Chapter Thirty #2
“It’s my halo. I’m representing my birthday theme,” I say with a bratty smile.
Gavin snags it from my head, and I holler, reaching for it. “Your angelic privileges have been revoked. Especially after this year.”
“I haven’t been bad,” I argue. I hold up a package with a red satin ribbon tied in a perfect bow. “Santa still brought presents.”
Being around my brother always seems to revert me back to my ten-year-old self. Teasing. Arguing. Pushing and tugging. My parents don’t even try to intervene anymore.
After watching Elf in the theatre room together, I stand and stretch. Mom is curled up next to my dad, asleep. Gavin is texting with someone. I don’t ask with who. He’ll never tell me. Doesn’t mean I don’t try to peek when I walk by. He covers the screen with his middle finger.
I give my dad a kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, my girl.”
I flick Gavin’s ear as I leave and head up to my room.
I decorated my room with twinkling snowflakes. The flickering lights make it look magical. And surprisingly, it’s still fairly clean since Darcy organized it.
On the center of my bed is a metallic-silver box. My heart warms at the little surprise.
I sit on the bed and pull off the lid.
Inside is a white card that fits perfectly in the bottom of the box.
In square black letters, it reads I miss you.
When I lift it out, written on the back is I miss us.
Beneath is a framed picture of me, standing between Jonathan and Collin.
We have our arms around each other’s necks.
Our faces are tanned, cheeks red from too much sun or running around.
My hair is barely contained in its braid.
We’re each making a face at the camera. Collin’s cross-eyed.
I’m making a fish face. And Jonathan’s puckered mouth is pulled to the side with his eyes looking in the opposite direction, right at me.
I let out a choked laugh. Tears blur my vision. This was the summer before high school. When we were still young enough not to know better. But my heart still knew what love felt like. And I love these boys. Then and now.
“Are you crying?”
I nearly give myself the hiccups with the gulp of air I swallow.
Jonathan is standing in my bathroom doorway, hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.
“Sorry.” He takes a step into my room. “I planned to leave before you came up.”
“Why?”
“Um… because we’re not talking?” It’s a question, like he’s asking me if this is true.
“Why?” I ask because I don’t want it to be true. Not anymore.
“I honestly don’t know. This has been the longest month of my life, not being able to talk to you.”
“Thought not talking was our thing.”
“Does it need to be?” He looks like he’s asking me for permission.
I’m silent for a moment, peering into his pleading, dark eyes.
What is he seeking exactly? An apology? Forgiveness?
Permission to forget everything that happened?
And as much as it’s been the longest month of my life, too, I can’t pretend like I didn’t see anything.
Not at the bonfire. Not at the garage. Not at his house.
“What does that mean?”
“Do you want to… talk?”
“About?” I eye him carefully. It’s a challenge.
I need him to open up this dialogue with something meaningful.
We’ve been dancing around deep conversations our entire lives.
Staying on the surface, where it’s safe.
Laughing and having fun. And that may have been enough when we were young and unaware.
But it’s not enough now, when I know better.
There’s too much at stake—and not just my heart.
“Anything. Everything. I don’t care. I just… miss you. And I don’t want to do this anymore. Whatever this is.”
My heart falters. Oh shit. Are we about to have the friend talk?! “Do what?”
“Whatever is keeping us apart.”
“Are you saying… you want to go back to the way things were before?” I don’t want to cry again, but this isn’t what I want. This isn’t what I meant. I want to move forward, not slip back into oblivion.
“Before what?”
“Before, before?” I’m not going to be the one to say it.
He narrows his eyes. “Before you had sex with Graham Westhouser? That’d be great.”
I laugh in surprise and say in a deep voice to mimic Graham, “Before… before.” What are we doing?
“We really do suck at talking, don’t we?” Jonathan offers a deprecating smile. He walks to my desk and sits on the rolling chair that is miraculously free of clothes. “Let’s try this again.”
Jonathan rolls the chair to the side of my bed and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “I lied to you every time you asked how I got hurt. Where a bruise came from. How I got a cut.”
“Every time?”
“Okay. Not every time. Only when it was from my dad. Sometimes, I really had gotten into a fight, had an injury, jumped off something. He’s hurt me most of my life. Not always enough to leave a mark. Sometimes, the words are worse than his fist.”
“What does… what does your mom do?” I’m trying to remain calm, but emotion breaks my voice. My thoughts are exploding with panic, wanting to ask a thousand questions.
“He doesn’t do it in front of her. He loves her too much.
