Bumpy Road

Chapter 8

Kathy's POV:

My feet feel numb.

Jesse and I hid under a pier, taking in deep heavy breaths as we tried to calm our racing hearts from all of the running we'd just done. I sat on the sand and took my heels off while Jesse laid his head back on the wood of the pier, and I watched his chest rise and fall rapidly.

I was really lucky tonight to have Jesse close by to me, and all I did the entire night was insult him in my head.

I'm a horrible person.

Maybe that's why bad things happen to me or maybe I'm just dumb.

Jesse rolled his head to the side to look at me, and I froze because he caught me looking at him.

He looked at me with a soft expression, and he walked over to me and sat on the sand next to me. He ripped his shirt, and I looked at him with shock. He grabbed my hand and wrapped the piece of cloth around my scratched arm.

Aww...

I noticed Jesse's knuckles were raw. I grabbed his hand and rubbed his knuckles. I noticed Jesse's stare, but I kept my eyes focused on his hand.

"Thank you," Jesse said.

"Thank you for being close by," I said.

The silence was somehow comforting, and it was peaceful feeling the cool summer breeze and the salty sea aroma around the two of us. After a while, Jesse broke the silence between the two of us.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you lying?"

"Yeah."

"Don't lie to me."

"Okay."

We went quiet again. I continued to massage Jesse's hand, trying to think of something to say, but I couldn't think of anything, so I kept quiet and continued to massage his hand. My teeth started to chatter. If I were a smart person, I would have brought a jacket with me, but I'm not. Jesse noticed, and he took his jacket off and wrapped it around me.

I looked at him, surprised, as he said, "Tell me what happened."

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because I punched a guy for you."

"I spoke to a guy," I started, "and his girlfriend told me not to talk to him," I merely whispered as I gently massaged his hand. My thumb started to run circles around his knuckles.

Jesse didn't reply, probably thinking about how stupid this situation was.

Jesse sighed. "People."

I nodded in agreement. "People."

"Want to hear a joke?"

"It's hard to enjoy jokes when your whole life feels like one."

"Okay. What's your favourite cake flavour?"

Why is he asking me these questions?

I looked at him, and he looked vulnerable and unsure of himself.

"Red velvet..." I answered, unsure of his intentions. "Yours?"

"My favourite flavour of cake is more," he answered, his lips curving up into a smile.

This earned a small smile on my part, and I asked, "Can I change my answer to yours?"

Jesse smiled and asked another question. "Do you like math?"

"Sometimes. You?"

"The only thing I learned in math was that I hate math."

I laughed a little.

"What's your favourite day in the past year?"

"Watching The Brave Little Toaster again after six years."

"Your favourite day in the past year was watching The Brave Little Toaster? You should be ashamed of yourself."

I laughed a real laugh.

"Feeling better?"

I looked at him, and Jesse was looking at me. His dark, messy hair fell in front of his eyes, and he had a self-conscious half-smile on his lips.

"Yeah. Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"Do you hate me?"

The silence lingered in the air. Jesse was thinking about his answer while I thought of him. He has always said that he hated me for the past three years, but tonight has changed things. No one reacts like Jesse has tonight for the person they claim to hate. He helped me when I was in trouble. He ripped his shirt to wrap it around my scratched arm. He let me use his jacket, and he comforted me. People don't do that for the ones they hate.

"Why do you ask?"

"You claim to hate me. If you really did, you wouldn't be here right now."

Jesse sighed and said nothing. Instead, he stood up and extended his hand in front of me. "I want to show you something."

I took his hand without hesitation, and Jesse led me to the end of the pier, and I could see the night sky again.

Jesse sat down, and I followed his lead. I let my naked feet feel the soft waves of the water. Jesse took my hand into his and squeezed it for reassurance. I looked at him, but his eyes stared ahead at the sea. I turned my head and stared at the sea, too, and I smiled, liking the sensation of his warm hand clasped against mine, and that's how we sat, in silence, admiring the sea and enjoying each other's company.

The silence was comfortable—like a silence between two long-time friends. I enjoyed the warmth of companionship rather than the noise of chattering incessantly.

We sat on the sand, watching the water ahead of us.

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too."

I smiled because I know he doesn't hate me.