Birds in the nearby trees chirped and a slight wind rustled over the fallen leaves as the rapid beat of my heart pounded in my ears. My gaze slid over the view as I inhaled a breath of anticipation before landing on the beam I currently held. There, etched in permanent marker, was a small heart with words written next to it: “Don’t jump. You’re worth it.”
Frowning at that, I wondered who else stood where I was standing in order to end their life. That thought saddened me and gave me a thrill. If this jump was as deadly as it seemed, I should probably take precautions.
Gripping the railing of the bridge once again before glancing below, I let out a chuckle. The message was sobering but, in my case, unneeded. I was worth it, and I wasn’t jumping to die.
The swell of the water and current below seemed to be set on a lazy course. It was dangerous if you didn't know anything about rivers. I took a survey of my options and concluded that if I were to jump too close to the river's edge, the water wouldn’t be deep enough, and if I aimed for the center of the river, I would end up struggling too much as I tried to fight my way back to the riverbank. I needed to find the happy medium between the two and gauge where I would come up and what would be there for me to grab.
The fresh, misty scent of the river filled my senses as I breathed in dampness from the air. Clinging to the metal beams, I pressed my lips together when the pain came. I was trying to rid myself of the terrible pressure that gathered in my chest. That’s why I was here. That’s why I chased after thrills. I wanted to replace that ache with an irrevocable feeling of adrenaline and freedom.
Closing my eyes, I let the wind rush through me while I took in this moment. Some people jumped to end their pain. And some leaped for the thrill. I just wanted to live again. To have that ache inside my soul become a glimpsed memory. It was the loss of my mother, the sickness that plagued me, and this horrible move across the country that my father insisted we do that caused me to be this way. To need a rush, anything that could fill the void of the never-ending ache, and I was going to get that rush - again. To feel alive.
“Hey, you!” My eyes flew open as my head jerked to the side where a guy stood. In the light, I could clearly see him.
“Damn it! Don’t jump!” he yelled as he raced to where I stood precariously on the side of the bridge. Panic registered in his eyes as I tipped forward, releasing my grip on the metal beam, grinning at him as I let gravity pull me and the thrill of the fall take over.
“Holy Shit!” he shouted and I chuckled, twisting my body around, trying to pin-point my fall area before soaring toward it. Relishing the wind in my face and the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I let out a yell of excitement because, for that brief moment, I was alive again.
I took a deep breath, holding it when my hands touched the fresh tumbling waters below, then let their murky depths swallow me whole. The sharp chill was instant, sinking into my bones as my body sizzled with excitement. I quickly adjusted from going downwards to swimming toward the surface.
Breaking through the surface of the water, I wiped the water from my eyes, grinning and kicking my hardest so that I could to stay afloat. I turned my head toward the side of the river and found savior boy at the bank, moments away from jumping in to rescue me.
My grin widened as I watched him launch his body off a boulder before cutting through the water and swimming my way with a scowl.
“Do you know how dangerous that was?! You could’ve killed yourself- again!” he yelled, his green eyes narrowed as he swam toward me.
I met him halfway with my heart still racing, a crazy grin etched on my face and dismissed his reprimand, realizing it was Jamison from last night. “That was so awesome! I think I want another go!”
“Girl, you’re crazy!”
When I was close enough, Jamison hauled me up against his chest, and I let him because he was hot, not because I couldn't get to the river bank by myself, and put my arms around his neck. He dragged us until we were hip deep in the water and standing before he ripped into me. I pulled away.
“Go again? Shit, girl! Do you have a death wish? First the party, now this? Hell!” His eyes blazed as his brows slashed downwards. “The way I see it, you’re askin’, but the big man upstairs has slapped a big fat denied on your application. So listen up.” He grabbed my shoulders, his green eyes boring into mine. “You sure as hell aren’t jumping again, but you are going to get your sweet ass out of this water and tell me what the hell your name is.”
