Ch. 19 - Three Minutes

As weeks turned to months, being friends with Jamie got easier while remaining unpredictable with the odd sprinkle of discomfort.

Jamie still made the occasional inappropriate comment despite the amount of times I'd told him to stop, and he occasionally referred to me as beautiful, again, despite my complaints. Regardless, he was becoming an almost staple in my week and was most likely the subconscious reason I had put a complete stop to George's advances, though our friendship was also a lot closer than it had been.

I'd even taken to sitting with Jay and his friends as I did before when it was only Jamie and Brian anyway. Brian was practically a second little brother to me and there was no worry that our relationship would slip down an unwanted path. Also, as another condition to our 'friendship', I had asked Jamie to tell his mother that I was Jay's sister. I couldn't condone being around him while knowing that his mother thought he was spending time with his male friends only.

Why I constantly felt like a villain, wasn't wholly clear to me - it wasn't as if anything was going on between us for me to feel guilty about. It was true though, that my mind was often my greatest enemy and was always quick to play the worst-case scenario in any interaction. Not to mention that the persistent internal reminder of my innocence was much too telling for me to admit - such as how the sight of Jamie's trainers lying among Jay and his friends' footwear warmed my insides when I came home one evening.

I was aware of the anime evening they had been planning, and due to work projects, and knowing I would most likely return late and sleep early, I was happy to leave them to it.

I called a greeting through to them as I discarded my shoes and coat, and then made my way upstairs. I'd already eaten at the office, so the first thing I needed now that I was home was to freshen up and then make myself a hot cup of tea, which is where my mind was and not on the fact that only Brian, Jay and two other friends had responded to my greeting.

After a quick shower, I dressed in my comfy pyjamas and back downstairs to make my tea. It was to be an in-and-out job – tea, biscuits and back upstairs, but I was stumped by the sight of Jamie, lying face down on his arm on the dining table.

"Jamie?" I called softly as I approached.

He didn't stir.

He must be tired, I thought and wondered why he had come for a boy's night in only to fall asleep by himself in the kitchen.

Still, I didn't want to disturb him, so I quietly busied myself with filling the kettle, boiling the kettle, and pouring the water into the cup, all the while stealing glances at him as he slept, wrestling with the dilemma of whether to wake him or not.

Slowly I stirred the cup, removed the spoon and placed it into the second cup to stir. Then I froze, and stared at the second cup of tea, that I had subconsciously prepared before my eyes flickered over to Jamie.

Well, that's fate, I guess, I told myself as I carried the teas over to the table and pulled up a seat next to Jamie.

"Hey," I said, tapping him gently on his shoulder.

Jamie let out a small groan, his eyebrows dipping slightly before eventually opening his eyes.

It took a few seconds before he registered who was watching him then his lips curled into a small smile.

"You ok, Sleepyhead?" I asked when he'd straightened up in the seat.

He groaned a second time while swaying his head from side to side, conveying a gesture of lukewarm indifference.

"What's up?" I asked and pushed the tea I'd made him closer to him.

"Thanks," he said with a warm smile before lifting his phone slightly. "It's nothing, just my mom. Well … my dad."

"Oh." I wasn't sure how to respond to that, in the last conversation we'd had about his parents, he'd told me he hadn't spoken to his dad for a while, and it was clear whatever it was now wasn't good news.

Jamie took hold of my hand and pulled it in front of him before resting his head back down onto his folded arms, with my hand nestled underneath.

"Don't tell me to stop," he said before resting his forehead on my hand.

"Jamie," I said in a small protest.

"Veronica," he cut. "Could you just pretend you love me for a few minutes?" he said softly from beneath where his arm lay.

"Pretend?" I asked, hoping I simply sounded curious.

He peeped up over his arm for a moment, locking his gaze with mine.

"Then could you pretend there wasn't anything stopping you from loving me?"

I furrowed my eyebrows deeply, not comfortable with what he was asking, but all it took was that one simple word – 'Please' - and I knew I couldn't deny him.

I sighed and nodded gently, eliciting a sweet smile from him before he nestled his head back into his arms, allowing his hair to cascade onto the table.

Well, we're making-believe right now, aren't we? I reminded myself as I reached out and scooped a lock of his hair into my hand, curling it around my finger before tucking it behind his ear.

