Ch. 18 - The Reality

I've missed him … so much, I thought as we sat by my bed talking and laughing.

His gentle voice, his beautiful smile, and even his overly intense gaze, that now made me feel way too uncomfortable.

And despite the fact that I knew a relationship with him was off limits, I couldn't help enjoying the comfort that I only felt in his vicinity.

With the task of transforming my closet set to the back of my mind, Jamie and I continued looking through the albums, talking about the people and events that were taking place while I faltered between various emotions as I relived the happy, sad, and, some, downright painful memories.

Just like the memory that I recalled as he picked up a photo of me, Jay, and Brian after their first day at school. It was a fairly innocent photo, with me crouched between the two as they smiled for the camera.

They had both been happy and excited to return after their first day with drawings for their moms and stories to tell, and that was when Jay had asked, as if realising for the first time, why he didn't have a mom to show his drawing to.

It had never been a topic of conversation. He was too young to understand, so there had never been a reason to open such a discussion, but somehow all the talk at school with the other children excited to tell their moms all about their day had gotten him curious.

"I'm surprised I didn't catch on that he was your brother earlier," Jamie said, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Really?" I asked.

I would have thought it was very easy to miss the connection as he, with his white skin and light, wavy hair, and I, with my brown skin and brown afro hair, looked very different.

"Yep," he said proudly as he placed the photo down on the bed and covered over both mine and Jay's faces, revealing only our eyes through the gaps in his fingers.

"You have the exact same eyes."

Yes, that was true. Our one feature in common was almost one hundred per cent identical, though it wouldn't have been enough to make such an assumption without knowing us.

"I used to watch him sometimes and just think 'he has such beautiful eyes'."

Jamie glanced at me before breaking into a nervous laugh that he tried to restrain. "That sounded a little weirder than it was supposed to. I'm not crushing on your little brother, don't worry."

It's too cute for me to find weird, I thought as I recalled the way Jamie would always stare into my eyes as we spoke.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" he asked as I got caught in my thoughts.

"Oh, nothing. You're just really cute sometimes."

"Cute?" he asked, grimacing in an unimpressed way. "I think I preferred hot."

"Seriously?" I let out. "You're not hot, you're just plain, old cute," I said slightly annoyed that he was already transgressing the boundaries of our agreement. "A cute seventeen-year-old," I added.

Jamie chuckled and gave a short shake of his head before looking back at the photo.

"Why do you look so sad in this pic?" Jamie asked after picking it back up.

"Do I?" Nobody had ever noticed that.

He turned the photo back to me and brushed his finger along my face in the photo. "Something's not right," he said.

"Yeah," I said, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by both the memory and the fact that Jamie could see right through the smile I held in the picture.

I'd never spoken about how I'd felt that day, and no one knew that after dropping Brian off at home, where that photo was taken, I went back to my own house and cried until I fell asleep as Jay sat downstairs eating spaghetti hoops and toast.

Jay had asked so many questions about our mother on our walk to drop off Brian and then to get back to ours with him finally settling on one last request; if I could be his mom.

"My mom was a really good mom," I said, letting out a small groan in place of a whimper. "I hate that she didn't get the chance to be Jay's mom, because I don't think I was the best replacement."

"What do you mean?" Jamie asked. "I bet you were a great mom."

"I remember my first day of school," I mused. "I didn't come home to an empty house and get toast and spaghetti hoops for dinner. He didn't even have a new school bag, Brian's mom had given me an old bag he could use."

"Are you joking right now?" Jamie said, the disbelief as clear in his voice as it was in his eyes. "Do you think a new school bag and a bigger dinner would have made you a better mother? Jason's so cool, he's really good at school, and he thinks you're amazing. You should hear how he talks about you."

"Yeah, I know. Jay's a sweetheart, but …"

"Jason's a sweetheart, as you put it because you were his mom."

I paused, silently watching Jamie as he reached up stroke his thumb across my cheek and once again suppressed the urge to whimper. It was too easy to let my guard down and become emotional with Jamie - something I shouldn't have been getting used to. Despite the tempting urge to simply close my eyes under his gentle touch, I knew it would probably be the most regretful thing I could do.

"I'm sorry I …" I let out a loud breath as I pulled myself up. "I should get back to … you know," I stammered, unsure of exactly what I was trying to say, but wanting to put some distance between Jamie and myself as quickly as possible.

I walked back over to where the chest was and absentmindedly began searching through it.

"I didn't mean to overstep," Jamie said, rising from the floor and sitting on the end of my bed.

He continued with his apology, but his words were lost under the sound of my phone ringing - another good excuse to break out of the awkward moment that I had gotten into.

I picked up the phone and saw George's name on the screen. Probably not going to make the situation any more comfortable, but I guess this has to be done, I mused before I accepted the call.

"Hey George, How's things?" I said, trying to keep my tone light but friendly.

I turned back to the chest and feigned searching for an item as George told me that he had come down to visit his sister and would be around until Monday evening. Of course, that meant that he wanted to meet up with me.

I let out an inaudible sigh at the same time giving myself a figurative kick. If I'd known he was planning on turning up randomly maybe I wouldn't have gotten so chatty with him. I knew he liked me as more than a friend, and although I never gave any indication that I felt the same, I had been using his company, be it via texting or phone calls, to fill the hole that I'd felt since the 'breakup' with Jamie.

"Tomorrow would be fine," I responded, maybe a little less enthusiastically than I should have as he went on to question me about how I was feeling and if everything was okay.

Not at all, I thought as I felt Jamie's eyes on me, but of course, I replied with the simple answer that I was just caught up in the middle of transforming my bedroom and therefore a little distracted.

