CHAPTER TEN, The Girl Who Read [And The Boy Who Kissed Her]: where it all comes to an end

        ❝I love you, and I will love you until I die, and if there’s a life after that, I’ll love you then.❞

                       ― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

[Guys look at the freaking amazing trailer on the side.  Right now.]

        They didn't talk in person for a few days. There were a couple texts flown here and their, with numerous pick-up lines and multiple puns, but that was it.

        Spencer had been wondering what to do for their next romantic expirience, until inspiration struck. Quite literally, as his sister bumped into him, nearly knocking him off his feet, yelling, "You've got to drive me to the sleepover at Anna's!"

        So while he sat in his truck, making sure his sister was fine as she trudged up the steps with her sleeping bag, he came up with an idea for the night.

        Grace's words echoed in his head. It'll all work out eventually.

        He planned to make 'eventually' come a lot sooner.

        She came over with a bag slung over her shoulder which Spencer soon found out was filled with 'girl supplies', pajamas, and movies. His parents were on a date night, so they had the house to themselves.

        He coughed a couple times, his adam's apple bobbing up and down, and cleared his throat. "Erm, come in."

        She dropped her bag on the couch in the living room and followed him into the kitchen where the Domino's pizza sat waiting for them. They dug in and began arguing over which movie to watch.

        "Pitch Perfect!" She argued.

        "The Avengers!" He said firmly.

        She tilted her head as she looked at him with rapt attention, her eyes round and her her lips in a small frown. "Please?"

        He gave in. "Fine."

        Maybe it wasn't much of an argument after all.

        Ten minutes later, the pizza finished, he popped in Pitch Perfect while she changed into her pajamas in the bathroom down the hall.

        He hummed Blank Space as he popped some popcorn for the movies.

        She came out of the bathroom wearing a tight, black crop top with the words 'I Ship It' across the chest, and loose, checkered sweatpants.

        He looked her up and down, feeling his face grow hot. "You're really adorable, you know that, right?"

        She began to put her old clothes in the bag on the couch and blushed. "You say adorable more than any other guy I've ever known," She mumbled.

        "Only when I'm talking to you."

        She laughed a little and shook her head, glancing at him. "You sure know how to make a girl feel special."

        The movie began as they dimmed the lights. They sat down on opposite ends of the couch, three cushions away. So close, yet so far.

        He got up to go to the bathroom and say back down so that they were only two cushions between them.

        She scooted a little closer, claiming she 'couldn't reach the popcorn'.

        One cushion.

        As she watched the movie, grinning wildly, he shuffled, inch by inch, closer to her.

        No cushions.

        "I've been shot! I've just been shot!" Fat Amy cried out.

        He faked a yawn, raised a hand to his mouth, then stretched his arm around her shoulders.

        So smooth, his conscious muttered sarcastically.

        At one point, her head fell onto his shoulder and they cuddled closer in the dimly lit living room. His body sizzled and zapped with electricity from her touch.

        There was a funny quote said in the movie, and she threw her head back and laughed, setting his bones on fire.

        The laugh was beautiful. She was beautiful. He closed his eyes and took a big breath. Gulping, he exhaled. "I love you."

        Her head froze in mid laugh, her smile crumbling and her arms dropping to her side. He quickly fumble for the remote, pausing the movie.

        Her head tilted to face him as she blinked. "This is for the book, right?" She let out a loose laugh, grinning slightly. "Sorry, I'll play along. I love you, too."

        He couldn't have even imagined what those words looked like on her lips. When she said them, the breath whooshed out of him, even though she didn't actually mean it.

        "No, Skylar-"

        "Don't," She shakily heaved a breath. "Don't say it. You don't mean it, Spencer."

        "Skylar, listen," He pleaded, placing the pad of his forefinger under her chin, his touch like a soft feather, lifting it so her baby blue eyes met his. Her eyes were watery as she constantly blinked, her eyes showing fear. He hated it.

        "I-I've loved you... I've been in love with you, for five-no, six years. I've held it that long, and I can't keep it bottled in anymore. Ever since I saw you walking home from school one day, with a braid in your hair as you hopped in every puddle in sight, you intrigued me. I followed you into the tiny bookstore with the sound of the rain pellets hitting the windows. And when you read, you took my breath away. Skylar Elliot Jackson, ever since that moment, my heart's belonged to you."

        "Spencer, stop-"

        "I've watched you, you know," His voice grew louder, his body drawing closer to hers, his finger tilting her chin more upwards. "Everyday. I've watched you pick up a book and cry with your body wracking with tears, or I'd see you laugh, making my heart stop. You don't know what you do to me, Skylar. You don't know how much I fucking love you."

        His tears were salty on his lips, and they kept flowing down his cheeks and dropping like raindrops to the floor.

