||Jamilla Tate|| First Person ||

"Definitely an asshole," Tara states the next morning, the young girl that I've grown accustomed to giving me advice lounging on my bed with a magazine held loose uly between her fingertips. Tara Lakeland has mastered the artful look of poised boredom as her resting face, her hooded eyelids and the allure of her pouting lips giving her the look that would make any girl jealous. She doesn't even look up at me as she says this, the morning sun peaking through the curtain partially closed over the window and shining a light along the bed. Her skin practically glows underneath the brightness of the sunlight, giving her an almost ethereal gleam.

"That's what I told him," I say, shifting through my closet for something that would be warm enough but not necessarily lazy-looking to wear. Nearing ten thirty in the morning, Tara stopped by to help me get ready to go out to lunch with Garrett as both Scarlet and Becca had class. So far, I would pull a shirt off of the hook in my closet and get Tara's opinion on it-- we haven't gotten very far yet.

"I'd say he's jealous," Tara says slowly, running her hand through her short, red pixie cut. "The boy feels threatened."

"That's ridiculous," I scoff, tugging out a pale pink long-sleeve shirt from the hanger. I hold it out and show Tara, who wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. "What would he feel threatened about?"

"Well," Tara says carefully, making direct eye contact with me for a moment as I let the shirt hang limply in my arms. "For starters, you're his conventionally attractive neighbour with a personality to match his own. Of course, he's interested in you." Tara smirks before glancing back down at her magazine.

"Funny," I say dryly before turning around and shoving the shirt back into my closet. "Seriously, Tara. He freaking lectured me--"

"See?" She says without looking up at me. "Don't be clueless, I've watched enough movies to have gotten the gist of this conversation."

"What?" I furrow my eyebrows, my voice carrying a tone of exasperation as I look at Tara incredulously.

"Get the green long-sleeve," Tara says dismissively. "No, the darker one," I pull the shirt off of its hanger and present it to her, holding it against my torso as to model it. Tara tilts her head for a moment and stares at me intently before she's nodding. "Those with the blue jeans, roll them up a bit." Tara looks back down to her magazine, so I turn around and begin to tug my t-shirt up and over my head. I get changed quickly into the outfit Tara advised me to wear before I grab my brown boots(also, the only pair I own) and tug them on over my ankle socks.

I stand up and look at Tara expectantly, doing a spin for her jokingly. She rolls her eyes but nevertheless laughs lightly. "Well, I've got to get going." I huff out finally as Tara rolls off of my bed and rises to her feet, the magazine held limply between her thumb and pointer finger. "Garrett said he'd wait outside,"

"He's cute and all, but don't forget about Josh." Tara smirks knowingly as she heads for the door. "He's a great suitor, really."

"Oh, shut up," I laugh at her, following Tara as she makes her way to the door. I slip out after her, tugging the door closed and locking it easily with my key. Tara begins to walk back to her dorm, but she turns around to look back at me.

"Text me as soon as you get back, Scarlet will want to hear about this." Tara tells me, and I chuckle and open my mouth to respond.

"Want to hear about what?" I turn around and am surprised to find Josh leaning casually against the doorframe to his dorm room, his arms crossed over his chest almost judgementally as he eyes me with peculiar interest. I do my best not to make eye contact.

"You didn't hear?" Tara says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I look at her and want to mouth with the utmost important for her to stop, to keep her mouth shut and her silver tongue from spinning the conversation around, but Josh is looking directly at me. Any attempt to communicate with Tara would be intercepted by Josh. "Garrett is taking dear Jamilla out for lunch today."

"Really," Josh says, raising his eyebrows at me. I shrug my shoulders and do my best to avoid his gaze. "How many long have you known him?"

"Oh, drop it already, Joshua." I say in an exasperated tone, and upon hearing his full name, he averts his gaze to the floor, his eyes trailing to stare at my boots as he speaks.

"Why can't you just accept my concerns?" Josh asks me.

"Because I don't need it." I state stubbornly. Josh begins to open his mouth to say something more, but I cut him off. "I'll see you later, Tara." I turn on my heel and try to shake the uncomfortable weight of Josh's remarks off of my shoulders, just wanting to enjoy the time I plan on spending with an insanely cute boy that doesn't find a reason to make me incredibly angry all of the time.

Despite the fact that I had promised Garrett Mason no more than lunch-- which seems to be the least serious time of day for a date--, I still can't help but feel nervous. I don't know a singly thing about this boy that I met out of sheer coincidence, and yet I am still taking the chance that Josh Dun is so against and going for the leap of faith.

I've never been on a date in my life, which is a pretty pathetic to say at the least. My mom would laugh in my face if I were to ever tell her that I was going out with someone, and my dad... My dad was another story. They were against me ever getting involved with anyone-- my mom said that I had more important things to worry about, like school for example, despite the fact that she wouldn't push me any farther than a community college that was well within walking distance from the apartment complex. I was trapped like a mouse in their house, in their home. It would never be my home. I would make my own elsewhere, far from them and the emotional abuse that they put me through.

"You do that a lot."

My head snaps up from the menu I had been staring at blankly for the past minute or so, my eyes wandering from the different lunch specials to the twinkling hazel eyes of the boy sitting in his seat across the small table. He clasps his hands together and leans forward, a cheesy smirk twisting the corners of his mouth up. "Sorry, what?"

"In the past ten minutes, you've done that little thinking face, maybe four times?" When I begin to laugh in uncertainty about that, Garrett shakes his head and laughs as well. "It's like... Your nose, just, scrunches up..." Garrett looks back up at me with an award winning smile, and I forget who I am for a second. I forget that I'm Jamilla Tate from Cleveland, Ohio with a past that drags me down consistently.

Josh was wrong about this.

