Not Quite Dead Yet

by Holly Jackson

“I wish you two wouldn’t fight,” she said. Jet shook her head. “That wasn’t a fight. Just a normal conversation. You wouldn’t know.”

Sibling core

“What’s wrong?” He bent even lower, to meet her eyes. “You need your painkillers? Food? I can make you something, anything you want.” “Billy, it’s OK. Stop doing stuff for me.” “I like doing stuff for you.” He always had.

“—I think I’d remember getting and spending thirty grand, Billy. How many lattes and avocados do you think I buy?”

Jet gripped the chair beneath her, her hand grazing Billy’s on the way. He grazed hers back, like she’d done it on purpose, like their hands had a secret conversation of their own.

“Come any closer and Billy will hit you with a sledgehammer!” “I’m not going to hit you with a sledgehammer, Luke,” Billy clarified, the only one not yelling. “What she means is that we can’t stop, and we’re very sorry.”

Major black cat gf golden retriever bf vibes lmao

That song everyone knew. The one about Vermont and sticks. Very popular around here, especially at this time of year, right on the cusp of the season of the sticks.

OMG NOAH KAHAN MENTIONED

I wrote this song a while back, so you might have heard it already. This one’s called For Her.”

OMG

“Sooooo.” Jet leaned across the table to prod Billy in the arm. “That song you wrote, it’s about a girl you like, huh?” She leaned even closer, whispered: “Who is she?”

Girl bye she is so oblivious

He slotted his fingers between hers, held her hand. Gave it a squeeze. “Feel this?” he asked.

Lol he def just wanted an excuse to hold her hand

“You’re so ungrateful, Jet. Always have been. That’s why you never got anywhere.” “Oh, and you went somewhere?” Jet rounded on her. “ ’Cause it looks to me like the only place you went is my brother’s bed.”

CLOOOOOOCKED HOLY SHIT

“I’m obviously coming in with you,” he said. “I go where you go. Best friend shit, yeah?”

“Did TV teach you how to pick a lock, Jet?” Billy shot her a look. “Don’t need to. There’s a lockbox.” She pointed to the little black box mounted against the wall, behind a plant pot, a combination lock across its face. “But I love your faith in me as a master criminal. Let’s keep that energy going.”

Jet cried, balling her fist, a handful of his shirt. Billy bent down, resting his chin against the top of her broken head. Then his nose. Then his lips, pressing one kiss into her hair, staying there, his hot breath down her cold neck. Jet cried. And Billy stood there and took them all, holding up her towel.

“I don’t know, I think it might be simpler than that. I think life is about finding your person, your one person.” He paused. “And you better make sure that they really love you back, so they don’t just pack their bags one night and abandon you. They have to love you back. That’s it, I think.”

UGH THEY ARE EACH OTHER'S PERSON

“You don’t see it?” Billy breathed out, looked at her. “If it’s a frog to you, then it’s a frog to me.” “It’s a frog.”

She only knew because she’d tried to smile at Billy this morning, when he made her pancakes for breakfast. Got up early to do it. Better than fries.

He is SO SWEET

“I’m right behind you if you fall,” Billy said. “I’ll crush you.” “I’ll catch you.” And Jet was sure he would, actually.

“You’ve been in love with her since you were a kid, and you never knew she’s the one who ruined your life!”

“I’m dying, and having sex in a truck was on my bucket list, OK? That’s why I was there.

AAHAHAHAH

Who would have thought, this time last week, that Billy Finney would be her most important thing? Not just poor, sweet Billy. So much more than that. Home.

Because, Billy, this past week, I haven’t really been dying. I think, maybe, it’s the opposite. I’ve finally been living. And that’s all because of you. You showed me. It’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for me, and I’ll never forget it. And I wanted you to know, that it was all you, before it’s too late.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Billy nodded, chewed his lip. “Do you see me now?” Raised his arms. “Yeah,” Jet said, “I see you. Do you see me?” “I’ve always seen you, Jet.”

“You know,” he said, gripping the wheel with both hands, even though they weren’t going anywhere. “I think this has been the worst week of my life, because I’m going to lose you, and I don’t want to lose you.” He cleared the lump in his throat. “But, it’s also been the best week of my life, because I got to spend it with you.”

“Because it doesn’t matter, it was seventeen years ago. Grow up, Jet.”

Saying this about your dead sister is actually insane

You did it. You did it, Jet,” he cried. “You solved it. It was me. You’re right. You got it right. You did it.” “No, Billy.” Couldn’t shake her head anymore. “Yes, Jet. It was me, it was me, it was me.” He sobbed. “You did it. It was me.” Jet smiled. Just half, that’s all she could do. “No, Billy. I know. It wasn’t you.”

Crying omg

“Billy,” Dad said, just that, but Billy’s name sounded strange, out of shape in his mouth. No one said his name quite like Jet had; no one ever would.

Tears stung at the corner of Billy’s eyes. He’d had to do that twice. Hold the woman he loved in his arms as she lay dying.

Omg…

Billy could be loved, and he had been. He kept Jet’s letter close, folded inside his jacket pocket, even now. Especially now, the day she went into the ground, buried forever.

“That I loved her? That I’d loved her every single day since I was a little boy? That she was everything to me?”

“But I’m your son too!” Billy roared. “I’m yours too! I’m the one who was here, who was always here! And you never even saw me, especially after Mom left!” “I’m sorry.” “Sorry doesn’t bring Jet back. She’s gone, Dad. I lost her.”

His chest seized, closing in around his heart, hiding it. It belonged to Jet, always would, he thought. But it belonged to Billy now too, shared, one half each.

But if it’s a frog to you, then it’s a frog to me too. And (I swear) I’ll always play it (I do), Because I wrote this little song…for Jet.