        Her bottom lip trembled and quivered as she shakily raised a hand to wipe away her own tears. He hated that he made her cry. She pushed his finger away from her chin. "I-I can't-"

        She ran. Out of the door to his house, into where rain sprinkled down just like the fateful day six years ago. She was running blindly into the storm, because the sun gone and darkness replaced it. He had a sudden flashback to the day of their first kiss, when he was reading her romance writing.

        "I know what love feels like. If these characters were truly madly in love, they wouldn't let the other leave, it'd be like having your other half ripped away from you. They would trust one another, because that person would be your everything. She wouldn't be crying, she would be running after her loved one."

        He's such a hypocrite. He couldn't let her run away from him. He wouldn't let her run away from him. He grabbed the keys to his truck and sprinted into the rain.

        As he turned the key into the ignition, he realized he had no idea where he was going.

        Her car had disappeared from his driveway. She could be anywhere.

        Where would Skylar go?

        There were so many places. He was so aggravated at himself for letting her run like that. She could be in danger, damn it!

        Sitting in the driver seat in his truck, his body shook with silent, frustrated tears and he slammed a fist into on of the truck's glove compartments.

        He crossed his arms on the steering wheel and laid his head down as his mind whirred with useless ideas and nonsense.

        As he glanced to the right, he realized that the glove compartment had flown open when he punched it, and something he did not expect to be in their was lying on top of all his junk. His fingers shakily took out the cork from the bottle that he had assumed was in the ocean by now, and took out the letter. Familiar curly writing was scrawled across the paper.

        Dear Spencer,

        You're probably wondering why this isn't in the ocean. You're probably thinking, 'God damnit, Skylar!' and running a hand through your coffee brown hair. And you're probably wondering how this got into your truck.

        Well, while you were sleeping, I slipped it in here.

        (you keep your car unlocked, you idiot; lock your car, you're going to get robbed some day)

        You said I might have a 'fate' with whoever gets this letter, and I really hope I do.

        Spencer, you probably already know this, but I'll tell you anyways.

        When I first saw you I knew you as the boy that watched me read in my Mom's bookstore every day. You kind of freaked me out at first, to be honest, but you grew on me. You weren't very subtle, by the way. You'd always pretend to be reading something stupid like an encyclopedia, or the book would be upside down in your hands

        I found myself fascinated by you, the boy that watched me read, and kind of began stalking you. I asked around school for a 'Spencer Lawerence' (because I had learned your name from a tag on your backpack) and gathered all the information I could. So we're both creepy stalkers.

        I would rush home from school to the bookstore, the one place I feel a real connection to, to the one person I felt a real connection to.

        Having this feeling about you scared the shit out of me. You were practically a stranger! What if you didn't feel the same way? What if you were a snob, or a jerk? Or both?

        But soon, as we began our 'adventures for romance', I realized that:

        A.) You (I think) like me, and
        B.) You were neither.

        You were actually the complete opposite of both.

        I also realized that I was terrified about letting someone else in. I've never been a girl with many friends. The only actual friends I have are my siblings, my parents, and books. Kind of sad, really.

        But, Spencer, I'll tell you this: I like you. Quite a lot. You have to be the cheesiest, hottest, and sweetest guy out there. But if I'm wrong about you feeling the same way I do, then I hope, if you're ever with anyone else, you're happy. Then I'll be happy, too.

        Thank you, Spencer, for teaching me that sometimes love is already there. You just have to dig a little deeper to find it.

        Love,
Skylar Elliot Jackson.

        He couldn't breathe. He saw the time ticking away on the digital clock, but his mind just blanked from the letter and he couldn't move, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe.

        She had ran. Now he knew why, but not to where.

        Until...

        'I would rush home from school to the bookstore, the one place I feel a real connection to..'

        He stepped on the gas pedal and combed a hand through his hair. "Damn it, Skylar."

        He opened the door and heard the light tinkling of the bell. She was curled up in the corner of the teen fiction section, frowning as she read Looking for Alaska. He quietly watched her from around the corner, peering at her from an empty space between two books.

        I know you love me, he wanted to shout out.

        He leaned closer into the bookcase, seeing tears slide down the crook of her nose and over her cheekbones. His heart tore at the sight of her.

        You love me. You love me.

        He tilted further into the bookcase.

        'But, Spencer, I'll tell you this: I like you.'

        Her tears plopped onto the pages, running off of the paper and onto her lap. She closed the book and wrapped her arms around her legs, tucking her chin in between her knees, and sobbed.

        'Quite a lot.'

        The bookcase fell with a crash because of the force he put on it by leaning so much. He was sprawled out on top of the bookcase, feeling the ridges of the bindings of books, and the wooden shelves.

        "Ow..." He groaned, rolling onto his back, holding onto his shoulder.

        "Oh my God... Spencer?" Her voice rang in his ears.

        She came into his line of sight and kneeled beside him. "You came after me?" Her hand traveled down his cheek, and he leaned into it, closing his eyes.

        "I couldn't let you get away," He groaned, his shoulder feeling achey.

        Her hands cupped around his cheeks. She swung her right knee over his body so her knees were on either side of his hips. He felt her hot breath fanning his face.

