Chapter 7
Love on Shaky Ground
Emily
Nine years ago...
Isat on the stairs hugging the wall, trying to make myself small with my teddy bear Willi. Papa was yelling like a giant angry bear and it scared me. “So ungrateful! I bust my ass providing for this family! All I ask from you is that you take care of the kids!”
I could barely understand Mama through her sniffles and sobs. “I work too, Wolfgang. I have a part-time job. And I take care of the household and the kids. I’m exhausted. I simply asked for you to spend more time with them.” Her voice sounded shaky, like she was scared too. Then there was this big crash.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks and I hugged Willi tighter. Mama and Papa never talked, just yelled. They thought I didn’t know but I heard it every time.
“Emi?”
I almost squeaked when a hand came down on my shoulder. It was Lucas. My tears ran even harder as the yells from downstairs started up again.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Lucas said, his voice sounding like a cozy blanket. “Let’s go to my room.”
I followed him in and we sat on his bed. “Mama and Papa are fighting again,” I said.
Lucas looked down, like he was sad too. “You’ve been hearing them?”
“Yeah,” I whimpered, and he hugged me. “I hate that they fight. They always fight.”
“They’re grown-ups. And grown-ups fight, Emi.” He patted my head. “It’s normal, okay?”
I stopped crying and looked up at him. “It is?”
He nodded. “Yeah, it happens. I’ve seen it in movies.”
“So I don’t have to worry about losing Papa?”
“I don’t know.” His voice wobbled. “But I promise you’ll always have Mama and me. We’ll be here, and even if we can’t be, you’ll find someone who will, because you’re lovely and you deserve it.”
I buried my face in my big brother’s chest. He was my hero. Always let me come to his room, even when he had friends over. His room was my safe place.
“Can I stay here with you tonight?” I asked.
“Of course.”
My throat felt scratchy from all the crying. I closed my eyes, letting my brother be my shield from all the scary stuff.
The next morning Mama looked sad, but I told myself it was normal that grown-ups fight. Lucas said so.
Now...
“Shooting star!” I gave Jon’s shoulder a playful pinch. “Make a wish!”
“It’s your wish. And I’m not doing that corny shit,” Jon quipped, but his eyes remained fixed on the night sky.
“Don’t pretend,” I teased, a smile tugging at my lips. “I know you like stargazing.”
We had driven Tim’s BMW up a desolate road to Boonville’s highest peak. The clouds from earlier today had swept away, and the stars gleamed as if to give us a private show. The crisp pinpricks of light in the darkness by far surpassed anything I had seen in Germany.
Jon downed the final bite of his takeout taco. His favorite, I’d learned. He’d inhaled at least five, while I had moved on to cookie dough ice cream after my second. He threw the wrapping paper to the back of the car and turned to face me. “Did you read my book?”
“If I read it?” I licked ice cream off my spoon and put it down in the cup holder to reach for Jon’s black book in my bag. “I annotated it. But if you don’t like it don’t worry. I used an erasable pencil and—”
“You did what?” Jon’s face flashed surprise and panic.
“I love your poems. And guess what?” I pulled out a second black notebook, the one I bought with Danielle before Christmas. It was almost full by now. “I read yours, so now you can read mine! This is for you.” I wanted to open up to him the way he did to me, to let him into my deepest thoughts and secrets, no matter how ugly they were.
“Shit,” Jon exclaimed, grabbing the notebook. “I had no idea you were into writing too, Little German.” He scanned through the pages in disbelief. I watched him immerse himself in my words. The night sky wasn’t even nearly as beautiful as him.
“I used to write all the time in Germany, but I stopped when I came here. Seeing you scribbling, it made me want to pick it up again... Plus, it made me feel so much closer to you, reading yours. I wanted you to have something like that from me too.”
But Jon’s attention was captured by the words. My words. My heart raced as he stopped at a random page and frowned at it. It wasn’t my best work by any means. “But it’s not like yours,” I added quickly. “It has poems and regular diary entries, but also—”
“Differences between America and Germany—pros and cons.” Jon snickered, showing me the page. “Oh, here’s a to-do list: ‘clean up room, read assignment, text Danielle, shower.’” He raised his eyebrows, amused. “You plan when to shower?”
“I plan when to wash my hair!” I tugged at the ends in defense. “If I wash it too often it gets greasy too fast, and if I wash it too little I look like a slimy fish.”