I nodded, not put off in the slightest by his overly outrageous rant thanks to the distinct high I was currently sporting, although it never lasted long. In my excitement to jump, I didn’t realize how it would look to him. That he would think I was ending my life, while I was just trying to feel again.
“For what it’s worth, I sorry. I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I told him softly.
“Good.” He sighed, letting my shoulders go as he slid a hand through his short hair before giving me an exasperated look when I didn’t move. “Go.” He swept his hands toward the rocky riverside.
I scrunched up my nose at him, his hotness score quickly going down from a ten to a nine, and moved toward the bank as he asked. It was then that I realized he wasn’t alone.
Looking at the three other guys there who happened to be equally as impressive as Jamison, I groaned. Of course he wasn’t alone. Savior Jamison had to have three equally hot guys for friends. And judging by the red hair on Mr. Sexy-As-Hell, he was Snowden. I could see the appeal.
What a way to get cozy with the locals. Moved to Falls, Idaho and jumped off a pool house one day, then jumped off a bridge and ran into a bunch of hot guys the next.
School on Monday was now looking a whole lot more interesting than I anticipated.
I moved around the small boulder and trudged up to the guys on the bankside as I decided to go with the over-friendly and slightly annoying approach, hoping they might dismiss the earlier free-fallin’ event.
I widened my grin as I gave a friendly wave. “Hiya!”
Snowden stepped forward, his jaw clenched, smelling like fresh cut grass. “Who in the hell do you think you are? Fallon Knox, from UTimes? You’re not a damn daredevil kid! Where're your parents? Who’s in charge of you?”
Jeez, my eyes widened, Snowden was worse than Jamison. I knew I was short but not that short! Not letting his cheery disposition detour me (note the sarcasm), I shrugged and replied, “I happen to like UTimes and Fallon Knox. She’s awesome. Maleficus, not so much.” I was very familiar with the video sharing website for thrill seekers to upload their latest risks.
For a brief second, his lips tilted up before glaring at me. He thought that comment was funny too.
His friend stepped forward looking equally pissed with his coal black eyes burning into mine. Jamison came up to the bank, and I focused on that instead. That view was definitely worth all the yelling I was getting. A hard muscled chest covered in a wet black tee and khaki shorts molded to his thighs were what lust-starved nuns dreamed of; that boy was cut, mmm, nicely.
“.... not a girl. And did you even think how far down it was? And the rocks... Hey!” Fingers snapped in my face. “Jumper Girl!” That brought me out of my daze and drew my attention back to the yelling at hand from coal eyes.
I waved his snapping fingers aside. “Dude, I think we need first names before you yell at me.”
Then I glanced past to the third guy who was standing back letting his friends scold me. I gave him a glare. He shrugged, not at all intimidated, leaving them to deal with me.
Sexy redhead folded his arms, making them bulge, and stared at me before giving me his name. “Win Churchill. Seventeen.”
I paused. Huh, fresh mowed grass was not Snowden.
Coal eyes did the same with an irritated glare. “Dare Currington, twenty-one, and the first one to spot you climbing up on the railing of Snake Creek bridge.”
“Miles Luxton,” the third one answered, keeping back and enjoying the headache his
friends were giving me. “Eighteen. You really shouldn’t bridge jump.”
My eyes landed on Jamison as he wrung out his shirt. “Jamison Hooks, eighteen, and the one you smirked at before you lurched yourself off the side and then went in after you!”
I swung my head toward back to Dare and gave him sass for his “Jumper Girl” comment while giving him what he demanded. “Name’s Hannah; I’m seventeen.” I put my hands on my hips, irritated. “Not a kid.”
I liked the way they shifted uncomfortably. It was like they didn’t know what to do with this new information. That was until they started to take notice of me, running their eyes up my body until their gazes rested on my chest. I folded my arms, discouraging their viewing, and glared.
I stood in my wet clothes and shivered as a breeze swept along with the slight scent of fresh cut grass. I sighed, realizing I needed to end this so I could run home, hook back up to my little black pouch and get out of these wet clothes, all before Dad got home. It wasn’t easy being me.
