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My past is what I've been through, it's not who I am. It has helped mold me, but it does not define me. ~Anonymous
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"You know what?"
"What?" I asked with a smile while looking up at him with me still sitting comfortably next to him on the couch in the living room, his arm slung around my shoulders.
"We should spend more time together."
I laughed. "Agreed."
"When are you free next week?"
I bit my lip. "I'm not sure..."
He waved it away. "You know what, we'll just see to it spontaneously. We don't need to talk about this right now." I nodded. "Not when there are better things to do..." I didn't have time to prepare before his mouth was on mine once again. My eyes widened before they fluttered shut and my lips reacted to his. The kiss was short lived as my phone started buzzing. I pulled away and smiled when his lips followed the movement, not wanting to part from me yet. I gave him a quick peck before I reached for my phone. It was a text from Logan regarding the breakfast.
...
Regarding the breakfast.
The breakfast!
Mentally, I cursed. I'd totally forgotten about this. It was Sunday, joined breakfast tradition day. I got a glimpse of the time before I felt Sam's lips on the side of my neck. "If you don't understand what this means, it means I want your attention, sweetheart, please put your phone away." His lips brushed against my skin as he talked, sending a shiver through me. His words had my heart flutter in my chest. I angled my head away to give him better access to my neck as his warmth came in contact with my cold once more.
Then the time flashed through my mind and my eyes that had slowly closed seconds before, snapped open in alarm. My friends would arrive any minute now, expecting a breakfast I had yet to prepare. "Not that I want you to leave, but..."
He pulled away to look at me with a raised brow. "You're kicking me out?" he asked in disbelief.
I sighed to keep from wincing. Damn, how could I explain this to him without hurting his feelings? "My friends are coming over for breakfast."
"Breakfast?" He frowned. "It's like twelve o'clock."
I gave him a pointed look. "I know," I spoke slowly as though he couldn't understand the english language. "It's also Sunday. You know, the second day of the weekend?" In other words, sleep-in-day.
"And I'm not invited to join you?" He didn't look nor sound particularly hurt which somewhat relieved me.
I sighed. It was tradition which meant if I let him him stay he would need to be here every Sunday. So, if this thing between us-whatever it was-wouldn't work out then..."I don't want them to meet you yet. It's too fresh. Also, you don't know my friends you will wish you hadn't met them once you do." He gave me a questioning look. "They will interrogate you the moment they see you."
He hummed thoughtfully then leaned in close to let his lips touch the side of my neck. I let out a content hum at the delicate feel of his soft warmth against my skin. "And I can't possibly convince you to let me stay?" he spoke against my skin, causing goosebumps to break out all over my body.
"Positive," I answered somewhat breathlessly, my voice betraying my initial statement. When he went to kiss my cheek I turned my head and caught his lips in a gentle kiss. We moved in perfect synchronization, making my heart sore and pick up speed as my form filled with warmth. "I'm serious, you need to leave before they arrive," I spoke lowly against his lips.
He hummed before his lips were back on mine. "Are your words and your actions always in contradiction to each other?" he asked between kisses.
I pushed at his chest, smiling against his mouth. "Sam, I'm serious."
"So, am I." The heat of his lips melted my smile and forced me to laugh. Finally breaking free from him, I quickly got to my feet, avoiding his hands making a grab for me.
"Uh-oh, Mister. You need to go and I need to start cooking," I told him, standing before him with my hands firmly planted on my hips. I was trying to appear stern, but the smile on my face kind of gave me away.
Reluctantly, he got up and agreed to leave so I walked him to the door. He stopped me when I reached for the knob. In one swift move he turned me around and pressed me against the front door. The action tore a gasp from my lips. "Before I go I want another kiss," he said in a low voice just before he leaned down and kissed me goodbye.
