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To the kids we were, in all its messiness. Growing up was hard. Being an adult is even harder. But we’re still here. Still kickin’.
Here being this uncomfortable chair where life as I know it shatters for the third time in my life.
I feel eyes on me—Shawn. Ivy. But I only have eyes for him. Jeremy.
This scenario is not one I ever imagined. The one with Jeremy walking away. The one with my heart in my throat. The one where it feels as if I’m being physically ripped apart as two timelines converge.
It all starts with a twist of pinkies, a kiss to dirt-chapped knuckles, spit, and a wish thrown at the stars.
“JJ, come on!” Izzy huffs impatiently. Ignoring her, I throw my request out at the star racing across the sky… Hoping. Praying. Wishing… I wish, I wish, I wish—
I’m glad. Her new car smells like feet.
And all I can think is… I found you.
My sister, as always, sounds like a dying cat.
“You’re still my Squirt.” Tiny arms strangle my neck. “And you’re my Crush.” “Always.”
I just know that every time I see him, every time we talk, I wait for his voice to crack—to show me the Mason I know is still in there—the one who’ll sneak away from Izzy and Waylon to come hang out with me; the one who saved me from bullies all those years ago; the one who feels like a secret that is mine and only mine…
That feeling… so vivid, so certain in my dreams. So solid… This kiss was nothing compared to that.
Masonmasonmason—
And everything else just…ceases to exist. Mason Wyatt is kissing me.
Time no longer exists. No one else exists. I don’t even think I exist anymore.
That’s why he looked away. Why his cheeks were red. He’s embarrassed. He pities me.
Let him go. Was he doing that for me… Or for him, so he didn’t have to face me after that? Did we just ruin everything? Did I?
Even if it means never knowing what it’s like to kiss a boy… To kiss Mason. I’d take not knowing over this.
Give something… Like a sacrifice. What’s a little blood for some peace?
We never talk about the kiss. Things go back to exactly the way they were, as if it never happened. And I realize I was wrong—nothing was ruined.
On the surface, everything is as it should be. I should be relieved. I should be grateful. I should be thanking my lucky stars. And yet… Why am I so sad?
Not all of the lyrics, but enough, just in case. I like having them scribbled all over the pages of my journal. Like the words are for me, and just me alone… Maybe one day, I’ll make my own songs, and someone else will have them scribbled all over their journal…
I’m just about to close it, when a word comes to mind. Triggering an image… No, not an image. A memory. My hand moves, drawing words.
Spinning, spinning, spinning
It’s— Blackness. Peace. A flash of amber.
Everything’s accounted for. Except for my dignity, that is. Small blessings.
Mason… My best friend. My hero, always my hero. I despise it as much as I love it.
It’s this moment, right here, that I realize just how happy I am that Mom moved us to Shiloh. I have the best friends ever. Izzy and Waylon and… And Jeremy. I frown, wishing he was here…
And everyone says Izzy is the stubborn one…
Sure. Absolutely. Of course. Who wouldn’t want that? But never, in a million years, would I ever wish my pain and loneliness upon her. Never would I wish to trade places, and snuff out that fire that makes Izzy Izzy.
She sighs, shaking her head. “He loves you, you know.” Everything in me stills. Is…is that what he told her to tell me? My pulse races so fast, it makes me lightheaded, even laying down. “You’re like a brother to him,” she goes on, not missing a beat. “He was worried about you. You know how he gets.” Annnndddd cue images of Wile E. Coyote plummeting to the ground. Only, instead, it’s my heart.
She really has no clue. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so sad.
Fuck up again. And keep going. Letting my self-hatred and spite fuel every imperfect note.
“It’s different for us.” “How?” “It’s not….out there.” He makes a vague gesture behind me. “It’s inside us. The thing that keeps pushing us to create.”
“Suddenly, I had a…a small corner of that world,” —he waves a hand, as if indicating outside this room— “their world, but one that was made just for me, and me alone.” His gaze refocuses on mine, and he taps the headphones around his neck. “You gave me that.”
A little bit more… Just enough for the sting to register. Just enough to be almost too much.
You mean everything to me, and that’s the problem.
My only friend, really. And if that isn’t just the saddest thing ever.
“And you’re mine.” A shiver races down my spine at those three words, my eyes falling shut.
A heavy feeling fills my chest. But you will lose me… someday, somehow… It’s inevitable.
Well, in some ways, I guess you could say we’re cut from the same cloth. Like flocks to like.
And I know, deep down to my core… I mean it. If not for me, for him. Always for him. Because I might not be a hero like him, but he is and always has been my kryptonite.
“Tell me, malen’kiy golub’, do you want to fly?”
What you were doing. What you were eating. What you said last. What you were watching. And the detail that will stand out to me most of all… Is how I went to sleep smiling.
He’s beautiful, even when he’s at his ugliest—a husk of the person I once knew. Barely even recognizable these days, and yet my soul still aches for him, always. More now than it ever has. And I’ve never hated myself more.
For him, for him, for him, I tell myself. If only I could make him return the promise. Vodka. Pills. A blade. It’s all the same. Just different roads to the same destination: peace. He’s such a damn hypocrite.
It’s a divide I fear we’ll never be able to close, and yet one we can’t help but trek across anyway, clinging to the past. To our histories. To hope. To who we were… To the girl in both our hearts, who for all we know, is nothing but a ghost. If there’s a way out of this hell, would we even take it at this point?
I’ve got the boy of my dreams in my bed, and all I want to do is crawl into a hole and die.
I’m sliding Slipping Losing Where are you Whereareyouwhereareyou I didnt mean it, I’m sorry. Come back, please come back
Furrowed black brows. Flames dancing in glittering dark eyes. Stars streaking in a blurred vortex above his head. The ground was damp. Soft. Cold. We’d shown up at the party together… It’s Halloween. There was a bonfire. I don’t remember how we got separated. I don’t remember much of anything.
