A Boy Named Jake

I want to introduce my new baby to you all!

His name is Jake Timmons. He is seventeen years old, and lives in New York City.

He's the male main character in my newest story- currently called Jakes Story (a better description would probably be Pages and pages of stains made by Maddie's tears).

I have yet to find a picture that matches him exactly, so that's why all of those down there. The top one is quite a bit like his face, but he's not nearly as buff as that. His body size is more like the little dude clear down at the bottom. And he's got a blue mohawk. Yup.

So without further delay, here's some of my favorite tidbits from Jake.

 

She tipped her nose up at him and frowned but he looked completely unfazed by her displeasure. Standing with his hands in his pockets and a slouch in his frame, he looked like she was the last thing on earth he cared for. It was ironic.

He smiled at her and the worry in her face immediately vanished. Funny, he thought, how easily he could calm her, just by pretending he was happy. She could never tell the difference.

“Jake! What is with this pistanthrophobia?” He stopped suddenly. “Wait, what?” “It’s a fear of trusting someone.” She sighed. “Did I do something wrong?” Jake stroked his chin like those cheesy actors in old movies. “That’s a word huh? Where’d you hear it?” She frowned. ‘I found it on the internet. Are you going to answer me?” He grinned and spread his arms out like an artist revealing a painting. “Jake the pistanthrophobiac. I like it.” “You’re infuriating.” She shook her head. “Do you have a word for that too?”

Jakes hands hung loosely at his sides, his shoulder slumped in defeat. “I’m not useless.” “I never said…” “You thought it.” He accused. “But I’m not. I can help. I…”He looked over her shoulder, searching for a credible example. He swallowed and his eyes flickered to hers. “I can teach you what not to do.”

He smiled suddenly, as if their whole conversation had never take place. As if he hadn’t hurt and been hurt. It happened so fast she knew it had to be fake, and she wondered how many times it took before he learned to do it smile so convincingly.

 

 

 

Her hand slid into his and he twirled her through the dance and she thought that maybe for once he was wrong. She wasn’t the angel in this story. He was. Maybe he wings were stained black, and the feathers weren’t quite even, but he was still her angel.

 

He walked along and she noticed there was a bounce in his step. “Are you happy?” She raised an eyebrow. He nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

“Why is that?” She smiled. He grinned and pulled his hand free from his jacket pocket, producing a small yellow flower. “For you.” She grinned. “Oh, it’s so pretty.” He nodded proudly and tucked it behind her ear. “It’ll match you.” She flushed and touched it carefully. “Where did you get your hands on a flower?” She squinted. He grinned and shrugged. “I stole it from my neighbors yard.”

 

“Trish don’t. Don’t put yourself in that position. I know him better than you do.” He gripped her shoulders carefully. “This will end with you crying. And he’ll still be flying through life like a stray bullet.”

“Skipping around with death isn’t a game Jake!”

“Then why is it so fun?”

 

 

 

Jake winced. “It just seems like everything I do you point out as a mistake.” She reached for him. “I’m only trying to help you Jake. You wouldn’t make so many mistakes if you’d stop and think just a little bit before you race off.” He shrugged and it looked painful. “Why stop and think? It’s not like there’s a test coming later.”

 

He laughed as she wobbled down the street, losing her balance and ending up crouching on the board, holding on to the back to keep from falling off. “There you go. We’ll have you winning medals in no time. When you’re famous I want a steak dinner.”

 

 

He knew loving her was a mistake. She loved Devin. It was obvious. But she was willing to let him hover in the background. It was a mistake. But it was one he loved making.

 

She could hear sirens as she let him in, the sound getting closer each second. She noted the flush in his cheeks and the slightly rapid pace of his breathing. “Are those for you?” He shrugged. “Jake what did you do?”

“Nothing.” He smiled shyly. “I think they’re just playing my song.”

“Jake you cant just sit and brood all the time. You need to get it out or you’ll explode.” He smiled, completely ignoring the seriousness of the situation. “I’ve always thought explosions were pretty cool.”

He was so chaotic. Every decision he made was based on an impulse rather than an actual thought process. It was like a badly filmed movie. Jumping from one angle to the next so fast that it gave you a headache to watch. She only hoped one of those impulse driven leaps wouldn’t get him killed.

 

 “Don’t you realize you’re playing with fire with him? You think you’re having a good time and can’t see the walls burning down around you.”

“He wont hurt me Devin. It’s not like that.”

“He’s not an angel Trisha. He’s closer to a devil. Angels and devils cant dance together. The angel always loses.”

“Maybe the devil can change.” She said softly.

He shook his head. “No. The angel was already compromised when they agreed to dance.”

 
So that's my boy. After my sister read the snippets (there's over four hundred of them, all out of order, and not in any body of the story yet), she told me it didn't sound like me at all....After about ten minutes of trying to get her to tell me what exactly that meant, she told me that it just seemed so deep, and almost sad, but happy too. Deep. Finally. I was pretty happy cause that's exactly what I was going for when I was writing them. I'm so excited to see it finished. I'm hoping to have it done by the end of this year (hopefully that wont be too hard since I have like 10,000 words of it wrote already).
My writing plan for the new year is to write at least 100 words in each of my story's I'm working on. They should all be finished by the end of the year or sooner, and I am so excited because I'm actually figuring out what the next step is after writing the story. I'm ready to tackle editing and querying and take my darlings somewhere. Have a good evening everyone! I'm off to youth group, ready to read Clockwork Angel to my mom on the way there (I've addicted her to William Herondale ;))