^ READY FOR THE TRAILER? HERES A CLIP OF IT THAT IS READY FOR YOU ^

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H o l l o w s I n
T I M E
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Jameson couldn't have saved me even if he wanted to. His information was all wrong. Somehow, Jameson had acquired faulty data, and, for that reason, I was far out of his reach. So far that I couldn't be saved.

Jameson's eyes seemed to send a message to mine. Are you sure? They seemed to ask. I stared back. And Jameson took three more steps closer. We were about ten inches apart. I inhaled, exhaled, and then faced the map.

I placed the red pin about half a centimetre away from my house. And then I pulled out all the other red pins, and created a circle around my house, layering the circling up five times thick, until the red reached the edge of town. I frowned. Jameson's map didn't go any farther.

"Do you have the other half?" I asked him, turning to see his body right next to mine. My breath got caught. Jameson noticed this.

"Sorry." He said, stepping back. Then frowned up at the map. He scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, if I can remember correctly." His eyes travelled over to his cupboard and he walked over to it, getting down onto his knees to push his hand underneath it. He pulled out an A3 sheet.

He showed it to me when he reached me. And there it was. The place where my life fell apart.

"Tack it on." I ordered to him as I collected more red pins. When I turned around, Jameson had carefully aligned the maps so that I could carry on my pin-marathon.

There was a lot of space between the red pins around my house and the pin I stuck about ten centimetres to the left. The first place I remember being. Jameson watched as I took another red pin from my palm and stuck it to another place, about fifteen centimetres diagonally upwards from my last pin, on the edge of another surrounding town.

I picked up another pin and placed it about five centimetres down from that pin. I tried to ignore the memories that stabbed at my palms as I did so, then I realised that some of the pins had actually dug into my flesh as I clenched my fist. I unclenched it and tried to hide the wounds from Jameson.

And then I was stuck. I gnawed on my lip, turning to face Jameson.

"Where did you find me?" I asked him. Jameson's eyes met mine and the hesitation was crystal clear. I watched in his eyes, seeming to be imagining all the images he would've seen that night, just flashing in his sapphire eyes like a malicious mirage.

"Sky, are you sure?" He asked, the uncertainty perfectly evident on his face.

I nodded. "There isn't anything you can't tell me that I won't already know, except for this, but I need you to tell me." My voice seemed strain, as if I was about to get down on my knees and beg. But I didn't need to. His resolve crumpled and he sighed, shoving a hand in his jean pocket. He pulled out a note.

"Here are all the details." He handed it to me reluctantly, eyes watching me closely as I took it into my hand. I moved so that I could place the pins on the table next to Jameson's door. It was then that Jameson saw the cuts on my hand. He did a double-take and swore.

"Even tacks are a weapon when it comes to you." It sounded like it was supposed to be a joke, but it didn't really come out as one as he picked up my hand and carefully examined the wounds. I didn't even realise that he was touching me until something went pang in my stomach. I tried to fight it off, but I couldn't. It didn't matter who had the blame for what happened to me, it was too close.

And, so, ever-so-suddenly, I ripped my hand from out of his grasp. I stared at my hand, looking at all the blood spots. I looked up. Jameson looked detached for half a second, then stepped back and nodded, head downwards.

He raised it slightly, but I couldn't see his facial expression. "You should just rinse it, then make sure to stop the bleeding." He advised but I shook my head.

"It's just a scratch," I told him, brushing it off. "I want to do this." I gestured to the map.

Jameson rose his head and frowned. "It's not just a scratch." He objected but I had long given up on our argument. I peered down at the note he had given me and froze. It couldn't be. It was right next to the Guardian base that I had found last year. Practically on its doorstep.

Jameson had one thing right with the stream of green pins on the edge of town, yet he hadn't known where I was—how close I was to him. It just proved how easily it was for us to be torn apart, and not realise how close we really are. We were in two very different places, but only about a mile and a half separated us.

I pushed the red pin into the place onto the map and heard a sharp intake of breath from Jameson. I ignored him, outstretching my arm and raising my finger to the red pins—the places that I had been.

