10. Braxton
Chapter 10
Braxton
“ S hit!”
I screw up another piece of paper. The first letter came easily—it made sense to start at the very beginning—but now that I know she’s going to read them, my approach has changed. I’m compelled to cram as much as I can into this one. There’s so much I yearn to say.
Resting my elbows on the desk in front of me, I bury my face in my hands. I can’t rush this.
With that in mind, I put pen to paper. Her interest was piqued when we stopped off at the primary school we both attended. She even got out of the car and walked around the perimeter of the entire school, taking it all in. It’s odd, yet sad to know she’s seeing these old, familiar things through fresh eyes.
Letter two …
Dearest Jemma,
The seventeenth of March 1997 was a pinnacle time in our young lives. We’d been neighbours for over a year at this stage, and our friendship was growing stronger with each passing day.
The fact that I was a year older than you meant we were in different grades, and we never played together at school. I’d smile whenever we passed each other, though, because just seeing you made me happy.
In the playground, you hung around the girls in your grade, and I played with my mates. In the beginning, I was scared to tell my friends about you. To them, any girl was a germ-infested no-go zone. You were never like that to me; from that very first day I found you different. You were funny, easy to get along with, and incredibly sweet.
Now that your mother knew I was home alone in the afternoons, she insisted I stay at your house until my mum got back from work. I looked forward to that hour each day because you were all mine. You seemed just as happy to be around me.
In those moments I didn’t have to pretend not to like you, because I did. A lot. It would have been impossible for me not to. I was at an impressionable age, and to an eight-year-old boy reputation is everything.
Little did we know that year would be a game changer for us. One incident in the school playground changed everything. It was a moment that put my entire reputation on the line.
It was a Monday. I only remember that because I’d spent the entire Sunday with you and your parents at the beach. I was still on a high from it and sought you out in the playground. On the down-low, of course.
I steered my mates around to the grassed area at the back of the school when the lunch bell sounded, because I knew that’s where you played elastics, or skipped rope with your friends. It was a risky move on my part, but one I was willing to take. I just needed a glimpse of you to get me through to the end of the day. It sounds silly when I say it like that, but that’s exactly how you made me feel … how you still make me feel.
When there was no sign of you, I started to worry. Call it a sixth sense, but I knew something was off. I didn’t hesitate to leave my friends to go in search of you. I looked high and low—the front playground, the library, I even checked the sick bay in the office in case you’d been hurt. But, nothing, and now I was getting desperate.
I ran back to your friends to ask them if they’d seen you. One of them said you’d gone back to the classroom because you’d forgotten to bring your lunch down to the playground, so I headed in that direction. I remember bounding up the stairs two at a time.
As soon as I hit the landing, I heard you. You were crying. I called your name as I broke into a run. The moment you stepped out from behind the partition wall, I was filled with a mixture of relief and confusion. It was the first time I’d ever seen you cry. “What’s wrong?” I asked, placing my hands on your shoulders.
“Larry … Larry Wilson.” When you buried your face in my chest and wept, I wrapped you in my arms. No other words were needed. ‘The Looter’ was what everyone called Larry Wilson behind his back. He was the school bully and ruled the playground with his iron fist. He was in grade five, and although only ten, he was enormous. Even the sixth graders were frightened of him. He was notorious for preying on the weak and taking whatever he wanted. In this case, your lunch.
I’d never experienced anger like I did in that moment. I had no idea how, but Larry Wilson was going to pay for what he’d done to you.
Manoeuvring you over to the large bench seat by the wall, I sat you down. “Do you like ham, cheese and lettuce?” I asked you.
“Yes,” you sniffled, wiping the tears from your face.
After unwrapping my sandwich, I passed half to you. You were lucky it was a Monday; my mum always bought meat from the deli on Sundays. It usually only lasted until midweek, so the rest of the days all I got was boring old Vegemite.