His hand found its way to the back of my head, threading through my hair, while the other one had a firm grip on the small of my back, pressing me up against him. His heat invaded my mouth as the taste of coffee fogged up my brain deliciously. My hands traveled to his shoulders as a wave of enchanting warmth hit my body. I savored the light feeling that was taking a trip through my insides like a voyager, soon it would be gone.
My heart was still pounding against my ribcage as Sam pulled away, leaving me breathless. "Bye, hun." He pecked my lips one last time before he opened the door and exited my house.
Suddenly, it was very silent in my two story house, the only sound being the ticking of the clock in the kitchen. As the eerie silence continued, my fingers found their way to my lips, still warm from his touch. Did all of this just really happen? I asked myself, doubtful of the correct answer. Was my mind playing tricks on me again or was everything that had gone down the last hour reality? Were Sam and I... Were we really together? A boyfriend/girlfriend together?
Shaking my head, I made my way into the kitchen and started making breakfast for the hungry mob that would come strolling through the door any second now.
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I want to kiss you so bad
My lips stretched into a grin as I read the text from Sam for the hundredth time in the last five hours. During literature my phone randomly buzzed much to my embarrassment, earning me a pointed look from Mr. Sullivan. However, once I actually read over the message I'd received, the mortification was blown away like dust.
Whenever my gaze skimmed over the words etched into the screen a light feeling settled into my heart that had a smile tucking at the corners of my lips. I felt like jumping up and down at the feel of the warmth in my chest.
"You ready to go?"
My head snapped upwards at the sound of Ryan's voice. I had been leaning against his car, waiting for him to finish in the locker room so we could drive to his place to finish the book for literature. I pocketed my phone and pushed away from the side of his car after giving him a small nod.
The drive to his house was mostly spent in comfortable silence but for the radio playing in the background. At his home I was welcomed with open arms by Rachel... quite literally. The moment I entered I found myself in Rachel's embrace. "It's so good to see you, sweetie."
I gave her a genuine smile. "It's nice to see you again, Rachel." We made some small talk before Ryan excused us and we went up to his room. Putting my bag down next to the huge couch, I settled into one corner while Ryan got comfortable all the way across from me on the sofa.
We started reading soon enough and I was glad to announce that the back and forth between us took my mind off everything for some time. No Sam. No Tori. No Calsey. No drama. Just the story and adventure of the characters in the book. Only their dramas. It felt good to turn off my brain for an undesignated amount of time and let my worries float away as I fell deeper into the story and emotions of the characters.
By the time Rachel came knocking on the door, letting us know that dinner will be served shortly, we were done with a good portion of the book.
Downstairs we were greeted with the sight of Marcus just entering the house. He smiled when he saw me. "Hey, sweetheart." He enveloped me in a hug which I happily returned. "I didn't know you'd be here." During the times I'd stayed over at their house for the literature assignment as well as for dinner, most of the time, I'd grown closer to Rachel and Marcus as well as to Sophie and, of course, Ryan. They were a sweet, close knit little family that made me feel welcome at all times.
"Yeah, the assignment for literature needs to get done," I replied as he took off his jacket and put it on the hallstand.
The three of us went to the open dining room where Rachel was already waiting for us, patiently sitting in her chair. Marcus immediately went to her side and bent down to kiss her swiftly on the lips as she leaned up.
I smiled as I sat down across from Ryan. "Yeah, how's the assignment coming along by the way?" Marcus asked now seated in his chair.
Ryan and I shared a look. "Slowl-"
"Alexander Malcolm Jones!"
I froze in my seat as Sophie's frustrated voice boomed through the house. Ryan's eyes were wide as he stared at me like a deer caught in headlights. Rachel and Marcus were frantically looking from me to Ryan and each other.
"How many times do I have to tell you-" Sophie halted in her steps when she saw me. For a moment nobody moved a muscle, let alone dared to talk. I stared intently at Ryan.