"I've done a full circle." I whispered to myself, tracing my index finger around the pins. What was weird was that the Guardians were all in the wrong places, all streaming diagonally down the wrong side, or, more importantly, there were too little of them protecting me in my area.

I peered at the green pins bunched together in the town square and took out all but two of them. I knew two people that were in my town. Only two. The Guardian who had led me to the Guardian base, where Jameson had been at the time, and Kate. The sheet of Guardians Kate had given me never proved useful.

I turned to see Jameson frowning. "That can't be right." He murmured to himself, staring at the two green pins left, then his eyes flickered to the red around my house, then to the circle of red on the edge of town, then to the Guardian bases, then back to the two green pins.

Then he swung his fist out and hit the wall. His knuckles cracked against the bricks and I jumped. But he didn't flinch. He just hit the wall with his other hand, before collapsing into it, holding his body up with only his shoulder.

I stood frozen in my spot, watching him inhale and exhale.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into the wall. "I'm really sorry." He repeated, voice becoming jaded by emotion.

"It's fi–"

He picked his head off the wall and lifted his gaze to meet mine. Something shone in his eyes. Tears. "I'm so sorry, Sky." He was clenching his fists, and I could sense another punch coming, so I reached out and grabbed his fists, enclosing them as much as I could in my small hands. He stared down at my hands.

I didn't talk. He didn't talk. We just stood there, hand in hand, breathing out of whack.

"How do you feel?" I asked. Jameson nodded. I took that as a good sign and let his hands fall to his side. He slumped against the wall as his hands fell, weaving the less-wounded hand through his hair.

I stood backwards, and reached out to the door, but a voice stopped me.

"Sky?" I turned around, seeing Jameson, shrouded by too much pain. I rose an eyebrow.

"Why did you come in here?" He asked.
And, just like that, a flashback hit me. Maybe this is what happens when your thoughts suddenly start organising themselves again.

"Sky?" Jameson had called out as I reached his door. I had turned around. He was sitting up on his bed. I still remember how he looked—dishevelled, tired, but, as always, concerned. For me.

"Why did you come in here?" He had asked me. I remember that it was after I had been attacked for the first time. He was worried. No, he was scared. He was scared of losing me.

"To tell you to go to sleep." I had lied, switched off the lights, and left.

But I didn't need to lie now. What I needed to tell him wasn't a bad thing, it was an extremely good thing.

I smiled. "I checked my weight." I started, wringing my hands in front of me. Jameson rose an eyebrow, seeming to gravitate towards me as he pushed himself off the wall.

"It was six stone, two pounds." I told him. A smile grew onto his lips.

"Well done." He said. He meant it. I could see the pride shining in those sapphire eyes.

Satisfied, I turned around to leave, going to close the door slightly behind me, but my hand grazed against a silk fabric. I frowned, turning around to see Jameson awkwardly shifting on his feet, looking like he was making a million decisions at once.

I took three steps backwards, and pushed the door so that I could see what I had touched.

A gasp fell from my lips.

Then everything hit me.
The last time Jameson was wholly mine, and I was wholly His.

It was my dress.
Jameson had my dress.

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aw Jameson there's no need to be embarrassed

everyone likes a bit of dress up sometimes

even Eden

who usually dresses up as herself on Halloween

OH NO

EDEN HEARS EVERYTHING
EDEN SEES EVERYTHING
EDEN KNOWS EVERYTHING

QUICK
RUN

when you realise this has been a Eden-free book so far (it's so crazy I didn't even miss her lmao)

-excuse me I heard that. I still have my gun.

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Next update: Monday
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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT SPOILER:

Sky's dress.
In Jameson's possession.

But what happens next?

Is there any way to resurrect their relationship?

Or is it too far gone?

And, of course, when reading a book based around time, you'll find mention of memories.

And sometimes, you'll find that our protagonist has a problem with them.

Even if she has to talk about them soon.

xoxo
Gossip Girl