Miranda [Watty Awards 2013]

Chapter 20

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Jack.” Without emotion, without care.

            He stood over Lacy, and I could hear remorse in his voice. Finally. “I know.”

            “No, you don’t know.” I didn’t say it angrily. Instead I was rather resigned, knowing that we would reach a conflict eventually. It was impossible to go without bumps.

            “You didn’t grow up with Grim, jack. I’m not sure if you entirely believe that he exists. I can’t prove it to you. I hope with all of my heart that you never have to meet him, and that’s why I hate that we’re in the United States. This is where he is.”

            He still would not meet my eyes, and I didn’t blame him. I think the tranquility of my voice surprised him, even unnerved him. But when he replied, he sounded . . . sad. Just plain sad.

            “Do you think he’ll find us?”

            I ran a hand through my hair. “That’s something I can’t answer. He basically disowned me. I don’t know if he cares enough to keep tabs on me, but just in case, we should lay low. It’s probably best that we’re here anyway. America is our best chance at getting a normal life.”

            “Normal.” He scoffed at the word. “What does that even mean anymore?”

            I smiled sadly. “I don’t know.”

            For a few minutes neither of us said anything, and we didn’t even move. I was too blind in my anger to see that Jack held regret after all, and I should’ve given him a chance. I don’t say this as an excuse, but Jack may end up being my first love, and to be lied to by him, even at all--well, killed me.

            He took a shuddering breath, and gingerly stepped around the bed towards me, raising his eyes slowly to meet mine. They were lonely, and they shouldn’t be. That was my fault.

            And then he did something I didn’t expect--he broke down in tears, even worse than when I had on the plane.

            I panicked at the sound of his hitched cry, rushing forward to catch him in my arms. I fell to my knees, holding him close, stunned at the sound of him sobbing. Strong, composed Jack, crying like a child on my lap.

            The pain he was showing was overwhelming, and I even though I had cried enough today, I ended up shedding tears for him as well.

            “Alexa, I believe you,” he said, talking in between gasps. “I believed you from the start! But—just—I didn’t want to. To know—to know that somebody else saw what I saw, and more—it hurts. It hurts, Alexa, and I can’t stop it!”

            “I know,” I whispered, more to myself than him.

            I let him cry, let him release all the emotions he’d had bottled up inside. In my own internal conflicts, I had not considered that he had feelings as well, probably as forceful as mine. And that made me feel terrible.

            I used to be cold. I used to be heartless, merciless, nothing but professional, as well as I could be. And now that I was released from that job, I had my emotions to myself. I did not know how to handle them, and I still believe that I don’t. Jack would have to teach me. He knows more than I do.

            It was strange. I’d never considered myself a human before, but rather something from another world, from the reapers’ world. But what if I was human? What if I was human, and there was only a little bad blood in me, the blood of Grim? Was that all that was holding me back?