Sophie had addressed him as Alex before, back then I thought I'd imagined it, but there was no doubt now. What confused me was the fact that I had talked to him about Alex.... I had talked to him about himself? Admittedly his reaction had been quite odd, but not strange enough to get me suspicious. I figured he didn't know what best to say in the situation not that he'd reacted as such, because Alex was in fact very much alive and standing in front of me!
I didn't know how to feel about all this.
Sophie's lips stretched into a smile that had everyone known it was fake. "Liz! I didn't know you are here. Nice shirt you got there."
Ryan pressed his eyes shut as Rachel face palmed herself. Did she really think she could change the topic just like that?
"Okay, what's going on?" I asked, bewildered. Somehow I felt lied to by all of them.
Ryan turned to his aunt. "Rachel, I-"
She nodded before he could end the sentence. "Go."
He stood up, chair scratching against the hardwood flooring. "Bee." Suddenly, I realized the reason behind his obsession with my nickname. In kindergarten he had only known me as such.
I mirrored his action and followed him upstairs and into his room. Unsure, I stood in the doorway. Entering his room seemed like crossing a line I couldn't turn my back on once I did. He grabbed my hand and guided me inside after closing the door. He sat us down on the foot of his bed, facing each other, not letting go of my hand. He parted his lips to speak, but refrained from doing so. Instead he averted his gaze to our joined hands and let his other hand brush over mine.
Minutes passed before his eyes returned to my own, patiently waiting for him to speak. "You probably know already, but the boy you told me about, the boy in your pictures, the boy from your memories...I'm that boy." Hearing him actually say it made my heart pick up speed. "My former name is Alexander Malcolm Jones. He's the boy that died in 2002. He's the boy that was your best friend in kindergarten."
My lips parted, but no words came out. What?! Why would he keep all of this from me. "Ryan, wait, no Alex." Frustrated, I ran my free hand over my forehead and through my hair. "I don't even know what to call you." Agitated, I sighed. "Can you... Please start at the beginning."
He grabbed my other hand too. "Okay," he said softly, soothingly. "Just before my sixth birthday my parents had planned a trip to Hawaii. We were going in March, since it was the only time that year that my parents could get time off work." He sighed heavily, his stance slouchy, head bowed, looking at our intertwined hands. Tentatively, I let my thumbs brush over his skin. He smiled a little.
However it was short lived once he jumped back into the past. "We were in the middle of the flight when something went wrong. We didn't know what exactly, but my parents noticed that the plane was sinking. I was six so I didn't think much of it, in fact, I thought we were landing."
His voice had gotten thick and he paused to swallow. He pressed his eyes tightly shut. "The next minutes are... a blur... of terrified screaming and...panic. You wouldn't think I still remember seeing as it happened over ten years ago, but no matter what I do I will always remember."
He was shaking now, eyes still tightly shut. My stomach twisted at his fear, my heart palpitating, veins pumping hot blood through my cold body. I squeezed his hands. "Hey, open your eyes." He didn't seem to hear me. "Alex, you're not in that plane anymore. You're not crashing." Upon hearing his name he opened his eyes, a far away look in them. "You're alive and you're here. You're eighteen years old. It's 2014. You're alive." I let go of his hands and touched both sides of his face, forcing him to meet my eyes.
He nodded, but the look in his gaze told me something different. His eyes were glassy, the green in them intensified. "I am." He shook his head. "But my parents aren't."
A shudder ran through his body as a sob broke free from his lips. Frowning, I pulled him to me. His arms wrapped around my waist as the side of his head rested on my left shoulder, his face partly pressed into the crook of my neck. One of my arms was slung over his shoulders while my other hand ran through his hair.
My skin and part of my shirt were drenched in his tears, but I didn't care one bit, I embraced it. "It's okay," I whispered into his ear. My words only made him tighten the grip around me. My heart broke as his sobs resonated through the room. My heart broke for all the pain and fear he'd had to endure during his childhood, he still had to endure. Suddenly, I regretted asking him about it. "It's okay, Alex."