"Okay, no problem. I won't keep you," he said, happily accepting my answer. "Think about where you'd like to go, my treat, and we'll see each other tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," I said and after a quick goodbye, dropped the call and pushed the phone back into my pocket.

I picked up a random book from the chest and flicked through it. It was one of Jay's old scrapbooks that I'd kept for what reason I couldn't recall, but it served as a sweet memory as I worked out my next move.

"That was George," I finally said as I placed the book back into the chest. "You remember him from that work dinner you came to?"

"Yeah," he answered curtly. "I thought he moved away."

I turned to Jamie then. "Yeah, he's in town for the weekend."

"And you're going to meet up?" he abruptly followed up with.

I nodded and gave a light smile hoping to counteract the deep frown he was wearing.

"Are you like … going out with him?"

"No. No, we're just going out as friends."

"But, do you like him as more than that?"

His questions were coming fast and it felt more like an inquisition than just a simple conversation.

"Jamie, we don't really need to talk about this," I said.

"Please. I just need to know."

Jamie had stood up from the bed by then and crossed half of the room; his eyes, which were already dark enough, seemed deep with torment as he watched me, awaiting an answer.

Would lying and just telling him that I did like George help end his suffering? I thought as I looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

"Veronica, do you …"

"No," I interjected, unable to bear the anguish in his voice. "He's just a friend to me. That's all."

Jamie silenced for a moment before asking a second question. "What about him? Does he like you more than as a friend?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Jamie stared at me with a straight face, his emotions locked behind that mask that I knew as one of his go-to personas. "Can you answer me this, please?"

"What?"

"How old do I have to be before you'd consider me?"

He was serious. He still considered himself a contender for my affection despite all that I had said to him."I already told you twenty was the limit."

"So two years?"

"Jamie. You're seventeen."

"I'm eighteen in five months."

Two years? I pondered, feeling obliged to at least consider it. Could I wait for him for two years? Of course, there wasn't a question there. But we could barely get through one hour alone without a conversation like this coming up, how would we get through two years without a lot of uncomfortable and precarious situations occurring? Besides, whereas waiting two years for true love seems romantic and doable in my eyes, two years to a seventeen-year-old might as well be a lifetime.

"Jamie," I began calmly. "You are not going to be interested in me in two years."

"Says who?"

"Says me, and anyone else who thought they were in love when they were seventeen. It rarely lasts, especially when they can't even be together."

Jamie took another step towards me, his calm demeanour matching mine under his hidden expression. "I know because I'm a kid, in your eyes, you think you know how I feel, but you don't."

"I can't wait around for two years to find out that I was right."

"Why?" he said, his voice breaking through its mask for the first time. "Firstly, that would never happen, but ... I thought you liked me."

If only you knew how much, I thought, but, unable to give that as an answer, I looked away.

The silence that hung in the air was almost suffocating, so much so that Jamie breaking it didn't help at all - especially with the choice of words he used to break it.

"Well, that F**king sucks."

I turned back to look at him, surprised at his statement as well as the tone he'd used. I'd never imagined such harshness could come from one who was always so sweet and innocent in his everything.

"I er … I thought you didn't like swearing," I said, unable to brush the new side of Jamie away.

"I don't," he said flatly. "There are a lot of things that I don't like, but they happen, so …" He gave a small shrug, no longer looking directly at me, which may have hurt more than the way he was speaking to me. "Are we done?" he said, gesturing to the chest and box.

"Um, yeah. I guess." I tried to keep my voice moderate, but my heart was aching at his indifference. "I can get Jay to help me put it back when I'm finished."

"Cool," he said with a quick eyebrow raise, and then before turning to leave he uttered, "Have fun on your date."

It isn't a date, is what I wanted to scream, but instead, I did what I usually did when I felt overwhelmed by my feelings for Jamie; I blubbered, just about managing to call out his name.

"I did like you ... I do like you … I," don't say more than that, I thought before sucking in a deep breath. I didn't want Jamie to hurt, but I did needed to find a way out of this circle of emotional torture. "I don't know what to do. I …"

Jamie's steps were quick, and before I realised I hadn't finished my sentence, I was in his arms being held so tightly I wished he would never let me go again.

"I'm supposed to be mad at you right now," he whispered. "Why the hell did you have to start crying?"

Internally, I giggled, eased by the simple fact that he couldn't stay mad with me, but externally, I sighed, knowing the outcome of this hug was never going to be what either of us wanted.

"Jamie," I started, again trying to find the words needed to explain our situation. "We can never be. It will never happen."

"Please don't …"

"And I hate that," I interrupted his refusal. "But that's how it's got to be."

Then there was silence, with the only disturbance the sound of the air in Jamie's lungs as he took slow, long breaths.

"Well, I guess that's how it's gotta be," he said after the longest time. "I'm not very happy that you're trading me in for Bald George though."

I couldn't help but giggle at his reference to George, who was always proud of how cleverly he's covered up his thinning hairline.

"He's not bald," I said in George's defence.

"He's bald enough."

"And I'm not trading you in for him, we're just friends," I said after straightening myself from Jamie's embrace only to be caught by his dark, partially moist eyes; eyes that once held a bright and hopeful gaze, but now held a quiet acknowledgement of an inevitable loss – a melancholic acceptance of reality. "Hey," I said, cupping his cheek in my hand. "You will always be my best boy."

He smiled at that, albeit with a sad smile and uttered a small thanks.

"If you do need me, I'll be downstairs," he said before turning and walking out.

"Sure, thanks," I said, knowing full well that I wouldn't call him back after what had just happened.

I watched him leave until he stopped in the doorway for a moment with the handle in his hand.

"I never should have lied to you," he said without turning back to me. "But I'm so happy for the time we had," and then he was gone.