"What happened?" I asked as I continued to stroke his hair, twirling it, and tucking it.

Jamie adjusted his head slightly until his eyes were visible and his cheek rested on my hand that was still kept captive under him.

"My dad reckons I should go and stay with him and his girlfriend at the beginning of summer break," he said solemnly.

"I take it you don't want to go," I said, already knowing the answer as his brow furrowed deeply.

"I don't want to be anywhere near that … my dad," he said quickly adjusting his choice of words. "Or that .. you know ... woman that he's with."

I shuffled my chair closer to him and leaned forward to rest my head on my arm; the same arm he had tucked in with him.

"Hey, Beautiful," he said after a full smile enveloped his face.

"Hey, Cutie," I replied.

Another groan from Jamie. "Don't call me cute," he said.

"But you are cute. Cute Jamie."

"Veronica," he said, his smile dropping slightly. "Come on."

"Fine, " I laughed. "You're still cute, but I guess you're kinda hot too."

That was easy enough to replace his smile, but, hoping to get a laugh, I added, 'Hot Jamie'.

Jamie let out a loud chuckle, just as I had hoped, and I giggled along with him.

"You didn't tie your hair up," I said as I began combing my hair through his hair again.

"I didn't know you were here, but honestly, I'm glad I didn't."

"Yeah," It would have been a shame to miss out on this. "So, about your dad," I said getting back to the reason he was upset in the first place. "Do you have any say in the matter?"

"Well, you know how my parents are; my dad nags my mom until she breaks and then she freaks out and gets on at me about him, and then I feel bad and just go along with him so he'll stop stressing her out. Works like clockwork," he added sarcastically.

Wow, that's some pressure to have to deal with.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Jamie watched me silently for a moment before answering.

"Could you unblock me on your phone? I have to meet with him at the weekend to discuss it. It'd be great if I could contact you … just to talk, nothing else."

"It's fine," I rushed before he felt the need to explain even further. "Of course, I'd do that."

Jamie smiled and straightened up in his seat again, intertwining his fingers into mine on the hand he still held.

"You're the best, you know?" he said.

I shook my head as I too sat up to meet his level. "It's really the least I can do, Jamie. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yeah, friends," he said, sounding a little rejected and then after an overly thoughtful gaze he continued. "Do want to play a game?"

"A game?" I asked, confused by his sudden change in conversation.

"It's a game my mom made up, she calls it three minutes."

My confusion clearly etched itself onto my face as I tried to figure out what kind of game it was just as he continued to explain.

"Basically, I set my timer for three minutes," he said pulling out his phone and setting it on the table. "And for those three minutes, we can ask whatever we want and we have to answer 100% honestly."

That doesn't sound like a mom game. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"No, but listen .. the key is that after the three minutes, we're never allowed to mention whatever the other person said, unless they want to talk about it again, of course."

"Ah, there's the catch."

"Yeah, I bet my mom regrets that part with all the stuff I've told her," he laughed, a little too heartily at his admission. "So?"

"I don't know, I feel like it might …"

"What's there to lose," he interrupted. "Three minutes and then I won't say another word about whatever we talk about."

I sighed, trying to determine if he wanted to tell me something or if he wanted to know something from me. I couldn't handle any more confessions from Jamie, but as if knowing I was practically putty in his hands when it came to giving in to his requests, he set his timer for three minutes and held his finger over the start button.

"Shall I?" he said to which I gave a nod.

"Okay, you ask first," he said after starting the timer.

"Me first?"

That, I wasn't expecting. It wasn't as if I had questions that I wanted answers to, in fact, the fewer answers I got the better it was for me and the easier it was to cope with our situation.

Jamie tilted his head in expectation so I blurted out the first thing that came to my head.

"Why did you lie to me?"

Jamie laughed. "Seriously, that's your question. I told you already, it wasn't intentional it just kind of happened."

I nodded. It was pretty stupid, probably a better one, although equally as stupid, would have been why the hell wasn't he born at least ten years earlier.

"Okay, my turn," he said before clearing his throat. "Are there any guys, who aren't me, that you're interested in?"

Who aren't you? I thought giving a small laugh. Confident.

"No," I answered truthfully. "What about you?" I asked.

"No chance," he said as a content smile made its way onto his lips. "So, what about George? What's going on between you two?"

"Nothing at all," I answered candidly.

