HEY! YES IT'S HERE!! CHAPTER EIGHT! And I have a surprise for you guys!! It's not about the chapter but about the novel!
Staring at the note, so deep, like it was the De Vinci Code. He sighed, looking at the note was so hard to see who sent it. He's first thought was Janice. She was known for her notes, which bugged him so ever much. Turner dreading seeing a sticky pink note on his lunch. Janice was all for notes and quotes. And Tuner liked the quotes, like Shakespeare. But the notes bothered him. Who ever did this, didn't know what they had stepped in.
Turner gripped the paper very tight, making it to crease. He released his grip. Then stared at that one word. Someone. He stared so deep at the word, it was like that someone, was going to just magically appear. And you have no clue how Turner wished for that. That someone was like a voice in the back of his head. He imagined her voice talking. But it wasn't Janice's handwriting. So who would do this? He had one person pop in his head, but he shook her off like a bad flea. She wouldn't do this. She was busy with other things. Right?
"Damn." He muttered. Throwing the paper to the ground. He began to growing anxious by the second. Turner gritted his teeth. He began to think about her. Her long dark locks of perfect dark hair. Her piercing ice eyes. Her ivory skin so beautiful. Her peach and pink lips so perfect to kiss. Her pretty features. Her high cheek bones, flawlessly structured. Her hourglass figure so striking. Her long and lean legs, look pretty and slim when she slipped on her turquoise pumps.
Why couldn't he get her out of his mind. No, this wasn't natural. He normally was so obessed with a woman. Not as divine as her. He ran his hand throw his hair agressively. He sighed, inhaling the living room scent-which was Febreeze lavender scent-then slowly exhaling. Turner shook his head once again. No, she wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Her jet black dress. That was just knee high. Flowing perfectly. Her long curls flipping off her shoulder. Her sexy smile she had given him, as she showed him the way to the table, at Tavern on the Green. Her perfume scent wafering in the air. Skylar was having some effect to Turner. A major effect, and that worried Turner.
"God! She's on my mind to much! It's almost insane!" He mumbled quietly to himself. He sighed, croching down to the ground, and picking up the note. He read it for the 14th time. That was it. He was just going to go to Central Park, and see what happens. Then something was holding him back. He froze, staring at the note once again. Imagining her sitting on the bench. Letting her schoolbooks rest in her lap. She wore a floral halter top. She would wear her beloved jeans, with her beige cardigan. As she waited for her Romeo, named Turner.
Though Turner was known to create imagined scenes. He once imagined Carol and Turner sitting at an Italian restaurant. The candle light would light up her face. He would order the most expensive champagne. When she wasn't looking, he would drop a 18 carat diamond gold ring in the champagne glass. And that's how he was going to propose. Well, that changed right?
Skylar, Skylar, Skylar. She was just glued to his mind, sown would be a better term. Yes. She was now a part of him. And it was ridiculous. He sighed. Staring at his living room. He looked at his blank TV screen, seeing Elmo parked in front, sleeping. Like a good dog should.Turner rubbed his chin. Thinking, yes, he's beloved thinking. How it caused so much trouble. He thought about going to Central Park. But something was holding him back. He inhaled, and began to think what he's father would have done.
Unfortunately, Mr. Jenning was known for his charm in women. Turner observed that be had inherited that. But, he wasn't going to place a bet on it. Anyways. Mr. Jenning once had gotten a note, taped on his locker door. Later on, he found out it was from Christina, Christina Delaware. He's soon to be bride, known as Mrs. Jenning. Yes, that was the romantic story of Mr. and Mrs. Jenning. Plain but sweet. Turner remembered when he got told that story. He smiled, then stared at the note, for the 15th time, before he inhaled. He searched for the courage that was in his stomach to proceed with his thought.
Perfectly cut green grass. The perfectly cut trees. Pretty daisies and dandelions. Leaves swept the concrete paved streets. The benches were painted nicely, with just chips off. The lamps were a dark slate black. People had laid out plaid picnic blankets, with wicker baskets filled with food. Children dressed in causal wear, were on the merry-go-around. You could hear the loud shrieks of children screaming out of joy. The smell was so indicative of spring. It was a sunny day, so the sun was beating down on the crystal clear and deep blue lake. The water shimmed like it was fabric with sequins sown on. The geese sat in the water, rather comfortably. The pigeons flew above the beloved park.