He clung to me for the next half hour. His grip on me was so tight like I could protect him from the haunting images of his mind if he just held me close enough. He had stopped crying some time ago, but still his grasp around my waist wouldn't loosen. I didn't mind one bit. I would do everything in order to make him feel better.
My hand was still running through his short hair in a soothing pace. "It's okay." There was more behind my words and we both knew it. It was not okay that his parents had died, God no. But it was okay that he missed them. It was okay that he was hurting. It was okay that he wasn't okay. It was okay to be weak once in awhile. Sometimes being weak helps us to get stronger.
"They died in the crash." I didn't know what surprised me more, the fact that he was still willing to talk about it or the sound of his voice. It sounded fragile yet it was strong. I let my other hand rub soothing shapes across his back. "They died in the crash. I didn't."
He loosened one of his arms around me just to wrap it around my upper thigh, pulling me closer. I wasn't sure how, but in the next moment I was sitting sideways in his lap. The close proximity had my heart speeding a mile a minute. It was easier for him to place his head on my shoulder now since there was no need for him to lean down anymore.
"And although I wasn't dead. I could just as well have been." I sucked in a short breath. "I had several injuries. Broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a set of internal injuries. My brain though was something the doctors worried about most. They put me into a medically induced coma to relieve the swelling of my brain and to give my body time to recover from all the surgeries regarding my internal injuries. I was put to sleep for a good two and a half months."
My hands halted for a split second before resuming their slow strokes. Two and a half months! He'd lost almost three months of his life, because of one decision. He was the only survivor of that plane crash, the only witness. I was not able to imagine the hell he'd gone through. The fear his six-year-old self had to go through. He'd lost so much in the span of only minutes.
He'd had everything and then he had nothing.
Suddenly, I realized something. The doctors had put him in a coma. A coma. The dream. The dream I'd had of him lying in the coma. Had that really happened? "Woah, that's a really long time."
He hummed, drawing circles over my thigh and in doing so making my body tingle. I was about to place my hand over his to stop the confusing movement when he spoke. "At first I was mad at you."
"What?" I pulled away slightly to look at him, but he didn't move his head from my shoulder.
"Aunt Rachel and uncle Marcus... they wanted me to start over. To keep me away from the media and all the paparazzi they let Alexander Malcolm Jones die. I got a new name and a new life." He sighed, his warm breath hitting my skin and causing goosebumps to spread over my back. "A new family."
Now the different names made sense, but why would he be mad at me? "What does that have to do with me?" My fingers were still running thoroughly through his hair, giving him a gentle head rub.
"Like I said Rachel and Marcus wanted me to start on a fresh page. They didn't want me to always be reminded of the past. They wanted me to forget you. I was a six year old boy just wanting to spend time with his best friend so of course I was confused. So they told me that while I was in the hospital you forgot about me and refused to come visit me. That's why I was mad at you.
"Because of the many injuries I had and my mental health suffering under all the things that happened, Rachel and Marcus decided it was best for me to skip school for a year. That's why we've been in the same grade since elementary school. When I first saw you there I wanted to see for myself how little you cared about me." I hissed as though physically slapped, I surely felt like it. "And to me it seemed that they were right, because you didn't seem to know who I am." My heart clenched painfully in my chest at the accusation. The bitter truth punched me square in the face, knocking the breath right out of me. He was right. I'd forgotten about him somehow. How could that be?
Then again I did not forget him, if I had then I wouldn't have dreamt of him. No, I didn't forget him, but I couldn't remember him and wasn't that worse? I'd stored Alex somewhere in the part of my brain that was deeply hidden so that even I couldn't find him there. Why though? Why would I do that? Why would I embrace the idea of forgetting my best friend?
"From that day on I kept my distance from you." Understandably so. He'd lost his parents and was badly injured along the way. He'd lost two and half months of his young life just like that. And then he'd lost his best friend too. How could that be fair to a six-year-old boy?
