3. Jax
JAX
S ix weeks later …
I hate my life.
My classes have finally started, and there’s only one word to describe it— hell .
It’s been a week and I already feel like I’m suffocating.
I knew I was going to hate it, but I wasn’t prepared for just how much.
It’s bullshit. This isn’t me. I’m only doing this because I crave my parent’s acceptance.
That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ll never understand why I’m not enough for them.
As soon as I enter my apartment, I drop my backpack on the floor, kicking it across the room in frustration. I feel lost … trapped. In a world I despise. I exhale forcefully as I flop down onto the sofa. How am I going to survive four more years of this bullshit?
My thoughts move to Candice. My pink-haired angel.
I need her. I miss her so much I ache inside.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I scroll through my contacts for her number.
I’ve done this a million times since I left—it’s a constant battle not to reach out.
Not a day passes that I haven’t wanted to speak to her …
I yearn to hear her voice. I’ve written countless texts but never had the guts to send them.
What can I say? I’m sorry I left the way I did …
I’m sorry I never said goodbye … I’m sorry I’m such an arsehole?
I’m sorry I took your virginity and ran like a coward.
That last one is what stings the most. She deserved so much more than what I gave her. So much more.
My finger hovers over her number, but, like always, I can’t go through with it.
I’m a gutless prick. Flicking my thumb across the screen, I move down my list of contacts until my parents’ number appears.
I’ve had no word from them since I’ve been here.
They were probably glad to see the back of me if I’m being honest.
This time I don’t hesitate. My mother picks up after three rings.
“Hello, Mother.”
“Oh … Jaxson. Hi. How’s university?” The unenthusiastic tone in her voice lets me know she’s not over the moon to hear from me, her own son. I don’t know why I let this bother me, but it does. It always does.
“Honestly, I hate it.”
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Because it’s the truth. I’m not cut out for this life, Mum.”
“Jaxson,” she sighs. “When are you going to grow up? You’re an adult now, act like one. Your father and I have bent over backwards to give you and Brent a good life.”
“You’ve bent over backwards to give me the life you want me to have, not the life I want. There’s a difference.”
“We’ve given you everything—a nice home, a great education, a future—and this is the way you repay us?”
“I appreciate everything you’ve given me. I just wish I had a say in what I study. I’m not cut out to be a politician. It’s not what I want.”
“Huh. What you want. Enough with this constant whining! Your father is a politician, and a damn good one. Is it too much to ask for his sons to want to follow in his footsteps? You should be proud. You should aspire to be the type of man your father is.”
“A bully?”
I hear her gasp. But it’s true, my father is a horrible man. He’s self-centred, callous and nasty. I would never aspire to be anything like him.
“How could you say such a thing? You ungrateful—” She pauses. I don’t know why, I’m not unaccustomed to her insults. “Where did we go wrong with you, Jaxson?” She blows out a puff of air before inflicting her final blow. “You’re a constant disappointment to this family.”
And there it is, she always has to throw that one in. My parents may be disappointed in me, but it’s a two-way street. “Thanks. As always, your compassion and belief in me is astounding. I’ve got to go.”
I ended the call without waiting for her reply. I was stupid to think I could talk to her, or that she’d understand.
I toss my phone onto the coffee table. I’ve done everything they’ve ever asked of me.
I worked hard at school and always received good grades.
I tried my best to stay out of trouble. I attended all their fucking functions with a smile, albeit a forced one.
I even wore a damn suit and tie and acted like the perfect son as expected. So how exactly am I a disappointment?
I need a drink.
I grab a glass from the kitchen cupboard and my bottle of Jack Daniels off the benchtop.
Unlike my parents, good old Jack never lets me down.
We’ve become very well acquainted since I’ve moved here.
Especially in the first few days. It almost killed me to get in my car and drive away from Candice after our night together.
Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
But in the end, I knew it was what I needed to do.
We can never undo what we did … like my family, she’s better off without me.
Filling the glass halfway, I down the whiskey in two gulps.
I welcome the burn of the amber liquid as it slides down the back of my throat.
I don’t hesitate to refill the glass—I need to be numb.
I don’t want to feel anymore. It hurts too much.
I have studying to do tonight, but fuck it, it can wait.
I lean back into the sofa, resting my head on the cushion. There’s got to be more to life than this.
My eyelids flicker open when my phone dings beside me.
