Don't be afraid to Jump

Chapter Two

He looks up at me, "Normally you Jump a day or two before a Tragedy, why is this one three weeks?"
"I don't know, I feel like I'm expected to do something, to fix something or other." I sigh, blowing into my coffee which has something floating on the top. I would never make coffee like this. Sam watches me intently, there's something he wants to ask, serious, but he shakes his head.
"Do you want anything to eat, you don't seem to like your coffee?" He asks.
"No, I'm okay. I'm afraid that if I order a sandwich I might find a finger in it or some screws," I laugh, looking at my blotched cheeks and red eyes in the side of the napkin dispenser. I look like hell. "Excuse me." I tell Sam, he nods at me. An instinct pulls me towards a door to the left of me, it is in fact the bathroom and I feel like I've been here so many times before.  I splash some water on my face, then I sit there looking at myself in the chipped and scuffed mirror. I smell, bad. Tugging at my clothes, I pull a face at myself in the mirror. I tie my hair back into a scraggly bun and pull a few strands of hair loose besides my face, I think it looks pretty. Well I hope it does.

When I come back out, I can't see Sam, I scan the room looking for his bird's nest of sandy blonde hair. That's when I spot him, leaning against the counter of the till, back arched, making wild hand gestures and smiling like an idiot. I walk close enough to hear the conversation but without being seen.
"And that's when I said to the guy, who's at least 200 pounds bigger than me,  "Bring it on." and guess what happened?" He looks at the waitress imploringly. The ditzy blonde waitress makes a face of mock terror and surprise.
"What?" She gasps and giggles, one of those giggles, the ones that makes you wonder if there's any connection between her brain and her mouth.
"I beat his ass!" Sam shouts. She giggles again and flutters her eyelashes, she grabs Sam's hand and scribbles her number on it furiously.
"There you go..." She smiles and winks. Sam sees me and straightens up, he puts a note on the counter and makes a dramatic scene of kissing her hand. I scoff at him and storm past him, swinging the door for extra emphasis. Ha. That should do it.
He follows out after me, I glare at him. "What?" He shrugs. I just keep walking. I walk a little bit faster, turning a corner and walking even faster. He catches up with me, "Where are we going?"
"My school." I answer, pointing ahead of me at the towering gates in front of the school.
"To?"
"To see my friends, obviously." I say, that was the first time in a long while I've felt remotely like a teenager.

                                                                              ~
I glance at the clock tower not far down the road in a sun-drenched courtyard full of flowers. School is almost finished and everyone will come out and hopefully I'll see some of my friends. I look over at Sam, draped against the hood of a car, basking in the sun, a hand shielding his glasses from the glare of the sun. I'm sitting more anxiously, perched on the bonnet, my body angled forward, balancing my head in my heads, listening to the hum of the birds. The clock chimes four times and echoes down the road, that's when you hear a rumble, the sound of thousands of feet rushing towards the gate, that hope of freedom.  I see a few familiar faces but not until my class seems to come out, flooding past the gates. I hear snippets of loud conversation and taste the eruption of happiness on the tip of my tongue.  Someone approaches me from behind. I hear a disbelieving laugh, "Kaitlyn? Kaitlyn Barnes." I swing round to the face of Eli Dawson, the one I had admired for many a year as he sat in front me in Algebra. His brown hair falls perfectly, his hazel eyes glisten, probably an unrealistic expectation of what he looked like but that's how I saw him. His guitar is swung over his shoulder and he tugs at while waiting for my answer. I snap out of it. "Yes it's me, I've been here for ages I've just been flying under the radar."
"Great, will you be coming to school tomorrow?"
"I hope so. Along with my friend Sam, he's a French exchange student that I'm escorting everywhere, don't worry about him, he's a deaf mute." I say, trying to smile and maintain my composure. I suck at this whole talking to nice boy’s thing.
Eli, smiles uncertainly. "That's great. Nice to meet you Sam." He repeats in sign language for Sam. Damn, he knows sign language, I'm officially screwed. Serves me right for lying. Sam just replies with a simple "Thank you." by touching his palm to his chin and extending it back out to Eli. Eli does the same in return. He smiles at me nervously.
"Do you wanna go get milkshakes?" He asks me, glancing at Sam.
"How about tomorrow? I've got to do some stuff today, is that okay?"
"Fine. It's a date." Eli smiled and sauntered off. My inner fourteen year old squealed, my seventeen year old self disapproved.
Me and Sam begin to walk off. He looks at me, "You look uncomfortable smiling that much." I smile horribly for him. We continue to walk in silence. Sam shakes his head and laughs, "A deaf mute, really?" "At least I knew sign language for thank you, that's all I'm going to be able to say to him now."
I laugh as well "I couldn't have you embarrassing me in front of my future husband." As soon as the sentence leaves my mouth I fall silent. Eli's going to die. It hits me with blunt force. Sam's gaze shifts to the ground. We walk in silence.

We reach my destination, my old house. I look at the windows, the shutters hang lopsided and the plants droop from lack of care but it looks beautiful, a lazy kind of beautiful, my kind. My parents are in the kitchen. My mum is washing the dishes, her hair falling around her face and my dad sneaking behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, nuzzling her neck, the aura of the television is glowing behind their heads. They look so happy. Me and Sam walk up to the house, I shakily put one foot in front of the other, I'm going to see my parents again, for the first time in three years. I smile and press the doorbell.