My chest tightened as my shoulders slumped forward. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, pressing him closer to me. I kissed the top of his head as I felt the familiar stinging at the back of my eyes and the tightening of my throat. I'd caused him pain and I hadn't even been aware of doing it and for that I was terribly sorry.
Gently, he pulled away, just enough to look at me. When he saw the look on my face his features softened. "Peanut," he sighed and tucked my hair behind my ear. The gesture warmed me. His own eyes were now dry and not a trace was left of his crying. "But how can you remember me now when you didn't remember then?"
I gave a small shake of my head. "I don't know. Weeks ago, I started having these dreams about a little boy and..." I trailed off, shaking my head.
"But what made you remember me?"
I gave him a small smile and let my hand run over his shoulder. "I guess, you did. When you started to show me your real self, I guess, it awakened some long lost memories. I don't know this is all so..." I buried my face in my hands out of frustration.
"Complicated?" He tugged at my wrists.
I looked up. "Yes," I sighed. I rubbed at my face before grabbing his shoulders. "I... I know that I caused you pain." I couldn't look at him, the words shredded my heart into tiny pieces. Everything I'd ever done was to hurt others and I was so sick of it. I took a deep breath as my vision started to blur and whipped my head away from him, quickly wiping at my eyes to prevent them from spilling. My chest was so tight it was hard to breathe. I turned back to face him, cheeks flushed. "And I know that whatever I say now won't make up for it, but I just... I need you to know that I'm sorry." I mentally cursed myself when a single tear escaped my eye.
My childhood friend cupped the sides of my face gently in both of his hands, trailing the tear with his thumb. "Bee, I'm not going to hold that against you. You were five when all of this happened, six when you started school-"
"So?" I asked, trying to push his hands away. He couldn't justify my actions just like that, it was still wrong. "You were what, seven? I... You were in pain. You'd lost so many people and then I just ignore you? It's my fault, I caused you additional pain and that's not right. It wasn't then and it isn't now."
For a moment, he just looked at me, mouth agape. Then he blinked and things seemed to fall into place for him. "It wasn't your fault you couldn't remember me."
"But still-"
He silenced me with a gentle yet firm kiss to my forehead. My breath hitched in my throat as his lips brushed against my skin, sending tingles throughout my body.
"Bee." He rested his forehead against mine and my heart stopped for a second. "You're making me out to be way better than I am," he said in a low voice.
I looked at him in confusion. "That's not true."
"Yes, it is. In elementary school there was this girl that would occasionally pick on you." He paused for a second. "You said it was Thalia?"
I gulped, but gave a short nod. "I'm pretty sure it's her."
"I didn't stop her. I looked and found myself thinking about intervening, giving her a piece of my mind, but I always stopped myself."
"You were mad at me-"
"That's not an excuse for the things that she put you through," he said sternly. "And it's not an excuse that I just watched her hurting you." I gulped. He'd acted selfishly, driven by hurt. But he was seven years old for heaven's sake. "Yes, you hurt me, but I hurt you too. I hurt you whenever I didn't protect you. I hurt you when I did nothing to help you."
I reached out to touch his cheek. My heart filled with gentle warmth as he leaned into my touch, it pounded fiercely against my chest. For some time, we stayed like this. My head throbbed with an upcoming headache, caused by everything I had to take in. My mind wasn't able to process all of what he'd told me just yet. I was in a state of shock and needed time to think. His eyes-the color back to its normal green-had a gentleness in them that caused my heart to skip a beat as he gazed into mine.
Suddenly, a knock resounded in the silent room. "Um, Alex? Liz?" Sophie's muffled voice came from the other side of the door. "I just wanted to let you know that there's some food left so if you guys are hungry you can just come downstairs and.."
Alex rolled his eyes. "If Sophie is worried she tends to rant about insignificant topics. So her talking about food means in Sophie language 'Are you okay?'."
"Okay," Sophie said. "Just... think about it." Silence followed, endless silence that told us she was gone.
