Nathaniel Jean's Senior Year

13: Nathaniel Jean's New Dream

Instead, my voice seemed to lose itself in the twisted maze of everything I was feeling. My brain was a useless pile of hormonal mush. Only my body seemed to work, and I beckoned Lucas forward. He shuffled toward me obediently, still struggling with the mass of objects he was carrying

Then he, ceremoniously as ever, dumped the pile onto me and hopped onto the bed beside me.

In any other situation, I would've laughed. Now, though, I only stared down at what was around me. The first item I encountered was the teddy bear, which had landed quite perfectly on my lap.

It was as tall as my torso, and when I held it, it was soft. I'd only had a teddy bear once in my life, when I was little. Named it Fozzie after my favorite Muppets character. It had been my prized possession, until Jenna was born and my parents decided they would give her mine instead of buying her one of her own. Rich people, it seemed, were always the cheapest when it came to matters of affection.

Jenna had lost Fozzie at a park soon after. I'd cried for two nights straight.

The teddy in my lap brought back fond memories I'd all-but forgotten. My happiest times, when life was pure and simple. I silently named it Fozzie.

Then I looked at the flowers. Red roses. Typical of Valentine's day. I'd always thought flowers were a girl thing, but when I lifted them to my nose, I understood the obsession. There was something so romantic about being given something so fresh and lovely. Sort of symbolic.

"Thank you," I whispered as I took another deep inhale. I could feel Lucas' eyes on me, and wondered to myself if I was weirding him out. After all, he'd only meant to share with me a nice gift, as boyfriends do. And here I was, hardly talking, cuddling a teddy bear and sniffing flowers like a freak.

Then I felt his hand. It started at my lower back and moved upward slowly, then back down, and I knew he knew. That this wasn't just any gift to me, that it meant something. Even if he didn't know exactly what or why, he knew he'd done something more than raid the Valentine's Day section at the supermarket.

I probably could have spent all day cuddling that teddy bear and sniffing those flowers, but I forced myself to put them aside and turn to Lucas. Somehow, thank you wasn't enough. I wanted to communicate to him how much he'd changed my life—not just now, but so many months ago when he'd agreed to be my link. I was so much better with Lucas Morgan, it was uncanny.

Before I could even attempt to speak, however, he held up the long rectangular box. I'd forgotten all about it.

I took it in my hands; it was velvet, soft under my fingers. When I opened it, it revealed a silver band, hung over a thin chain. Words were inscribed across its circumference.

"Before you freak out," Lucas said beside me, "It's not a promise ring or anything. Obviously it's not an engagement ring. And I know you can't wear it around for the world to see—that's what the chain is for. And . . . Yeah."

I could tell by his voice that he was nervous. Maybe he thought I wouldn't like it, or would think it too much. I would've said something to reassure him, but I was once again caught in sweet speechlessness as I stared at the object in front of me. I loved it. Of course I loved it.

It was so pretty. So simple, but so pretty. I slipped the ring portion over my finger, just to see how it would fit when I could wear it out and about. Like a glove. Then I slipped the chain around my neck. It was so light, I feared I would break it. It felt like nothing.