Jacklynne

I ignore the pain in my abdomen and squint at the bright light on my phone, reading the message from Zeth who's number I got that day in the basketball cage. 

'I'm doing a photography project, wanna come help?'

'Sure,' I answer before slamming the front of my phone down on the bedside desk. I immediately regret it when I hear a slight crack. Groaning, I press the hot water bottle down on my stomach as I attempt to lift myself up only to fail and drop back onto the bed when laziness takes control. 

"Ugh!" I exclaim, then remember that mum is sleeping off her night-shift in the next room. I take a deep breath and roll out of bed onto the floor so that I can crawl to the bathroom. 

-

"Is this a sudden interest in photography or what?" I ask as Zeth gets the camera ready-well attempting to. Focusing, he doesn't answer and continues to look like he barely knows what he's doing with it. I stare at the black spirals of his hair which hang like curly threads on his forehead. His afro hair is pulled up in a high top ponytail. Orabelle is black, why doesn't she keep her natural hair on like this? I make a note in my head to ask her. 

"So, um, why did you ask me to come help?"

He responds without looking up, still struggling with the camera. "You and your friends seemed like an eclectic group. I decided maybe you would understand what I'm trying to do. Well no, create." 

"And what are you trying-" I am interrupted by the groan of Zeth and watch as he leaves the camera on the couch whiles standing up.

"I give up. We can just use my phone. And the answer to that question you were about to finish is chaos! I'm trying to create something chaotic, different." 

"Well that's cool, and when you get your phone, you can research how to use a camera- okay then," I mumble the last part because he is already walking out of the room.

I get up from the cushioning chair I was sitting on to follow him. This is what avoiding homework does. I'm hanging out with a person seemingly with cotton in his ears.

I take a stretch whiles studying Zeth's home which I was barely able to look at as I was occupied trying several times to help Zeth with the camera. I squint even though I'm wearing my glasses to see a photo clearly. It shows a white woman cradling a baby of darker skin.

I'm guessing the baby is Zeth. Interesting. I turn around to study other pictures but end up with a fist full of powder being thrown at my face. With closed eyes, I rub the powder off of my eyelids and huff at the white flecks on the end of my eyelashes. 

"Yes! Now we're getting somewhere," Zeth celebrates. 

I narrow my eyes at him, some flecks falling of the tips of my eyelashes as I do so. "I'm gonna take you somewhere," I mutter as a threat.

"What was that?" He asks whiles tapping away at his phone. I have no doubt this is his attitude at school too. I can just imagine Zeth's earphones in whiles others are talking to him and he probably doesn't look up once.

"I just gave you a murder threat!"

"That's great! You're getting into character."

"What charact-"

"Cm'on." He starts walking towards the room he went in before, tucking his phone into his back pocket. I blink a few times thinking if I should just go now. But my resistance to do homework is stronger than my hatred of dismissive dicks. So I follow Zeth.

"Um should I really be here?" I question whiles looking around what I'm assuming is a bedroom- because there's a bed.

The light pink of the pillows and duvet match the split curtains which are tied at each side of the window on the right side of the room. The dramatic, flamboyant African floral prints on the walls add a creative touch even though it moderately clashes with the softness and plainness of the pink. Zeth is on the left side of the room messing about with stuff on a dressing table. He is literally making chaos on it. His knuckles are knocking over jars of makeup brushes and a stand with jewellery. 

I walk towards the dressing table quickly and try to pick up the things he's knocked down. "Zeth! You're making a mess of your mum's makeup!"

He doesn't bother to look up. "Who said it was my mum's?"

"Well then you're making a mess of your sisters makeup."

"I don't have a sister." 

"But you just said-"

"I never said it wasn't my mums, I asked who said it was. And by the way, my mum is the beautiful lady in the photo you were looking at. Plus I'm adopted."

He finally looks up and grins. His smile reaches his eyes which look even more amber now that sunlight is on him. I smile back even though I'm not the one he called beautiful, but cough when a ball of powder is thrown at my face once again. 

"You have to stop doing that!"

"Deal." With his thumb, he lifts up the lid of a lipstick and it falls onto the floor causing me to roll my eyes. 

"There you go making a mess again."

Zeth, continuing his habit of ignoring me, moves his finger under my chin to raise my head up since he's taller. I mainly stare at his eyes, completely mesmerized by their uniqueness whiles he paints my lips messily with the lipstick; it feels gunky. But I back away when I feel him move it across my cheek.

"That's not how lipstick works!"

"Exactly. Chaos," he simply says which irritates me more. Zeth steps back and bounces onto the bed. I get uncomfortable when he looks at my face. For a long time.

"Nope. You still look cute."

He gets up and walks past me. I think it's a bit too casual for someone who just called another person 'cute'.

"You think I'm cute?" Instead of blushing, a corner of my mouth tugs up.

"Mm hm," comes the reply loud enough for me to hear even though Zeth is now in another room near the door which is probably a closet.

"I thought you would prefer Orabelle or something."

He comes out of the closet holding a bright green wig in his hands. His left eyebrow raises as he walks forward.

"Why, because we're both black?"

Maybe that is how I was thinking about it, unconsciously. "Um, I, um-"

Zeth winks and a warm laugh comes out of him. "Stop. You're not a stutterer."

I sit down at the dressing table as he places the wig on my head and carefully adjusts it. His fingers brush my cheek as he gently tucks in loose strands.

I stare at my reflection in shock. The green hair, really white skin, blood red lipstick; the familiarity picks up my heart rate. All I'm missing is the scars, ageing, the gender difference, and those horrible charcoal rings. But somehow, I still look so much like him. Too much like him.

