill myself. So I did, or well, I tried. I ended up in the ER. I was deaf until I was three years old, and I got surgery to make me better. The first thing I ever heard was my mom telling me she loved me. I play piano, and guitar. I can't sing for my life, even though I wish I could. I really hate wearing pants, and I don't understand why we have to. I went to a private school back home, so I'm really ahead and I'm taking a lot of advanced classes this year.
I have ridiculously small ears too, and I try to fit a lot of piercings onto them so they don't look so tiny." He reached forward and tucked back my hair, his eyes widening at the 5 piercings in my tiny ear. "I refuse to ever get a piercing anywhere else. I've memorized every Panic! at the Disco song ever written. My mom still keeps baby wipes in the bathroom because she likes them better than toilet paper. I can't cook for my life. I play way too much xbox. And I sleep a lot."
He laughed.
And that was our day. We went back and forth. Saying every meaningless detail about our lives that we could think of, and I remembered them all. When it started raining we ignored it, until it started pouring. We curled up in the blankets on my bed and made a little fort. He told me his secrets. How he was secretly terrified of his father, and how his grandma and him were closer than he was with anyone. I told him that I watched a lot of Oprah, and that I was named after a british actress from the sixties. We made hot chocolate and had goldfish catching competitions in the kitchen.
I felt myself open up to him, more than I'd ever opened up to anyone. And even though I thought I might regret it, I decided that I trusted him. He got a call at five o'clock from his mother, telling him to come home. I tried to hold back my frown.
I realized then that I should give him back his sweatshirt, so I returned to my room, and he followed me. I found it in my sheets and handed it to him.
"Keep it." He said.
I smiled.
"Okay."
He was close to me, our bodies almost touching.
"I should go." He said quietly, looking down at me.
"Yeah."I whispered.
Suddenly, he kissed my forehead softly, causing me to blush wildly.
"Bye." He said.
"Bye Nick."
And he disappeared out of my bedroom door.
I watched him leave from my balcony. He walked down the street, and I realized that from my bedroom window, if I squinted, I could see his house. He turned up the driveway and looked back. I doubted he could see me, but I waved anyways. He entered his house, and disappeared inside.
I smiled to myself, and felt my forehead where he had kissed it.
Around nine, after watching a movie with my mom and eating an unhealthy desert, I sat on my bed, tired, content, anxious. My phone vibrated from my bedside table.
From: Nick Chandler
Hey, want a ride to school tomorrow?:)
I smiled. I liked the idea.
To: Nick Chandler
I'd love one. What time?
I fell back on my bed, smiling to myself. I felt for the blade in my pocket. Pulling it out, I walked to my closet. I opened the bottommost drawer, put it inside of an old soccer sock, and stuffed it back where I wouldn't even think of it. My phone vibrated.
From: Nick Chandler
7:45. Meet you outside.:) Sleep tight Ariana.
I thought about how he said my name. I liked how he said my name.
To: Nick Chandler
Sounds like a plan. Thanks for today. Goodnight Nick. :)
I changed into an oversized tshirt and warm socks, brushed my teeth, and crawled into bed. I set my alarm, tossed and turned for a couple minutes, and then fell into an easy, dreamless sleep.
I only got one review last time, but I figured I might as well put this up. I love hearing opinions :) This isn't a one-shot, I'm not sure exactly how long it'll be, but I have about four "chapters" written so far.
xoxo.