seven (adam banks)

chapter fourteen

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chapter fourteen: you can hear it in the silence

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Adam beats himself up for not saying it.

Back when they were lying down next to each other on his bed and he'd turned to find her already looking at him with those dark eyes (they're that one shade of brown, the color of chocolate and tree bark and HOME.) He'd smiled at her, because he hardly ever feels the need to do anything other than smile at her nowadays, and "I missed you" had been right on the tip of his tongue but, even before his father interrupted, he just couldn't. He couldn't speak. Couldn't move.

All he could do was just lie there, a weird feeling in his gut.

But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it's because the universe knows that "I missed you" doesn't cover it.

There's that saying, "you don't know what you've got till it's gone", and he never put much thought to it before he lost Jamie. He had missed her more than he misses Charlie right now, more than he misses his television back home, more than he missed hockey when Olaf Sanderson sprained his arm- and he doesn't have a word that accurately describes it.

"Hey..."

Laying on his back in the hammock outside the house, he squints his eyes and turns toward her. She's wearing his old hoodie over her bathing suit and she's got a copy of a book in her hands, her hair still damp from her last swim.

Immediately, he smiles.

"Hey."

"You're still in the hammock."

Adam's brows furrow and he glances at himself unnecessarily. "...yeah. I am."

"It's been ten minutes."

He stares at her in confusion as her hip cocks and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"What?"

"Ten-minute rule." Jamie says as if he's just supposed to know what she's saying. "Remember?"

Adam sits up a bit, the hammock creaking. "No?"

His confusion tinges with amusement as she bursts into this long, winding explanation of this 'rule.' The sun is outlining her features and he cannot really see her face, which makes it hard to take her seriously, though this argument isn't anything serious anyway.

Her explanation goes right over his head.

"I'm not getting up."

The last thing he expects is for her to just crawl on top of him with a huff.

Eyes wide and hands up, surprised by the audacity, he watches her settle down, her back to his chest. She opens the book up without a word and starts to read.

"What-"

"I wanted to be in the hammock."

Adam sputters a few more times, not entirely sure why, before he just accepts it.

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Later that day, when the sun is really going down, Phillip makes a big deal of taking everyone out on the lake.

They pack some sandwiches and sodas into a cooler before dragging it onto the boat. His mom is nauseous the whole time and complains about how the air messes with her hair, and his dad keeps asking them for help and then yelling at them whenever they try, but they find themselves enjoying it despite everything. The air smells good, and Jamie makes a funny face when her hair whips around in the wind.