Miles took a good look at me, not pervish at all, and stated, “She’s shivering, guys. Maybe we should get out of here and head on to my house to get her warm.” He gestured to my soaked clothes.
“Hey, what about me?” Jamison asked, hands on hips and glaring at his friends jokingly.
“You’ll live,” Win snapped at him as he put a gentle hand on my shoulder and started to guide me up the embankment. I leaned in and sniffed him, making sure I wasn’t going crazy. He pulled back, green eyes narrowed. I shrugged. He must have mowed his yard before coming here. “And, you,” he went on. “Why were you trying to kill yourself? You look like you eat good, no bruises, and you grinned at Jamison before you jumped.”
“It’s not the fuckin’ first time. Meet Pool House Jumper from the other night,” Jamison outed me. “Let’s get out of here.”
I smirked.
“No, shit?” Win said in disbelief as he looked me over.
“I can take care of myself,” I bit out, pulling myself out of his hold.
I picked up my pace. Go to his house? Did they think I was an idiot? I made it to the path that led to the parking lot where I had parked and saw a sleek black car a few spaces from my old green Jeep Cherokee. That hadn’t been there before. It must be theirs.
Tromping through the leaves on the path, I made my way there while all the guys behind me murmured to themselves about what the hell I just tried to do on the bridge.
“Hey, Hannah! Where ya going?” Jamison asked as I drew near to my jeep. I heard the thudding of feet and then a swoosh before he caught up with me super quick. “What the hell?” he said slowly.
I glanced over at him and saw him studying his feet in bewilderment. I raised a brow in question when his green eyes met mine. His furrowed. “Did you just see...”
“What?” I asked impatiently as I reached my jeep and bent down to pull out my keys from under the edge of my back wheel where I’d left them.
“Nothin’,” he answered quickly, glancing back at his buds who were currently tense and watching me.
Shrugging, I unlocked my door, ready to get in when the rest of the guys crowded around my jeep.
“I don’t think you should drive,” Win called out.
“Yeah,” Jamison agreed, “You seem a little shook up, and not only that, you did just jump off a bridge.”
I growled. “Not to bring it up again, but it’s not the first time. You’re killin’ my buzz.”
I spied my black pouch, thinking my time was almost up, before turning around and pushing Jamison out of my comfort zone and glaring at his friends.
“Still, delayed shock can happen,” Win reasoned.
I needed to end this before I fainted. “Yes! Yes, I did jump off a bridge! And yes off a pool house.”
“Onto a trampoline,” Jamison stated dryly.
I glared at him. “Like I told you, it wasn’t to kill myself. Was it fun? Yes. Did I die? No. And I don’t want to sooo, with that point made, I don’t think I should blindly get into a car filled with strange guys.”
Jamison glared at me. “If you’re going to do thrills like that, you need back-up it’s too dangerous to be doing things like that by yourself. Now grab your stuff and get in our car so we can make sure you get home safely. It’s either that, or were calling the police.”
And Jamison aka - peppermint guy. I wonder where he shops for cologne. Wait, shit. What did he just say?
“We just want to make sure you’re not going to try and jump again when we leave,” Win explained, his hands clenched at his sides. “Please.”
I blew out a breath and grumbled, realizing that they still thought I was suicidal, and in their position, I would act almost the same way. And I didn’t need the police involved. “How about you all can be creepy stalkers, follow me home, and watch me go inside my house? Plus, don’t you all have stuff to do today?”
Jamison turned around and glanced at his friends, who all seemed to be having a silent conversation. While they were busy, I slipped into my seat and yanked my door closed before they could react.
“Hey!”
I locked the doors and yelled at them without rolling down my window while I started my Jeep, “You want to follow me, then hurry up!”
Win was already sprinting toward their car while Jamison stood there glaring at me. “I’d move away if you want to keep your toes,” I warned him as I started to back up.
He jumped away and shook his head in irritation before jogging toward his friend's car.
I sped out of the parking lot and onto the road, merging into the light traffic, and hoped to high-heaven I could lose them.