Turner scanned the park, like he was a radar. He wasn't sure what he was going to see, but life was a surprise right? He walked on the paved path, walking in a rhythmic tone. He slipped his one had in his Levi's jeans, but the other one was balled up. In his fist was the pink note. Yes, he had drug that note from his apartment building to Central Park. Turner was getting very curious. He's stomach was filled with butterflies, which was unusual. He strolled down the street, hearing his breath. He was panting hard. He was anxious.
What was Turner to expect? An elderly woman who was widowed? Or a under aged high school girl who hadn't even graduated? Questions streamed into his mind, like water rushing over Niagara falls. Turner thought, his eyes practically glued to the paved path. He strolled, listening to the cheerful sounds of the children and birds.
"Turner!" A familiar voice yelled.
He spun on his heels, like anyone would when they heard their voice called out. As he turned around, some of his golden hair flopped into his eyes. He sighed, then looked up at the strained of hair, before blowing it out of his brown eyes. He turned back to continue the walk, obviously the call wasn't for him. Maybe it was a mother telling her son not to throw stones. Yes, that made sense.
"Turner!" The voice yelled. He looked behind his shoulder, seeing someone standing right behind him. He whipped around seeing her. She had her hair pulled back, in a white ribbon. She had a floral dress, that had a white belt across her stomach and black straps to hold it up. She was white crochet gloves, and oxford white shoes. She looked radiate.
A sour look appeared on his face. It was her. It was her. Skylar.
"Skylar" He hissed sourly.
"Turner! Please, just, just listen to me. Okay, I wanted to say sorry. My behavior was not necessary. And to have my ex-boyfriend that just magically came over was wrong. And I thought it was sweet you came to say sorry, when you didn't have to be sorry."
He looked at her, staring at her deep blue eyes. He felt like he was falling. Falling into a deep pool of romance. He snapped out of his trance and looked at her.
"Ex-boyfriend?" That was all he could choke out. Assuming because now It had finally absorbed into his mind.
"Yes, Turner. He came early this morning, saying that what he said wasn't true and that he was angry. I began to cry, and that's when you knocked on my door. I have a lot to explain. And I can't explain now, because I have a Louis Vuitton shoot soon. That's why I look like this" Gesturing to her 1950s outfit. Turner nodded, slowly. He wasn't sure what to say. He was so breathtaking by her speech.
"Skylar Thompson! Get on set!" Yelled a man. Turner raised a brow, known she would be skipping off soon.
"I have to go! But I wanted to let you know. Dinner at Tavern was amazing. Maybe we could do it again sometime." Before running in 5inch heels to the photo-shoot.
Before turning and walking away, he thought, she thought dinner at Tavern was amazing. You've got it Turner. You have charm.
He smiled at himself. Before walking away.
"Turner! Shut up!" Laughed Skylar, yes it was a day after their get-together in Central Park.
"I'm just saying!" Turner said, throwing his hands in the air laughing.
"Okay, okay, have you're fun! But I get to ask the next question!" Skylar said, stabbing a tomato.
Turner nodded, thinking that maybe he was being naïve to go on a date with her. But he was having more fun than any other date.
"Now, if you could only save one person from jumping a bridge, and that your choices were Me or Elmo who would you pick?" Turner sighed, as he spooned some of his soup. He had heard this question so many times, it was unreal.
"Ha! Well, Elmo has been good to me-
"Turner Jenning!" She bursted. He snickered, having some soup.
"My, yes my, turn to ask one question, why did you sign that note -Someone?" Turner picked some bread out of the wicker basket and broke it apart, then dipped the white garlic bread in his soup.
"No! Turner! You can't ask that one!" Turner shot a look, Skylar gave in "fine, I was afraid you wouldn't come if it was addressed -Skylar."
Turner nodded, she had a very good point. Yes, he wouldn't have come if addressed Skylar. My, she was smart! Turner thought. Skylar flashed a embarrassed smile. But began to stab some lettuce.
"Thanks Turner for a nice night." Skylar said, jabbing her key into the lock. Turner smiled.
"You're very welcome." He said. Skylar got the door open, swinging it so it would hit the wall. "Well I better go! See you soon Skylar!" Waving good bye.
"Turner! You forgot something!"
Turner didn't walk away but he came closer. "What did I forget?"
"Come closer, and I'll tell you!" He nodded and walked closer to Skylar, she chanted to come closer and closer and closer. Till Turner's nose was almost touching her face. Her breath was warming his face, and her tongue was touching his lips. And that's went she kissed him.And? THoughts and views?