jeal·ous·y

noun

1. mental unesiness from suspicion of fear of rivalry.

"Jealousy swarmed through him as he saw the love of his life being taken away from him and at that moment, all he saw was red."

Synonym: Bitter resentment

________________________________________________________________

How had he found her?

She quickly sent his a quick nod of acknoladgment before turning in her heels to leave.

Was he stalking her?

"Baby orange!" His voice was filled with excitement which made her heart jump in her chest. She turned back towards Jace. "What are you doing here?" She asks him.

"Visiting a friend." He's grinning at her so much that Clementine felt his lips would tear if he tried to smile any brighter. She recognized the impatient drumming as he tapped his forefinger against his leg. Her mind instantly braced herself to run.

"What are you doing here?" He asks her, his eyes trailing slightly to the opened box in the palm of her hands. "Like you don't know." She wanted to mumble.

"Nothing."

He tilted his head to the side slightly.

"I've got to go." She pushes past him. For some odd conspicuous reason, she assumed he would follow, making her take the long route home.

The small picture still in the palm of her hand.

____

Since then two long days have sulked past her harmlessly. The weather grew hotter and the nights were cut shorter. Clementine took in the view of the opposing street in front of her.

 The way people moved fascinated her. From place to place as if they actually have some importance in where they were going. 

It fascinated her that people could be so caught up in their own lives that they wouldn't regonize the school girl on the sidewalk, her black backpack on her shoulders and her feet dragging across the sidewalk. 

She wondered if they peeked out their windows and wondered about where the random stranger was heading to. Wondering how the stranger lives, just like Clementine does. 

She makes her way to the gates of the school and watches as others clump together in groups of friends, suffocating the campus with their random words jabbing in the air. 

Girls seemed to slowly be adapting to the fashion sense Shoreline High boys had grown up with since they two have begun wearing shorts and tanktops. Luckliy to be privilaged with the fact that the school had a lack of a proper dress code policy besudes the no "sphaghetti straps" or the undergarments must be covered rules. 

Just think about it, this girl could be wearing the tightest and smallest pair of white ripped shorts known to man but as long as a strand of her "Hushed Secret" underwear are not on an unpleasent show, it's all swell. Clementine manuvers her way through the courtyard, her main priority was set too hetting to her first period in time. 

As soon as she stepped into the building, Clementine took notice to how the school was more air conditioned and chiled. It made her curious why so many of her peers were outside, yet again she subtly came to the conclusion that people liked having an excuse not to be in the school..at all times. 

The lockers decorated the walls, chipped and dulling. Wooden doors were propped open by rubber doorsteps. Clem entered the classroom to her left, limited sunlight enters the entire room by the blinded windows. 

Science. 

The science lab looked eactly like history class. Long divided ables made of marble and stools with bolts in their seats. Ms.Tucker wasn't in the classroom, she never usually is until exactly three minutes before the school bell rung. 

Her backpack fell down with a loud thud and she grabbed a number two pencil from the front pouch. SHe pullls out her journal and begins to take notes from the board. To get a head start. The lead from her mechanical pencil chipped against the notebook paper as she continued to write about the respitory system versus the skeletal system. 

Then her mind wanders. She begins to sketch out a small flower at the margin of her paper. Her mind slowly began to drift from the current project she was working on. She slid her arm against the table as she realized she was getting distracted. 

"Clementine."

Clem looks up, her eyes meet Ms.Tuckers and she gives a curt nod of recgoniztion. A form of appriciating ones existance. From her white dress shirt to her straightened blonde hair, Ms.Tucker was an admirable human. She was relaxed but if she neded the attention of the class, all she needed to do was call for their attention once. She could be sweet, she could be strict. 

It was truely amazing. 

Ms.Tucker then proceeds to sit down at her desk and turns on her computer, the worn down machine chines a echoing 'ping' as it starts up. 

Just as Ms.Ticker was about to call up Clementine,  dusty blonde entered the classroom. 

Randy?

He sends a nervous smile towards Ms.Tucker before looking at Clem. He seems hesitant at first but continues to make his way towards his desk. His feet sliding against the cold surface we as humans like to call the floor. Ms. Tucker begins to type on her laptop. The bell begins to ring.

 A chime schos throught the school and the halls flood with students. Teenager after teenager enters the classroom as time passes by.