        "You're hurt," She mumbled, touching his shoulder. He hissed in pain.

        "I'm fine."

        "You are not!" She said, incredulous. "It might be dislocated, I need to get you to the hosp-"

        "Skylar, I'm fine, I swear."

        She sighed and rolled her eyes, stroking his cheek with the back of her palm.

        "You ran into the rain. In your pajamas," He stated in disbelief.

        "I was terrified, Spencer."

        "And you terrified me by doing that."

        The silence was not unbearable. It was a comfortable silence, where it probably should have been awkward, her practically sprawled all over him, and her knee very close to a certain private part.

        "You like me," His voice was hushed and his eyes were on hers.

        She bit her lip and looked right back at him. "You read the letter?"

        "You do, then!" He exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. He used his good arm to pull her into a hug, so she was lying on top of him, completely sprawled out. She started to hug back, but she pulled away.

        "Spencer..."

        "Where does this leave us, Skylar?"

        She sighed and leaned up, him doing the same, her now sitting on his lap. As she turned to get up, he wrapped his free and unharmed arm around her waist. He furrowed his eyebrows. "What was that sigh for?"

        She cupped one cheek, softly stroking it with her thumb. "Spencer, college is next for me. We'd be in two different places, and you know long distant relationships never work."

        Her words shredded his heart. "We c-can try, Skylar. We can try it, I love you so much, we need to-"

        "Spencer, we can't. Every long distant relationship ends in fights, and school will stress me out enough. Maybe in another world, in another time, we'd be together." She gulped and blinked, her eyes burning with unshed tears. "We might be able to stay it touch, but Spencer, how would that work?"

        "I can't... Skylar, you just told me you liked me. I can't just leave," He said helplessly, letting her stand up. As she started picking up the fallen books, he bit his tongue, forcing the tears not to come out.

        She wiped a tear away with the back of her palm as she stacked the books. Spencer got up and walked over to her. "I'll help-"

        "No, Spencer," She answered, her lip trembling and her voice wavering, not once raising her head to look at him. "Just go."

        The rain had picked up. The raindrops made a mad dash down the windows of the bookstore. He heard the scuffle of her picking up the multitude of stories off of the floor.

        He couldn't believe this was it. He had done everything in his power to make her his, for her to fall in love with him. And now that that happened, they can't be together.

        But sometimes, Spencer realized as he reached the doorknob, love is not enough.

        He glanced at her one last time, and saw her blonde hair bouncing against her back as she walked across the bookstore. He wouldn't see her again. He wouldn't be able to talk to her, hug her, kiss her, she was leaving him.

        He left the bookstore.

        The rain splashed against his face as if washing away the past, and starting fresh. Maybe the rain was telling him to move on.

        Or maybe the rain just feels like soaking you to add to your shitty mood.

        He had his hand on the door to his truck when the first tear fell. He didn't care. He didn't care that he was practically a grown man crying. He was done.

        He slid into the car and turned the key.

        But then, when straining his ears, he heard a door slam in the distance.

        His head swiveled to where he saw the love of his life running towards him, the rain soaking her once again.

        He stared in disbelief and threw open the car door, quickly unbuckling and sprinted out. She ran into his opened arms and he felt her hot tears mixed with the ice cold rain on his chest. Sobs wracked her body and his tears dropped onto the top of her head as he kissed it. His arm was burning in pain, but he could care less.

        She squeezed him around the torso and whispered in his ear, "I can't let you get away. God, I love you too much. I don't know what I was thinking, Spencer. I don't care where we end up, I just want you."

        With them standing in the middle of the road, the rain poured and pattered onto the road. Their tears eventually mixed in with the rain and were long forgotten.

        Standing in the downpour of rain, (something that, for some reason, is very cliché), he held both her cheeks in the palms of his hands as she snaked her arms behind his neck, her fingers curling into his drenched brown hair.

        And he sealed her response with a heart-exploding, mind-numbing kiss.

a/n

thank you so much to @emxlydxwd for the FLIPPING AMAZING TRAILER! Trailer's on the side!!! Go check it out, if you haven't already! I changed Dylan O'Brien the bae to Sam Claflin (my biggest bae). I'm sorry, but I have to. I have an unhealthy obsession with him. Mockingjay just increased my obsession. I should see a therapist tbh.

But this is the last chapter.

This story is over. Done with. Finished.

......except for the epilogue. I might take questions about writing this, things like how i thought up the idea, etc. I might do one shots. Not positive, though. I'm also working on something special.....

I will also have a one shot competition if enough people enter......? Would anyone be up for that?

the epilogue will be coming up soon!

Comment if you liked the chapter, vote if you loved it, and please share!

I'll have my giant rant at the end of the next chapter, along with one shot competition and a spot where you can ask questions to me! Sorry for the long wait for an update, mockingjay feels and then Christmas, and multiple new books, and just procrastination. *whispers* tummmmbllrrrr