Same with my brother. For some reason, I’m the one who always disappoints him.
It’s like my existence alone makes him hate me.
I’m not sure what they know other than that we argue a lot.
He makes sure to always lay into me when they’re not home, or in the garage or somewhere else no one can see us. ”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. My eyes blur. I blink back the tears. “No one should ever feel like they shouldn’t exist.”
His eyes find mine. They shine with desolation. “Sometimes… I wish I didn’t.”
I shake my head. My lip quivers. “Do you really wish that?”
“No one should have to go through this.” He doesn’t look away, not even when a tear drips onto his cheek.
“No. They shouldn’t. And I’m so sorry that he’s made you feel like that. But I can’t imagine my life without you. You are my best memories. All of my wishes. My favorite person. I don’t know how I would exist without you. At least not the person I am now. I wouldn’t be the same.”
“Do you still love me even though I don’t deserve you?” He looks like he’s prepared for me to smash him into a million shards. But he’s been cut too many times in his life. I never want to be the one who hurts him.
“That’s not a choice.”
He doesn’t understand.
“My heart could be obliterated and still belong to you.”
“Obliterated?”
I let out a tear-filled chuckle. “Talking about it is harder than I thought.” I take a breath to gather myself. “You don’t get to decide who loves you. Or how they love you. But you do get to decide if you deserve it. To accept being loved, no matter how hard it is to believe you’re worthy.
“There isn’t anything you can do that could make me stop loving you, Jonathan Reeves.
Nothing. I will always look for you. No matter where you are.
Because I know you. You’re my best friend.
The boy who made sure I was never left behind.
You convinced me I could jump from cliffs.
And was braver than I felt. You allowed me to believe I could stand up for myself while always being the one standing behind me.
You’re my first love. The only boy I’ll ever love.
“And I don’t regret a single second of your existence. Not when you kissed those girls and I wanted to puke. Or when you visited Rutgers and pretended to be twenty to get laid.”
Jonathan makes an apologetic face.
“Not when you didn’t tell me to break up with every boy I dated who was the exact opposite of you, just so I could try to forget how much I was in love with you.”
He nods. “Now they make sense.”
I laugh.
“And not even when I watched you share a fricken lollipop with Olivia Holister.”
“Who?” He seriously looks confused.
“Livvy!” Saying her name tastes gross.
“Oh, yeah. That was stupid.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. I was there to make sure Oren didn’t do anything…
and then you arrived with Collin. And I was distracted by…
it doesn’t matter. I screwed up. None of it mattered.
And I ended up pissing you off and losing you for an entire month because I was too lost in my own self-pitying bullshit. ” He clenches his jaw.
I’m still waiting for the answer. He narrows his eyes when I remain silent. I widen my eyes and blink. Jonathan inhales and blurts. “She… put it in my mouth, and… it happened.”
I cringe. “She put it in your mouth? That’s… disturbing.”
He cringes and nods. “Can we not talk about her anymore? I swear to you, I have no interest in her. Never have or will. It was stupid, and I was a jackass. I’m sorry. I’ll never have another lollipop for the rest of my life. I promise.”
“Jackass, maybe. But… you’re not a monster.”
This sobers him.
“I see you, Jonathan Reeves. And, yes, I still love you.”
He smiles his gorgeous white smile. It’s so big; it gleams. I don’t see it nearly enough.
“I love you too. The day you found me was the best day of my life. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t be the same without you. Your smile. Your little quirks. Your brilliant eyes that, I swear, twinkle. And your trust in me. That is the only thing keeping me together.”
Jonathan leans over and pulls me across the bed.
“That’s enough talking. I’d rather show you how I feel.” He scoops me onto his lap. His lips are a featherlight brush against mine. Soft, sweeping kisses along my cheek to my jaw. A warm breath against my neck. His voice is a low rumble in my ear. “I have something for you.”
He reaches into his jacket on the back of the chair and holds up a Ring Pop. It’s red, orange and yellow. It looks like fire. It sparkles in the flickering light.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you after your recital.”
I barely remember my recital even though it was only five days ago. It feels so much longer.
“Figured this could make up for—”
“I’m the one who needs to apologize.” I peer into his eyes to show him just how much I mean it. “I’m so sorry, Jonathan. I’m sorry I ever made you think I was afraid of you. I know you. And you’re not him. Never him. And I swear I won’t walk away from us again. I promise.”
Before he can open his mouth to diminish my apology, I kiss him—and keep kissing him.