“A cute fish, though.”
“Okay, you’re done!” I reached for the notebook.
“No way, I want to read it all. Even your meal planner.” He lifted an arm and invited me to snuggle into his embrace. I melted like butter.
“‘The waves return,’” he read aloud. “‘I feel them pulling.’”
I put my head in his lap and closed my eyes, listening to his voice say my words.
“‘Got to stay strong, stay strong, stay strong.’”
“‘Surge after surge, they would wash away my soul to the sea.’”
“‘They can’t understand, understand, understand.’”
“‘It’s my heart, my choice, my fight.’”
“‘I’m in control, control, control.’”
“‘I swim.’”
“‘The waves fall back again... A calm before the pull.’”
A silence.
Jon’s gaze stayed fixed on the poem, reading it once more.
“You hate it?” I asked from below. Not afraid of his opinion, but curious what he truly thought of it.
He sighed, closed the book and set it on the dashboard. “I like the writing, but I hate what I put you through, Little German.”
I sat up. “You did nothing wrong.” But that wasn’t entirely true.
He crossed his arms around his shoulders. “This is about addiction, isn’t it?” he asked with a careful look in my direction.
It suddenly dawned on me that my words were a trigger for him. My own experience with pills had been short-lived, only a few weeks, while Jon’s battle stretched back years. It wasn’t mere waves he confronted, but the full force of a tsunami.
“I’m sorry, Jon. I shouldn’t have given you this, I didn’t think—” I reached for the notebook but he gently caught my wrist.
“This is the best gift anyone has ever made me,” he said. “I’m sorry, but even the key chain you gave me for Christmas can’t compete. By the way, I’d love to have it back if you didn’t burn it.”
I couldn’t help but smile at that. It was right in my bag. I drew out the key chain and twirled it in the air. “You really think you deserve it back?” I teased.
“I don’t,” Jon said with a sudden change in mood. The key chain dropped into my lap.
“What are you saying, Jon? Of course you do!”
“I don’t deserve anything, Little German,” he said. “Not after how much pain I put you and other people through.”
I clutched my fingers around the key chain, momentarily speechless. Jon’s words were filled with a depth of emotion I hadn’t heard in him before. It was becoming increasingly clear that he wasn’t the same person he used to be.
“You deserve more than you give yourself credit for.” I reached out to sweep his long curls from his face, but he shied away.
“I gave you the pill that started it... I got you addicted.”
I swallowed hard. I didn’t like talking about the pills. It made my skin itch. And the memories of that time were something I’d rather forget. “You gave me a choice and I made the wrong one. If someone’s to blame, it’s me. Please, let’s forget about it.”
But concern was still etched over his face. “How do you feel now?” he pressed. “Do you still crave it?”
My first instinct was to say no, but that would’ve been a lie. “Sometimes I do. Especially when I see people with it at school, and I could have access... I even went to Marna’s once but no one was there.”
“You went to Marna’s?” Jon said, his eyes darkening.
“Not my most glorious minute. It’s been a long two months without you.”
Jon let out a long breath, resting his head against the seat and closing his eyes for a moment. “Whenever you feel a craving, call me from now on, okay?”
I nodded. “You too.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to meetings.”
“Jon!” I pouted, my grip harsher around the key chain. “Let me be there for you too.”
“This is my issue, Little German,” he growled. “I don’t want you to be more involved than necessary. Please let me deal with this on my own.”
My imaginary bubble of paradise burst into pieces. Jon had only been gone for two months. I couldn’t realistically expect him to be fully healed. Caroline had told me that he would choose his own way of dealing with recovery.
But he didn’t need to be alone in this. I reached out for his hand and squeezed it. “Jon, you don’t have to pretend like everything is perfect. I don’t want perfect. I’m there for the highs and lows, okay?”
He blinked and looked up at the stars. “I gave you enough lows though,” he whispered.
I tightened my grip on his palm. “I’m only happy if you don’t pretend with me.”
He turned to look at me, and for the first time since his return, I noticed that little flame in his eyes again. “I could never just pretend with you,” he said.
He placed a hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes, leaning into the tenderness of his touch. I was back in my bubble, protected, calm... almost like in my brother’s room.
But I knew I couldn’t avoid the topic. I opened my eyes. “So you still... crave drugs?” I was scared of his reply despite knowing the answer.