Once we’d finished eating, I walked you back to your friends before going in search of ‘The Looter’. I was running on pure adrenaline. A clear-thinking Braxton wouldn’t have even entertained the idea of taking on the school giant, but that’s what seeing you upset did to me.
I briefly rethought my plan the moment I was standing in front of him. He was almost as wide as he was tall and towered over me. But then I remembered your tear-stained face, and that was enough to give me the courage to take him on.
I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath before I spoke. “Why did you steal Jemma’s lunch?” I asked.
He laughed and pushed me in the chest, making me stumble. “Get out of my face, loser,” he growled, and something inside me snapped.
Lunging at him, I threw my arms around his waist, ramming my shoulder into his stomach. The adrenaline coursing through my veins made me feel invincible.
I heard the loud gasps from the other students when Larry landed on the muddy ground with a thud. I was now on top of him. A few kids chanted, “Fight! Fight! Fight!”, and it didn’t take long for a large crowd to gather.
My eyes briefly locked with his, and the anger I could see reflecting back at me, only spurred me on further. He was probably going to gobble me up, just like he had your lunch, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.
When he tried to wriggle out from underneath me, I pulled him into a headlock. I was actually surprised by my own strength.
“You like stealing food from little girls?” I said as I reached for a handful of mud. The moment he opened his mouth to speak, I shoved the mud into his gob. The more he tried to protest, the more mud I forced into his mouth.
“Get off me,” he said in a muffled cry, as tears leaked from his eyes. He wasn’t so tough now.
“Not until you swallow it.”
I’d never done anything so mean before, but he had this coming.
The crowd started to point and laugh as ‘The Looter’ struggled to swallow the mud in his mouth. A part of me felt sorry for him, but the pain he had inflicted on the other students over the years far outweighed what was happening to him in that moment. I always knew it would only be a matter of time before he pushed someone too far. I just never thought that someone would be me.
“Hey, break this up.” The teacher on playground duty grabbed hold of the back of my shirt, pulling me to my feet. “Go to the principal’s office immediately!”
I knew I was in big trouble, but it was worth it. To this day, I still remember the awe on people’s faces as I stood tall and walked away from the scene, ready to receive my punishment. For those few minutes, I felt like the king of the world.
Because this was a first offence for me, the school didn’t contact my parents. I did, however, receive lunchtime detention for the rest of the week. It was a small price to pay. After that day he never picked on you again.
I’ll never forget the feeling I got when I left the classroom after my first day of detention, because I found you in the corridor just outside my lunchtime prison, sitting on the floor by the wall with your legs crossed. You looked so lost and sad.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I helped you to your feet.
“It’s my fault you’re in trouble.”
“No, it’s not, Jem. You didn’t make him eat mud.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Yes. I started all of this, it’s only fair that I do the detention too.” You took a step towards me, getting up on the tips of your toes to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’ll never forget what you did for me, Brax.”
I’m pretty sure that’s the exact moment I fell in love with you. It was evident that you cared about me, and you have no idea how much I needed someone like you in my life. It was comforting to know that you had my back, just like I had yours.
We became inseparable after that day. I had only taken the risk to protect you, and had no idea I would come out the other end as the school legend. I would’ve done it again in a heartbeat for you, Jem. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.
That day our bond was cemented in stone forever.
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton
Just because she doesn’t remember our bond, doesn’t mean it’s not there. All those old feelings are buried somewhere deep inside her, I know it. You can’t love someone so completely one day, and feel nothing for them the next. It’s not possible. It’s just going to take time to coax those feelings back to the surface.
I read over the letter before folding it in half and sliding it into the envelope. Reaching for the tiny sandwich charm sitting on my desk, I lay it in the palm of my hand. I feel myself smiling as I think back to that day.
These letters were supposed to help Jem get back pieces of her past, but they’re helping me as well. She may be lost to me for now, but reliving all these precious memories I’ve made with her over the years will keep me going until I have her back.