The Girl Who Saw Through Jem

Ellis: Finally Falling [edited]

I checked through all of my toiletries again- confirming I've had everything on my checklist, a pen to tick everything off was held between my teeth as I inspected the contents of my Dior purse. Everything was there- emergency pads, shampoo, conditioner, cleanser, toner- except one thing. My daily perfume. Lula was rambling on about how great it'd be to go to China- because she never been anywhere before. I've made it a personal priority to bring two people with me on this trip- Lulu and Jem.

Lula was like a second mother to be. Lulu had been around since I was in my mother's stomach and had always cared for me more than any other maid in this house. She was there to clean scrapes of my wounds whenever I fell off my bike or cried about getting an A minus in class, or carped about how the other kids couldn't understand my need for constant perfection and how everybody paled in comparison to my intellectuals. Lulu had contributed such an abundance to my brief period of inhabiting this Earth thus far that it was unfair for me to exclude her on something so important to me. Besides, there was no way in hell would my Dad ever allow me to leave the country without an adult- at least not until I was out of the house and living on my own.

And Jem... 

My mind breathed his name, a sibilant whisper floating I chose him mostly because, without Jem, this trip wouldn't even happen. And when I glanced at how he lived, his parents and his lifestyle- I connected the dots that a trip to China was probably the nicest thing anybody had done for him.

My thumb idly rubbed on the capped cover of the nearly empty perfume bottle, thoughts sprinting wild whenever I pondered about Jem. The idea that I could possibly fancy Jem Leighton a few months ago would've been laughable, along with the notion that I would be drinking and attending high school parties, squandering my youth like how all teenagers would, or that I actually enjoyed Jem Leighton's company and no longer associated him with the image of some footballer platoon but think of him as a person of value, with meaningful thoughts and a perspective on life I've never considered.

The beach party from two weeks ago was etched in my mind- a stain on a white shirt that would never come off. I remembered how he tackled me onto the ground and our mouths, noses, faces, bodies, hands were so approximate, chattering in anticipating, especially his mouth. Like they all wanted to do something but a shred of common sense was barricading him from doing anything. They sharpened visibly in focus, from his grin stretching his upper lip scar and his mesmerising brown-green pops of colour exploding from his eyes, how his breath tasted like whisky, cigarettes, salt, sweat and pine and the heat of his body was hotter than the sparks of his cigarette. Having him so close was like holding a butterfly, listening to the steady thrum of his intoxicated heartbeat. Like I was grasping at something complete, and completely alive. As soon as our hearts were superimposed upon each other, I wondered how did I ever manage to go so long without him- and confused him with hate. My head was pressed onto the wet sand and sand mixed with water tend to demolish whatever flat surface of my hair but at the moment I didn't care because I was acutely aware of every broken breath, how solid he was, embossed on me. The air was thin and it was so hard to even digest it.

It was then I realised I was undoubtedly in love with Jem Leighton- and that was why I began to laugh so hard. I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, the levity of the simple perception of me, Ellis Chan, head over heels for Jem Leighton when Ellis Chan had never been head over heels for anyone- not even Brooklyn Daves. But Jem out of all people? Jem Leighton, the bad boy, the notorious troublemaker, the heartbreaker? Jem Leighton, the boy whom I hated?

But here's the thing about it: I didn't even know I was falling in love with Jem Leighton until I was in love with him because there was no such thing as falling in love. There was no falling in love with Jem. It was a gradual sensation, a gradual process; it was progressively slow- but as I learned a new fragment about him, I was amazed how fascinating he was, the depths and the layers I've unfurled over our time together. Yes, he was shallow. Yes, he was antagonising. Yes, he was arrogant. Yes, he was a player. But he was unpredictable and profound and fun and new and exhilarating, sweeping me off into a whirlwind, with touches of melancholy, mystery and a secret aura that I didn't know what to make of but didn't feel the need to figure out.