“All the time,” he admitted. “Sometimes it gets bad. Sometimes I can distract myself with food or working out. It comes in waves, like you wrote.”
“Are you on a wave right now?”
“No. I’m with you right now, that’s all the high I need.”
I picked up the key chain in my lap and handed it to him. “You definitely deserve this back.”
Jon smiled and leaned in to kiss me. As our lips met, I understood exactly what he meant. No drug could compare to the rush of excitement of kissing him. I just couldn’t get enough.
He drew back a bit, hands cupping my cheeks, eyes drinking in my lips. “I want to be better now. Rehab... surprised me. I’m clean now. It wasn’t easy, but I pulled through because I knew I would get back to you.”
“Oh, Jon,” I whispered. “I always knew you had it in you.”
He leaned into my touch, his eyes filled with emotion. “You were the only one who believed in me. I owe you my life, Little German.”
“No!” I protested, pulling him into an embrace. “You accomplished this all on your own. When you set your mind to something, you give it your all. Your journey to sobriety is your own doing.”
We held each other in a comforting silence. His body was trembling. Eventually he gently pulled away.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t reach out while I was there,” he said, a little chuckle escaping his lips. “I tried to run away to see you but they caught me at the bus station.”
“You didn’t!”
“I did.” He flushed. “You make me act crazy, Little German.”
Jon Denson was really here with me now. Being this... wonderful. Choosing him was the risky choice, but it was the only right one.
“I was so lost without you,” I confessed, tears of joy starting in my eyes. “But now that you’re here, I’m fine again too. Really, you have no idea how crushed I was without you. I barely left the house.”
I leaned in for another kiss, but Jon went for a quick peck on the cheek instead. I crooked my head to the side. It wasn’t like Jon to deny a physical touch. It was his love language, while mine were words of affirmation, which was why his poems made me fall for him even harder. “Did I say something wrong?”
He took a few moments to respond, gazing up at the stars. “In rehab I learned a lot about what it takes to be in a healthy relationship with myself—and others. And the thing is”—inhaling deeply—“I don’t want you to feel fine because of me. I want you to feel fine on your own.”
That stung. Life without him hadn’t been great. I had been a depressed wreck, bringing back memories of a time in Germany when I had needed professional help, thanks to Papa, Richard and my so-called friends. I gazed out at the empty street ahead. “You sound like Caroline,” I murmured.
“Who’s Caroline?”
“My counselor.” I rested my head against the seat and rubbed my elbows. “Everyone tries to tell me to not be dependent on you, Jon. And it’s not like I’m trying to be. It’s just... your happiness means more to me than my own.”
His brows furrowed. “That’s wrong, though.”
“I know!” A spark of anger ignited. “But you made me addicted to you, Jon! Getting off the drugs was nothing compared to not being with you. I was so empty without you, I...”
I didn’t want us to fight on his first night back. I knew fighting was normal, but no matter how often I reminded myself of that, I still didn’t like it.
“... I didn’t know if you would come back to me.” I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my—or rather, his—sweatshirt.
“Hey.” Jon took my hands and placed them in his. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again. I’ll make up for all the lows, remember?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
He brushed the tears from my cheeks. “Even when you cry you’re fucking beautiful.”
“Stop it!” I laughed, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“There it is, the smile that keeps me sane.” He leaned in for another kiss, and we lost ourselves in each other, feeling the high, until I found myself cradled in his lap with my body pressed onto his.
Jon caught his breath. “There are new rules, hm?”
I sighed. “Yep. No drugs, no lies and no sex until I’m on birth control. My mom doesn’t want me to take any risks, and I agreed.”
He swallowed. “Please tell me you’ve got an appointment for that.”
“Not yet, but Gena wants to call someone on Monday.”
“Holy Schei?e, Little German,” he murmured, resting his head on my shoulder and kissing my collarbone. I giggled at his use of the German word for shit.
He looked up at me with a puppy dog look. “For once it’s my patience being tested.”
“Not only yours,” I said with a smirk, and promptly went in for his neck and sucked at it, tasting his skin, making him groan. I loved his groan; it made me feel so sexy and powerful.
“Okay, no. Get off me, you little rule breaker!” Jon tickled me, and I squealed and jumped back, laughing as I collapsed onto my seat.
“It’s not going to be easy, hm?” I bit my lip.
Jon groaned again, sinking deeper into his seat. My phone buzzed in my bag. Paul’s mom. “Gena wants me to come home,” I reported.