"Are you hungry?" I asked him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"No." He mirrored my action and pushed a few strands of my brown hair behind my ear. "What about you?"
"No." My cheeks flushed when my stomach rumbled loudly.
He laughed, eyes shining with amusement. "Come on, let's get some food." We stood up and grabbing my hand, he guided me downstairs.
I squeezed his hand when we reached the dining room, drawing three heads up. I gave them a small smile whereas the boy next to me averted their gazes as he pulled me along to my former seat. Instead of taking the seat across from me though he sat down next to me, not letting go of my hand. Rachel was gone for a few minutes before coming back with two steaming hot plates with food. "Here you go," she said with a soft smile, placing the plates down in front of us. We thanked her and she squeezed her nephew's shoulder before taking her usual seat.
Tense conversation started between the three and I waited for him to eat. Feeling my stare, he turned to face me. I leaned in a bit so the others wouldn't hear. "I know you don't want to eat and aren't hungry, but just try to eat a little bit. It will be good for you." I could understand him. After crying I never feel like eating either.
He gave me a doubtful look then eyed my hands clasped in my lap.
"You don't eat, I don't eat."
He frowned then turned to his food and pushed a fork full of rice into his mouth. He gave me a look like he was saying 'happy?'. I smiled and dug in as well.
He didn't speak much throughout dinner, but I engaged in some conversation with his family. After I'd talked him into eating he didn't stop until his plate was clean which relieved me to put it lightly.
Suddenly, Sophie jumped up from her seat. "I love this song!" she exclaimed and ran off into the living room. A minute later, I realized why. The music that had been playing softly in the background increased significantly in volume. Ella Fitzgerald's It Don't Mean A Thing sounded through the room as Sophie got back to the table and grabbing her cousin's hand she said, "Come on, Alex. Dance with me!"
A smile tugged at his lips as he followed her to the empty space between the living and dining room. They started dancing and soon enough Rachel and Marcus joined them. I couldn't help but smile as laughter spilled from Rya-Alex' lips as he twirled Sophie around. Half way through the song both of them approached me.
I shook my head before they even reached me. Sophie pouted and grabbed my hand. "Oh come on, Liz. Join us."
He grabbed my other hand. "Yeah, Bee, dance with us."
"You know I can't dance," I said to him.
My response fell on deaf ears as both of them pulled me up to my feet. Marcus and Rachel laughed as they saw the three of us dancing together. Alex took both my and Sophie's hand and simultaneously spun us around. I laughed as I collided with her by accident and she laughed with me.
Another spin and I tripped over thin air and ended up on the floor with Sophie landing on top of me after she'd stumbled over my cackling form on the ground. "Are you okay?" I asked through my laughter, sounding like a suffocating goose. Of course, I landed on the wooden flooring. My clumsiness was on point today.
"Yes." She chuckled. "You?" She asked as her cousin helped her up.
I blew out a breath once I calmed enough to properly speak. "I'll live."
Ryan extended a hand and I didn't hesitate before taking his hand and he helped me to get to my own two feet. I laughed as I stumbled into him, the force he'd pulled me up with too much for my weak body. "Thanks." I grinned up at him and he gifted me with a smile of his own.
We continued to dance and laugh well into the evening. I felt something close to disappointment when it was time for me to say goodbye. When I was with the Johnsons I felt warm and safe. I felt like a part of them and spending time with them made me feel whole in a way I couldn't explain. I felt welcomed. I felt loved. I felt understood without having to talk.
Hanging out with them fixed some of the broken pieces inside of me and gave me a feeling of safety, of the reassurance that no matter how often I am weak it was okay.
I realized I felt accepted.
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Hey guys
I'm so sorry for the long wait, but school and life were on my case last week and everything was a little stressful. Whatever, Alex history.....
What do you think?
Please vote/comment?
Hugs and kisses
Kathy
PS: Yes, Life is Liz is set in the year 2014 although I might be cheating sometime.