 Then she feels something gently tap against her back, almost as if something was being thrown at her. She turns her back just as Randy was about to throw another pencil at her. He sees her give him a suspicious look and waves with a grin.

 Is he trying to communicate in some foreign way? Without a doubt in mind, Clementine looks foreward once more. She could just imagine the frown on his face. 

Another student sits down next to Clementine, she has brown hair cut short to frame her face perfectly. She owned a pair of beautiful red lips and glossy pink cheeks that looked far from natural. 

Her name is Anna. 

Anna likes to take extra tissues and rip then up under her desk. Sometimes she kisses blank pieces of binder paper when nobody is looking. 

Well, when she thinks nobody is looking and to be honest, it's quite unsanitary if you think about it. Think about all the trees wasted just to be kissed by a school gossip. Don't get her wrong, Clementine is no 'green girl' who's life revolves round raising awarness of global warming and waving signs to protet the earth, although that doesn't mean she is an anti-'save the plant by recyling'. 

She is just a girl who both cares about global warming and is afraid the earth will warm up, killing her, but she is also the girl who will make no extreme action to stop the earth from potentially dying along with every specimen on it. 

Like any other normal being in the world. 

Anna suddenly looks at Clementine annoyed, making Clem wonder what she had done. "That boy over there is throwing pencils at me, trying to gain your attention." She snarles, agitated. Clementine looks back to se see that indeed, Randy was again throwing pencils. Just at another target. She sends him a stern glare almost as if that single look would stop him. He throws a pencil at her backpack, purposly aiming lower so he woudn't hit her. 

She looks down at the pencil to realize a small note attached to it with a red rubber band. She grabs the pencil curiously and unhooks the rubber band from the paper and pencil combination.  She slings the rubber band onto her arm. It bites into her skin. The material pinching at her flesh constantly. 

She unrolls the paper. On the creme colored notebook paper it reads, 

"Hi."

With a sigh, she rolls up the paper and gently places it onto her desk. Waving at Randy before turning once more. 

She keeps the pencil, an odd throught strikes her mind. She forgets Randy for a split second, but that doesn't stop her from throwing a pencil back over her shoulder. Afterwards another one hits her. 

Then another, 

and another after that. 

Throughout the class period, Clementine is assaulted with pencils as she wonderes how nobody taking recognition to the dusty blonde throwing a continuous amount of pencils at her back. Then again, nobody ever really realized her. This is the reason why she didn't yell at Randy. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. She prefered to stay away from the hungry eyes of her peers. 

Class ends. 

She gets up, angry and flustered. As she makes her way to the door, she bumps into Randy. "You have anything yo say to me?" He asks her with his lips slightly tilted upward. She felt herself bubbling inside. 

"Whats with you and your pencil throwing...desire? What have I done to deserve your harassment?" she grumbles. 

He chuckles slightly before replying with a develish grin, "I've been working on my pencil throwing skills for a while. Not many people know this but I'm trying to get into the pencil throwing business."

"Pencil throwing buisness?" This catches Clementine by suprise. Not the fact that Randy was claiming to be  pencil throwing 'enthusist', but that she had actually felt herself wanting to conversate with him more. 

"Well you see, my great grandfather used to love throwing pencils into a river. Then he made a pencil throwing business, long story short, I come from a long line of expert pencil throwers." He tells her in a sudden choppy 'italian' accent. "Your accent is offensive to every italian being in the world." She grimaces. 

He squints a bit and smiles with his lips pursed. "A bit over exagerated my dear Clementine, don't you think. I would say my italian accent is offensive to every italian in Italy." he tells her with a matter of factly town. 

She finds heself smiling at hs remark. She stops herself from smiling any futher, realizing her mistake. His eyes glow. "Was that a smile I saw?" he coos at her as if she were merly a child. He's about to tease her again but he stops abruptly. 

"I should really get going." he says suddenly, eyes darting past her. His glare, sharp as daggers were directed to someone behind Clementine. 

He turns to leave before Clementine can utter a word in responce. Annoyed, she turns the opposite direction to head to her next class. She bumps into a wall. No, a human. 

More like a Jace. 

An angry Jace. 

♡Chapter End♡

A/N: Editing takes way too long for me...

☆"A mistake repeated more than once is a decision."- Paulo Coelho☆