Jon groaned even louder but started the engine. “I’ve got to get used to all these rules.”
We listened to Coldplay on the ride home while Jon told me about the people he’d met in rehab. All cool people, he said, but he didn’t plan on staying in contact because they reminded him of using. When he asked me what he’d missed at school, I kept my replies vague. I didn’t want to kill the mood by telling him that the entire school thought I was sleeping around. His voice was so dreamy, I could listen to it forever.
“We’re here, Little German.”
I blinked my eyes open, shedding dreams. Jon was brushing my cheek. We were already at Paul’s house. “I fell asleep? Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“You looked too adorable.”
“I couldn’t sleep last night because I was so nervous to see you again. I can’t believe I wasted those minutes with you.” I slumped back into the seat to stall for more time.
“Hey, we have time, okay?” Jon said, but the look in his eyes betrayed him. He knew as well as me that we didn’t. There were three months and nineteen days left in my exchange program... not a long time with your one true love. Jon wasn’t like Paul—he needed stability right now, not a move across the globe. I had to find a way to not go back to Germany.
“Will we see each other tomorrow?” I asked, grabbing his hand.
“I’ll come over after my meeting.”
I nodded and got my bag in the footwell.
Jon’s shoulders slumped, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Before you go... there’s something I need to ask, I’ve been meaning to ask, but I...”
“What is it?” I asked, worried about his sudden change in tone. He glanced at the house, where shadows moved through the living room.
I sighed, suddenly realizing what this was about. Jon had become an open book for me. No wonder: he let me read his, and I knew almost every word by heart. “You want to know about Paul?”
“You didn’t mention him, and I don’t know what to make of that,” Jon said, his look pleading.
“He’s all right... I think.” I bit my lip. I didn’t actually know how Paul was doing.
“You think?” Jon raised his brow.
“We’re not talking much. It’s been... difficult.” I wanted to explain but I found myself at a loss for words.
“Did he try something?” His jaw clenched.
“No!” I shook my head emphatically. “The opposite. He’s giving me space. We... we’re struggling to be in the same room... alone.”
Jon’s eyes flicked around. Then he carefully looked at me again. “Do you think he’s over you?”
The words made me choke. “I don’t know about him, but...”
I took a deep breath, gathering all the courage I could. I had made a promise to myself, and that promise was straight-up honesty—even when the truth was messy and undefined.
“I still have feelings for him, Jon.”
His eyes hardened, and for a moment I regretted speaking the truth—but I didn’t make myself small. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but Paul was my first love. He made me feel things, and he was there for me when I needed someone the most. Those feelings don’t go away overnight.”
“So you got back with him while I was gone?” Jon snapped. There was his sharp side.
“No!” I almost yelled. “I kept my distance.”
“Because you were worried that being too long in the same room would make you lose control or what?” Jon scowled, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.
“That’s not what I meant!” I grabbed his hand and looked him deep in the eyes. “What I’m trying to say is: I choose you. I want to be with you. But—”
“But my best friend, who you’re living with, still has a place in your heart? What a great foundation for our relationship.”
Jon’s frustration fed mine. I let go of his hand. “What about Kiki? You can’t tell me you lost all your feelings for her just like that?”
With a shake of his head, he said, “I care about her, yeah. But I have no romantic feelings for her whatsoever. I lost them all the moment I fell for you.”
“Oh...”
My mouth opened, and guilt spread through my chest. Why did everyone have such control over their emotions except for me?Why was it so easy for other people to get closure and move on? What if that happened to Jon with me? What if, as soon as I went back to Germany, he met a new girl and erased all his feelings for me?
Jon sighed. “Let’s sleep on this and talk tomorrow. Gena must be waiting.”
“Fine.” I grabbed my bag and opened the car door. We hadn’t even lasted one day before our first fight.
As I was about to leave, he pulled me to him and pressed a kiss to my lips. “Never leave without a goodbye kiss, okay?” He smiled, our noses still touching.
I smiled too. “Is that a rule for our relationship?”
“One of many to come if that’s what you want,” he agreed, kissing my nose.
And this feeling—being kind to each other even in the middle of a fight—it was a rush, impossible to define. I was alive with hope that we could make this work.
I got out of the car and watched until it was out of sight. Then I looked up at the stars and made a wish.
Our rule number #1: No goodbyes without a kiss... forever.