Chapter Five
I sighed when my free fallin’ adrenaline high dissipated, when reality brought me back down. I had lost the guys along the way but it hadn’t been easy. The yellow light I skated through helped me with my endeavor.
Grateful I lost those crazy guys, I rounded the corner in my neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of my new house on Dexter Lane. Their worries were in the right place but, for me, unheeded and unneeded.
Grabbing my black pouch and bag, I got out of my car to head inside the older brown house and made sure to lock the door behind me. Dropping my bag on the table in the front hallway, I headed toward the bathroom for a shower. I knew my dad wasn’t home from work yet because his car was absent from the drive, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back when I finished my shower. I needed to hurry up.
Once in the bathroom, I dropped the rest of my things on the counter and turned on the shower, letting it warm up. I hurried toward my room, grabbing clothes and the small medical bag of supplies before heading back into the steam filled room.
I laid all the stuff on the counter beside the other things that had I left there and hopped into the warm water to scrub up. After a quick rinse, making sure all the creek water and germs were gone, I got out slowly. My body swayed from side to side as the walls rippled and moved. I swallowed down my nausea as I staggered to the sink. Compared to other episodes, this wasn't bad. I carefully dried myself, avoiding the small circle area on my right waistline, before donning my clothes. When I glanced back over to the countertop and saw my pouch, it was like a tidal wave of reality swept through me. I was never going to be normal. Never healthy. There was no cure, at least, not yet. The pain came back. It always did.
I grabbed the black pouch and small medical bag and proceeded to take out a small, thin tube with a needle at one end and a connector at the other. I hooked the tube up to my pouch, leaving the needle end untouched, before I turned on the tiny machine. I watched as the machine lit up and ran the medicine through the tube. When it dispensed out all the air and a few drops had been expelled from the tip of the needle, I put it on pause. I grabbed the medical bag and pulled out an alcohol wipe, tearing the square piece open before I lifted my shirt to expose my waistline that held an unusual bump under my skin. I carefully wiped that area clean before reaching for the needle and inserting it, flinchin
g as I felt the pinch.
Life sucked.
In my room, I put the medical bag away and rested on my bed until I felt half normal. When the pain and dizziness passed, I slid over to my computer and checked my emails, seeing if Trace had emailed me that video yet. I frowned, noticing the lack of an email and picked up my phone to call her. It was mid-day Saturday so she should be just waking up from last night's race.
I clicked on her name before putting the phone to my ear, waiting for her to answer.
“Hannah?” her groggy voice filtered the line. She was obviously still sleeping.
I glanced over to my clock that rested on top of a pile of magazines on the mini fridge beside my bed. “It’s eleven there, Trace.”
“Damn, babe,” she groaned, “When did you become an earlier riser?”
Woops. I grinned, laying down on my bed. “When I was introduced to Daylight Saving Time. The sun waits for no one.”
“Then get black-out curtains, girl! So why are you callin’ me this early, anyways?”
“The video?” I reminded her as I grabbed a racing magazine and flipped through it, looking at speed times and bike flips that were photographed in mid-air.
“Damn. I haven’t gotten to it yet. It was the last one, right? I just thought with your move and all...”
I threw the magazine back on the mini fridge, jerking myself up into a sitting position and gripping my phone. “No. You can still do the thing if I send it to you, right? I'm mean, I’ll have to be more inventive on the whole-”
“I won’t, Hannah. Not anymore, babe. You have no one there to-”
“But I don’t need anyone!” I argued, “I can do it on my own.”
“Hate to point this out, but you need me,” Tracy retorted, and I stayed quiet, fuming inside because she was right. “I’m sorry, Hannah. You’re my best friend and I...I don’t want to lose you any quicker than I have to. I’ll do the last one, but that's it. I want you to try and get a date. Get laid, babe, and I don’t mean sleep. Grab the first hot hunk you lay your eyes on and lose that V-card.”
The Bridge Over Snake Creek Page 4