His Name Is Jake Saunders

I Tell Jake About Growing Up And Leave the Hard Part Out

"Okay, first, I want to know what your previous name was," I asked. "If that's okay with you."

Jake smiled, his eyes up to the ceiling as we lay in my bed together. "Sure. My name was Jackson Jones."

I blurted a little laugh and quickly brought it back just in time before it became uncontrollable. "Your name used to be Jackson Jones?"

"I know, sounds like a porn star name, huh?"

I giggled. "Why did it change?"

Jake turned on his side, facing me, and propped himself up on his elbow; his head resting in his palm. "Enough questions about me. All we've been talking about is me. And although it is my favourite topic, I would like to get to know you a bit more."

"You really do?"

He tapped my nose. "Only a little bit. I'm not ready for full get-to-know-each-other commitment."

I saluted. "Gotchya captain. All on the surface."

"Precisely."

"Well," I shrugged, "what do you want to know? Give me a jumpstart."

"Hmmm," he rubbed his chin like a villain. "What was growing up like?"

I rolled my eyes. "Uneventful."

He pinched my arm. "Come on. Spill."

I chuckled, then took a moment to ponder. I wondered about all the times I was happy when I was young. Playing around and getting into trouble with my brother, Tommy. He more so getting me into trouble than I getting him into trouble; but he'd always take the blame for it. He'd always stand out from the crowd as the funny guy; the comedian that looked and acted a lot like Jim Carrey in his Ace Ventura days. He would make my whole family laugh until their stomachs hurt, begging him to stop for fear their bellies will pop.

Tommy was athletic and fun, not a day went by without him grinning from ear to ear. We went to all the same schools, and we lived happily in Pennsylvania. All of us content in our little bubbles of each of our loves and lives. I wasn't as athletic as Tommy but we still made the effort to go to all his football games. School versing another school; he making team captain, we were all proud of him.

Sometimes I thought my parents loved and were proud of Tommy more so than me, but then they'd make a random act of love that would whip my mind back into shape. On my ninth birthday they took me to a dog shelter and let me pick out a puppy, just because. They took Tommy, too, but all the decision making was left up to me and me only. Tommy loved that I was happy, just as equally as my parents.

My friends were loyal and kind, and we divulged classified boy information constantly. We all told each other when we first lost our virginity, how it happened leading up to the moment, and what the experience was actually like. I was the last to lose mine and thankful the girls told me their stories; I wouldn't have known what to do without them. They were equally infatuated with my brother as well.

He was charming, kind, sweet and respectful of girls; to people in general. A great academic, loved by teachers; and a wonderful athlete, loved by coaches. He'd have his head in the moment and concentrate. People learned from him. There was not a moment in our last year of high school where anyone wasn't proud of him; to call him boyfriend, friend, brother, and son. He and I both were accepted to great schools, him as a doctor (of course) and me as an editor and writer. I wanted to move to New York City and he wanted to move to Los Angeles.

We were set.

It's probably why his premature passing came as a shock to all of us. Why everyone blamed me without word. I couldn't fight the traumatising demons then, and I can't now. Every time I thought about Tommy as a great man and brother, my mind would always lead me into that dark, cold hour. It all happened so fast and yet I remember every detail of that night.

I told Jake about what growing up was like, but I left Tommy out. Not being able to talk about Tommy to Jake was hard, but to talk about him would be harder.