"You okay?" Zeth asks. I nod in response, afraid my voice will show my fright. Because then Zeth will ask questions, because humans love to ask questions. And they almost always get answers: information. I don't want others to know information about me. Because they can use it against me, and hurt me, and I might do something that makes them think I'm a freak.

"Then how come your face has managed to turn paler even with the powder on?" Zeth grills. My eyes leave the mirror and I change my expression to be as convincing as I can. 

"Yeah." I manage to croak out. Zeth looks at the mirror to see my eyes. His gaze is severe like he's interrogating me through it. I stare right back. 

The stare down lasts for a certain measure of time before Zeth says, "Okay." A barely audible sigh of relief escapes my lips and I pull off the wig and shake out my loose waves. 

Zeth takes the wig, cocks his head to the open door and shrugs. "Another time."

I smile gratefully whiles standing up and leave the bedroom, and Zeth's house: the place with the green wig, the blood red lipstick and that damn powder with an extra addition of a weird, but cute boy.

After walking for long, I get nearer and nearer to the door of my house until I stop when I hear a scream. My neighbour Mrs Jensen is clutching her chest and her eyes are widened in horror.  She begins to laugh when I turn to her. "Oh sorry dear. Jacklynne right? Your...face...painting just scared me for a second. Anyway, bye dear." she says and walks on. As she does I hear her mumbling about 'teenage girls and their makeup these days'.

I proceed to my doorstep and unlock the door, walking into darkness. As soon as I'm inside, I quickly switch on the dining room lights and lock the door behind me. I decide to try and forget what happened back at Zeth's place by making something for my mum when she wakes up- if she hasn't already. She would be grateful but quite worried if I've made a mess in the kitchen. At sixteen years old, I'm about average at cooking or baking but I like to be...spontaneous. Whenever I tell that to her she says I'm using it as an excuse to get messy. It may or may not be true.

The bright green apple in the fruit bowl inspires me to make an apple crumble pie. It would be a nice treat after working so hard late at night in the hospital. I get my utensils and ingredients ready beforehand. I'm about to cut the apple when I feel that it's too quiet. I twist half of my body around to get my phone from the back pocket of my jeans to play some music. As I raise it up, a visceral sensation of fear suddenly takes over me when I see a pale green strand of hair on the screen. I drop my phone. A quickening in my chest and the suspicious silence enhances the uneasiness in the air.

"You look nervous." a voice says. I whip my head around to meet a face transported from my nightmares. In this moment I don't care what I have to do. It is paramount that I get out of this situation which is why I reach for the knife. 

But he grabs it first. He raises it to my lips vertically, giving me a warning look and placing his finger to his mouth. 

"Now shush." He jumps onto the kitchen counter making himself comfortable. I raise my hands in surrender not knowing what else to do.

My voice comes out shaky as I speak, "I don't know you, you don't know me. If you get out now, I won't tell any-" He interrupts me with a snort and tilts his head to the side grinning.

"Are you sweet talking' me? All'a that chitchat's gonna get ya hurt."

"Are you going to kill me?" I honestly just want to get to the point and get my death over quickly. Chitchat might get me hurt but extend time. If he's going to kill me, I'd rather he does it before mum comes downstairs and see's her daughter being killed by... whatever clown this is. She'll miss me, but now she doesn't have to share the food in the house or my dinner money for school. Now she can have enough money to go on holiday by herself, maybe invite her friends and I won't be there to embarrass her with my awkward socialising. 

"What? Oh no I'm not gonna kill ya. I'm just gonna hurt ya...really really bad." I nod and close my eyes getting ready for the pain. If I prepare, maybe there'll be less pain. I don't feel the coldness of the knife on my lips anymore.

There's a long pause and then he laughs. Its the same laugh I heard in my nightmares. A laugh similar... to mine which is why I make sure to always just giggle or chuckle. 

I open my eyes to turn around to check the stairway. Whilst I'm panicking that mum will be coming downstairs soon, the...clown casually takes a bite of the green apple. He munches on the piece in his mouth for a long time before speaking. "Is it the scars?"

"No. It's not your scars." I reply, my voice clear and bold because I'm annoyed and my arms are hurting since they are still up.

"Wanna know I got th-" This time I interrupt him.

"No. I don't care about you at all. So listen clown, if you're going to kill or hurt me stop taking your damn time and just do it!" He narrows his eyes at me and throws the apple away even though he hasn't finished eating it. He hops of the counter and stares down at me. His lips keep raising like he's about to smile but then fall into the neutral position.

"I am not a clown." He says slowly. "I'm the Joker."

I finally drop my hands and place them on my hips. "And am I supposed to care?"

He licks his lips and takes out something from his scruffy blazer.

"Why don't you give me a call when you want to start taking things a little more seriously?" He shows me a joker card and places it onto the counter slowly. My focus is on his movement entirely in case he tries anything like, well, killing me. 

So my heart skips a beat when a soft voice says my name. I spin around and see my mum at the bottom of the staircase in her pyjamas and a toothbrush in her mouth. I understand what she's saying even though she brushes her teeth whiles talking to me, "Lynne sweetie, what are you doing?" She leans her head forward to see and her eyes widen, her expression horrified.

I turn around to see that the Joker is actually gone. So all she can see is the flour and baking utensils and probably why I hear footsteps running up the stairs rapidly so she can come down again after finishing her tooth-brushing and tell me not to burn the kitchen.

****

Thank you for reading up to this part. Please share this story with your friends because I am determined to make this book a success so I humbly admit that this cannot happen without you.

I know that things are going slow so far, but this book is going places and you'll be on the journey with it.

What do you think of Jacklynne so far?

Do you guys have any ships yet?

Thanks again, CornettoBook