"You said he liked you!"

"I said that …" Wait, I thought stopping abruptly. "Hey, isn't it one question?"

Jamie laughed but denied that that was a rule.

"Well, I think from now on, it should be."

"Fine, fine," he rushed. "You ask."

"Okay, curious," I said, feeling the need to justify my question before asking it. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Jamie shook his head.

"Urgh," I let out as I dropped my head into my hand, that had been something that plagued me. "So, that means … the kiss ..?"

"One question," Jamie laughed before adding, "Yeah, it was my first."

"Why does that make me feel worse?"

"Cos you worry too much," he laughed. "I certainly didn't mind giving my first kiss to you."

"Stop!" I said quickly pressing two of my fingers onto his mouth. "You ask something."

"George," he immediately said after I removed my fingers. "Did he … er.. make any advances on you?"

"Why are you saying it like that?" I said referring to his unusual tone and word choice.

"I'm being polite."

"Well," I started trying to think of the best way to explain it. "Not exactly."

"No. You have to elaborate."

"Fine. He may have said some stuff, but nothing happened, and I really don't want to say what he said. Why are you so obsessed with George?"

"Is that your question?"

"Yes."

"I'm not," he said plainly. "I just don't want you to go out with him."

I didn't ask why and just gestured to him to ask his next question.

"Do you like me?"

The abrupt question took me by surprise, momentarily disrupting my train of thought. "You know I like you."

"I don't mean like that I mean like, how much do you like me?"

I should have guessed Jamie wouldn't suggest a truth game just to tell me something, he doesn't know when not to say uncomfortable things. It was clearly all for this question.

"I can't answer that," I said.

"You have to."

"I can't"

"So answer this, if ten is complete love, eight is like a solid crush and six just means you think I'm hot, where would you put your feelings on the scale?"

That wasn't any easier to answer.

"We'll start with six," he said when I didn't respond. "Higher or lower?"

"Easy, higher," I answered.

"Seven?"

"Higher."

"Eight?"

"Come on, I've answered."

Jamie's face held the most serious look I've ever seen on him as if he held some stakes that depended on the answer. "You didn't answer the original question, so this is like a forfeit."

"Is that really how this game goes?"

Jamie shrugged. "I never refuse to answer."

"What's your question?" I said, deciding to comply with his rule.

"Eight? Higher or lower?"

I broke from his gaze, unable to give a straight answer. I had been hoping he'd just switch to a different question altogether. "Why so persistent?" I mumbled taking a glance back.

Jamie was staring back, his eyes narrowed and his lips slightly parted as if suffering from a momentary loss of words as the sides twitched with the hint of a smile.

"What about nine?" he eventually said as if taking my lack of answer to mean higher.

Of course, it did, and I dropped my mouth wishing I could answer in the negative, but again the answer stuck.

Jamie's eyes searched deeply into mine as if hoping to uncover the answer. He may or may not have found the answer he was looking for, but regardless his eyes fell to my lips. As if under a spell, I mirrored his action and dropped my gaze to his lips, subconsciously biting down on my own as I resisted the urge to lean forward. There we stayed for what felt like an eternity but must have only been a few seconds before the sound of Jamie's alarm broke the spell.

Quickly I turned away from him and pulled myself back into my seat.

"Can I .. have my hand back?" I asked, only realising then that he had been holding it all that time.

Jamie let out a heavy breath, lifted my hand in his and pressed it against his cheek before letting go.

"Just one last question," he said.

"No, times up," I said giving my best smug smile.

"It's not like that," he said and continued after I gave a small nod. "How are you so controlled?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your eyes say something very different to how you act," he said.

I lowered my head momentarily, acknowledging the tumult of emotions within me. In those last few minutes, my feelings had almost spiralled out of control, and, true to form, Jamie offered no help. Instead, he drew nearer, gently pressing his forehead against mine.

I pressed my eyes closed and gave an inaudible groan before answering his question.

"With effort," I uttered, pulling away and rising from my seat. "Your tea's getting cold," I said before picking up my cup and leaving the kitchen.

I headed back to my room where I fell face-up on the bed and pressed the hand he'd been holding against my forehead as my heart beat wildly out of control.

I guess I hadn't been completely honest with myself. Being friends with Jamie was becoming easier, but remaining just friends was becoming increasingly challenging and burdensome.