Like Seeing Stars

8.

Today, Jesse finds it difficult to get out of his Rover.

Not in a million years did he think that he would be pulling up to Squeaky Clean on his day off for this reason. Just walking through the doors without his uniform on makes him feel so out of place, he feels nauseated. A girl sits at the receptionist desk, someone he's never seen before, but he shrugs it off, his gaze fixed on his boss's closed office door.

"Welcome to Squeaky Clean Windows and Pressure Washing, how may I assist you today?"

The girl smiles up at him, her delicately freckled cheeks and deeply auburn hair distracting him for the moment.

"Uh, actually I'm here to see Mr. Dennis," his eyes return to the door as he leans against the counter, "where's Sunny?"

"Mr. Dennis is on a call and Sunny went to inventory... something," the girl smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear, Jesse can't help but notice how long her hair is as it cascades down her shoulders, shining like polished cherry wood, "I'm new here, this is my first day..."

"Well, you're doing great," Jesse smiles and offers his hand, "I'm Jesse. I know I don't look it right now, but I also work here."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Lydia and I work here, too," she giggles, and Jesse catches himself laughing with her. "So... Do you like working here?"

"I do," he bites his lip, unable to stop thinking that this is his last week, "I'm sure you will, too. Mr. Dennis is a cool boss. You'll like him. Are you new to town?"

"I am, I just moved here with my family—obviously," she rolls her eyes at herself, pressing her face into her palm. "Anyways, we just moved here from Alaska."

"Holy shit—Oh, sorry. I mean, wow," he leans back, impressed, "what brought you all the way out here?"

"Eh, you know, life and shit happens..." she winks.

"Heh, yea."

The office door behind the desk swings open and a smiling Mr. Dennis greets Jesse with ever-sparkling blue eyes. If he had a beard and a gut, Jesse swears he would make the perfect Santa.

"Jesse, my boy," he exclaims jovially, "just can't stay away, can you? What brings you in?"

"Good morning, Mr. Dennis," he greets the older man with a smile as he comes around the desk to clap Jesse on the back, "I just wanted to drop in to talk to you about something kind of important."

"Of course—Oh! And I'm sure you've met Lydia? She'll be taking over reception so Sunny can focus on more of the operations," he gives Lydia a wink before directing Jesse to the office.

After a quick wave to Lydia, Jesse takes a deep breath to compose himself. Even now he doesn't know what he's supposed to say. As he follows his boss of two years to the small room in which he was once hired, Jesse feels that this is just another part of his life that he must shed, leaving behind bits and pieces of himself as he's propelled unwillingly into a strange new existence.

Bean bags line the floor of the den. The coffee table turned into a buffet of popcorn, chips, and candy. It was Jasmine's idea to have this movie night, she said that after the day he had, he needed some comfort in his life. Jesse couldn't agree more. Each movie was one of his favorites and there was no way he would go the rest of his life without seeing them one last time. This is the perfect beginning to their countdown.

Naturally, it was also Jasmine that proposed The Countdown. She said it wouldn't be right to spend his last sighted days working and playing video games in Patrick's basement. Though, he will absolutely be finishing his game with Jamie before Friday, not that Jasmine needs to know that.

"Okay! I'm about to hit play, is anyone opposed?" Jasmine surveys the group with a challenging gaze, like she's waiting for someone to put a kink in her plans. "No? Okay great!"

Once the opening credits begin, Jasmine tucks in close to Jesse's side, knocking his shoulder with hers. Tonight, she sits on his good side, and he glances over at her to see her smile wide. It's still there, though, the redness that rims her eyes. The sadness beneath his friends' smiles hurts him more than anything. He wishes he could take it all away from them, tell them they have nothing to worry about, but he knows that's a promise he can't make. Instead, he promises himself that he will do everything to keep them together, that this surgery will not take them from him.

His phone vibrates on the floor beside his foot, his oldest brother's name lighting up the screen.

"Oh! Hey, I need to take this. You guys keep watching, I'll be right back."

He can hear Jasmine's protests and as he rounds the corner to the kitchen the opening score goes silent; she'll forgive him for the interruption.

"Hey, Ryan," Jesse can't help but smile.

"Hey, kid, what's good? You doing okay?"

The sound of his brother's voice calms him, like someone turned a key between his shoulders to release all the tension. "I'm alright—" he stutters, unsure of where to go from there, he hasn't told him yet and if he's being honest, he doesn't want to. It's not often he gets to talk to Ryan; he doesn't want their first conversation in a month to be this one. "How are you?"

"I'm—I'm great," a pregnant pause sits between them, "look, Jess, Mom told me—"

"What? I told her not to—"

"Does it really matter? I asked her. I knew you had an appointment yesterday. Listen, I just want you to know that I'm here for you. No matter what, kid. We need to be able to talk like we always have because you can't go through this alone."

Eyes shut tight, Jesse presses himself back into the corner between the pantry and the refrigerator. When he was small, he would press himself into this very same corner to hide from his sister and jump out to scare her, now it's not his sister he wants to hide from.

"Let's start now, talk to me. Whatever it is that you won't say to anyone else, say it to me. I can take it. Yell at me, cry to me. Come on, kid. Get it out."

For a moment, Jesse considers what he should say and realizes that's what he's been doing wrong this entire time.

"You sure," he whispers.

"I've got thirty minutes of phone time and it's all yours. Let's do this."

Quietly, he slips out the sliding glass door into the backyard. Instead of weighing his words to ensure the comfort of those around him, he lets go. Anything that filters into his mind is released from his tongue. Every fear, every disappointment, and every ounce of sadness he'd been harboring for the past twenty-four hours is released into the universe.

And with that, the dream-like state in which he's been wandering, fades into the rigidity of reality.