Nobody texts me anymore, so I have no clue who it could be.
Besides, it’s the middle of the night. I reach for it and squint my eyes when I click on the screen and the bright light aluminates the dark room.
The moment I see Candice’s name on the screen, I bolt upright.
My heart starts to race as a smile tugs at my lips.
My angel. She has no idea how much I needed this … needed her , right now.
I open her text straight away, but as soon as I do, my heart sinks.
Candice: I’m so disappointed in you. You are not the person I thought you were.
Whoa. Is this some kind of sick joke? I double-check the number to make sure it’s really her.
There’s no mistake, it’s from Candice all right.
That’s something my mother would say, not my Candylicious.
And after my phone conversation with her earlier, it’s eerie that Candice would send those exact words to me now.
I sigh as I flop back down onto the mattress.
We’ve had no contact in over a month and this is all I get? I guess I deserve it after what I did.
Me: It was only a matter of time before that happened. Disappointing people is what I do best.
As soon as I send my reply, I sit back up, swing my legs over the side of the bed and turn on the lamp, before reaching for the bottle of Jack.
I don’t even bother with a glass this time.
I can’t believe out of all the things Candice could’ve said to me, she chose that.
Maybe they’re all right. Maybe I am a disappointment.
When my phone dings again, I’m hesitant to read her message.
Candice: Wow. I’ve heard nothing from you for all this time, and that’s the response I get.
Me: Yep. That’s the best I’ve got. I don’t have time for this bullshit.
Candice: You’re a thief! You stole my virginity and ran like a coward.
Me: I didn’t take anything that wasn’t offered up willingly, sweetheart.
I press send, feeling sick to my stomach as I do.
As if things weren’t already bad enough.
There are a million things I could’ve said instead, sorry being at the very top of the list. What in the hell is wrong with me?
This is not how I wanted my first contact with her, after all this time, to go down.
I drop my arm, letting it dangle between my spread legs.
A few seconds later I get another ding. I should ignore it, but I don’t.
Candice: Fuck you, Jaxson Albright. I hate you!
‘Fuck!” I scream as I throw my phone across the room.
Two weeks have passed, and I’ve heard nothing further from Candice.
I sent her a text the day after she contacted me that simply said, I’m sorry .
She never replied. I don’t blame her. She has every right to be disappointed in me.
If I hadn’t spoken with my mother before receiving Candice’s message, I would never have replied the way I did.
But that’s no excuse. Maybe I’m more like my old man than I think.
After class, I head to the supermarket to pick up some groceries.
As I’m passing a jewellery store, a necklace in the window catches my eye.
The bottle-shaped pendant has a pink-jewelled heart inside.
Not only does the colour of the stone remind me of Candice—her hair, her favourite Converse sneakers, her bedroom—but the heart in the bottle symbolises so much more to me.
My true feelings for Candice are something I’ve always kept bottled up deep inside.
This necklace is an omen, the push I need to make things right between us. Without hesitation, I go into the store and buy it. If nothing else, I want her to have it. A keepsake. It’s important that she knows how much she means to me.
Putting myself out there isn’t something I’ve ever done. I ended up carrying the necklace around in my wallet for almost two weeks. It taunted me the entire time, to the point where I could no longer take it.
That’s when I decided to write her a letter.
Originally, it was going to be something along the lines of, “Hi, I’ve missed you.
I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,” but once I put pen to paper, I ended up pouring my heart out.
I told her everything. My feelings, my fears, my insecurities.
I’d never been so open and honest with anyone, not even myself.
It takes me another few weeks to gain the courage to post the letter, but when I finally do, I feel lighter than I have in years. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain .
Well, that was what I was stupid enough to believe.
The letter arrived back two weeks later with a cross through her address and return to sender written on the front of the unopened envelope.
I was shocked. I couldn’t believe she’d return the letter unopened.
I can’t even put into words how that made me feel.
It’s not the response I’d hoped for, but it told me everything I needed to know.
We were finished. I’d lost the most important person in my life.
I’m not going to lie, it almost broke me.
To say I’m crushed, devastated, or even heartbroken, would be an understatement.
As much as it kills me, I know I have to forget her and try my best to move on. I hate myself for the way things have turned out. One incredible moment has ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me: Her . My angel, my Candylicious.
At least I got to love her the way I’ve always wanted to, even if it was only for a few hours.