"You smile a lot, you know that?" I say lightly, grinning when I see his smile widen once again. I know that my cheeks are burning infinitely with my appreciation of his beauty, but I can't seem to care. This is my first date, and no matter how minimalistic the two of us have made it, I can't help but think it's the right one-- the perfect one. "You have these dimples..." I lean forward and extend my hand towards Garrett's face, letting my thumb hover above the spot where his dimple is. Garrett's gaze averts downwards for a second before he looks back at me and maintains eye contact with me. "It's beautiful."

"Not everyday a man gets called beautiful," Garrett winks at me. I drop my hand and let out a laugh, something we can't seem to stop doing around each other.

"Charming," I huff out, a happy and rather dopey smile to mirror his own on my face as I lean back into my chair. I look back down at my menu, staring at it once again.

"Are you darlings ready to order?" A voice, slightly coarse with age but coated in pleasantries that would make even the grumpiest of people's feel warm on the inside. Garrett looks up at the woman with a smile on his face, glancing between her and his menu for a moment before he tells her that he wants a burger, a side of fries, and a Coke. Without thinking much about it, I decide to order the same thing.

"So, I, uh, I don't think your friend Josh likes me very much." Garrett says, and I scoff as I shift in my seat.

"Josh is complicated." I shrug my shoulders. "Are you complicated?" I ask him. Garrett pauses for a moment as he thinks about it.

"Aren't we all?" He raises his eyebrows. I lean against the table and chew on my bottom lip, staring out the window thoughtfully as I think about Garrett's rather inquisitive declaration.

        It'd be hypocritical of me to judge people based on their levels of complexity when I'm probably the most complicated person on my floor in Park-Stradley Hall. Josh is cautious of people around me and he always has a habit of starting an unnecessary argument between us just when our friendship is going good. He's this fire that I can't help but be drawn to, like a moth to a flame, and it infuriates me that I can't forget about him when I have so much goodness sitting right across from me with this dopey smile that could make a nun faint.

        And yet, despite the fact that I adore Garrett so much already, I can't help but think about how different this conversation-- this entire date would go if it was Josh sitting across from me and not him.

        I'm not sure how long I watch cars driving by the little off-campus diner before Garrett's lovely voice is startling me again out of my reverie. "There's that face again," I break out in a grin at that, one that he reciprocates handsomely, and I think then that this has to be one of the best days of my life.

The date goes by quicker than I hoped it would, but soon enough the food is done and Garrett has to walk me back to my dorm so he can make it on time to his afternoon lecture and so that I can get ready for my own. Garrett stands in front of me with his hands dug deep into the pockets of his jeans, the wind rustling some of his curls as he looks down at his shifting feet. The nervousness radiating off of him despite reaching the end of a rather successful lunch date is insufferably adorable to me. I tug my jacket around my chest more, bracing myself against the wind.

"Giving you a chance went alright, hm?" I say. Garrett chuckles nervously at my comment as he shifts from foot to foot in the cold.

"I'm glad you took that chance," Garret says, "Though I am a lonesome Photography student, I think you're wonderful, Jamilla."

"Like I said," I blush bashfully, "charming." Garrett smiles at me before he gets a look at the time and glanced back at me apologetically.

        "We'll catch up soon, I hope." He raises an eyebrow at me in questioning, and I nod my head as he slowly(and reluctantly, I'd like to say) backs away. He continues to walk backwards, a grin on his face as he forced himself to turn around and face forward. He shoots me a wave and one last look as he walks away, this time managing to not stumble over his feet as he leaves. I laugh lightly before heading into my building.

        The smile on my face doesn't falter throughout my entire journey up to my floor, my fingers tingling with excitement as I head for my room so I can put my things away and then find Tara and Scarlet, who would definitely want to hear about how it went with Garrett. I push the partially open door slightly, entering the room to find Becca chilling on her bed with her earphones in and her nose buried in a book. I don't want to interrupt her, so I quietly go to my side of the room and start searching for my History textbook in the mess. I'm startled when she speaks.

        "Oh, this came for you while you were gone." Becca says, reaching over to her nightstand to grab a sealed envelope addressed to me. I cross the room to reach her, gratefully taking my mail from her. I flip the envelope over in my hands and study the handwriting, it looking vaguely familiar to me for a moment. I go back over to my side of the room and begin to rip the side of the envelope open, prying the letter out.

        It takes me a moment to understand the words scribbled furiously across the page, but the panic in my chest that sets in is immediate. I suddenly don't want to sit any longer because my nerves are dodging around in my body to the point that I want to reach under my skin and pry my parents and their tyranny from my blood for good.

Jamilla
Do you have any idea how stupid you are? Do you have any idea how ungrateful you're being? We fed and clothed and raised you to be an adult, not a child! We let you have an education, we gave you everything you could ever want, and this is how you repay us? Three months, Jamilla. You leave home without our permission for THREE. MONTHS.
You could have been raped, or murdered, or worse-- and we feared for you until we found those GODDAMN acceptance letters under your bed.
You are coming home. When this semester is over, we're picking you up ourselves and you'll be LUCKY if you even go back to college after this stunt...

I stop reading because I can't breathe when I realize that it's my mother's handwriting, and fuck was I an idiot to think that my own parents wouldn't figure out where I was. I want to scream, I want to cry, I want to lash out because I screwed up and they know exactly where I am. No fresh start, no rebirth-- I'm going to have to go back to them and I'm not ready to face that. Not after what I've done-- I can never face that.

This is the catch. This is the catch of meeting Josh and Becca and Scarlet and Tara and Tyler and Garrett-- God, there's always a fucking catch! I was dumb and naïve to think that I could escape this catch, to think that I could take a raincheck on it.

They were always the catch.