A/N: I am really trying my best to send a message with my writing and JUST JACK is my latest effort with the message being associated with Anorexia. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, take the time to click that VOTE button and even if you don't read on, voting for the other chapters will help spread the message of this book. Thank you.
Chapter Nine
Just A Kiss
It's never just a kiss. Two lips colliding, two souls meeting. A kiss is a person's autograph of love- his signature. A simple kiss is a way of bringing two damaged people, so close together that they can't see anything wrong with each other. The sweetest and most eloquent silence is that of two mouths coming together in a kiss for it seals two souls for a moment in time. Kiss me and you will discover my importance. And yet, the questions still linger, always. Is she worth a kiss? Are you worthy of hers?
We drive steadily through the town. My window is rolled down and I rest my arm on the door. A warm breeze flows through the window and rustles my hair. A feeling of nervousness rumbles in my stomach like a growling engine. Roaring. It's my first day in school in over two months.
I cannot help but recall the drive to school after summer vacation had ended. It was like this one, maybe a little worse. Yet, in so many ways it's different. I'm not that boy anymore. Yes, I'm still grieving over the loss of my friend and even my father, but I don't feel the pain that I felt back then. Even as mom, who sits next to me in her pajamas and slippers, drives by the coast, I don't sigh thinking of Chris. I inhale a breath of salty air and smile.
Mom even seems different, changed. She's not wearing her work clothes for starters. She's not sipping on a coffee and rambling about dad and his upcoming anniversary. She sings along to a catchy song that plays on the radio. Whatever's happened to her, I like it. Reminds me of the old days. She looks at me and smiles, still singing along to the song. I smile back and then look out the window.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, turning the down the radio so all I can hear is a faint murmur of the presenter talking. She keeps her head straight, eyes dead on the road. I take a moment to register the question. She hadn't got a serious tone of voice on, maybe she is wondering if I am nervous. Nothing about food or Chris or dad.
“Anxious,” I reply, nervously laughing after I speak. She nods her head and turns a corner. In the distance you can see my school. I brace myself just a little more as we edge closer to it, tightening my grip on the edges of my seat.
“You know, I haven't said it yet but, it's good to have you back, Jack,” She says, looking at me. I smile I resist the urge to cry. No. I can't cry. Even though for the first time in so long my mother has made some sort of connection with me. I started my last day of school with tears, I won't let that happen again. She knows I am grateful for what she has said. My eyes fill with water but I hold the tears back.
Mom pulls up outside the school. I almost feel a little embarrassed that she is still in her night clothes but that was the mom I always used to know, the mom I loved. She pats the steering wheel and few times and makes a bopping noise with her mouth, waiting for me to jump out. I stall for a moment, thinking. The school looks so daunting as a flood of teenagers spill through the doors. Some loiter on the steps, others are sitting on the grass enjoying the sunshine.
“It's good to be back.” I say, breaking the silence and looking into her eyes. I open the door and step out, lifting my backpack with me as I do, it's heavy, filled with undone homework. She stretches her head across to say goodbye.
“Good luck today,” she shouts to me. I walk away but not too far, she call's me back. A few students notice her yelling my name and turn to look at me. The whispers begin. He's back! He's not dead! Oh my God, look how skinny he is!
“You forgot your lunch!” She says, holding a brown paper bag filled with a couple of sandwiches, an apple and a candy bar. There's a few dollars rolled up inside the bag too, incase I wanted anything from the cafeteria. I remember a time, not so long ago, when I would keep this lunch money and save it up to buy diet pills. Today, I think I'll actually use it to buy something.
I look around before returning to the car window and take the bag from her. Without even thinking of it, like it was a reflex, I kiss her lightly on the cheek. Realizing what I've done, as if it was an over use of emotion, I step back from the car. She smiles awkwardly. I haven't kissed my mom in so long, even when I came back from Saint Clare's all I got was an awkward hug. Speak Jack, say something! Students are looking. Laughing.
“Goodbye,” I say, and turn to face the school.
I watch as the car drives away and soon it becomes a part of all the other cars trying to edge away from the school. A cloud covers the sun and I soon realize that choosing to wear a light t-shirt was a bad idea. Goosebumps travel up my arm's and a shiver creeps down my spine like a slithering snake. The sudden coldness urges me towards the school doors, past all the loitering teens with their whispers. I even hear a faint ''Hey Jack!'' as I dash by a group and enter the school.
It smells the same- the school hallways. Its like a mixture of overuse of deodorant from the boys, perfume from the girls, a freshly cleaned floor smell and the ever beautiful smell of an old, dirty gym bag. Its a smell that everyone in Bridge Bay High has gotten used to. It reminds me of the smell from the hospital. The clinical smell, its distinctiveness.
Maybe the hospital and the school aren't so different after all. The nurses are just like the gossiping students. Then again, once I gave the nurses a chance, they were actually okay. Maybe I need to do the same here too. Perhaps the students that mock and tease me, have their own troubles, their own 'Martin Gome'.
I take in the sights. Not much has changed in my two month absence. Nerds are still being shoved into lockers, the janitor is still secretly sipping from the flask that he stores in the hidden pocket of his overalls. There's still that guy that insists on skateboarding down the hall. Yet, something is so wrong with the image before me. Something is missing, something I can't quite place. It isn't until I stroll into the cafeteria at lunch time, after a long morning of classes, that I realize what it was.
Or who it was.
It is an unnerving sight. She sits alone, the power of her red, head cheerleader uniform has been taken away from her. She wears a heavy, dark green coat like what a soldier would wear. Her hair is not pulled up in a tight pony tail, instead it hangs to her shoulders, dark roots showing. What has happened to her? It wasn't but two weeks ago when I saw her on the beach that day, still all powerful and full of taunts. She picks through her lunch relentlessly. Mandy Crenshaw- what happened?
I walk slowly towards her table, my brown, paper lunch bag in my hand. She doesn't notice me until I sit in front of her and drop my bag onto the table. I don't know why I am doing this. She never gave me any kindness in the years that I've known her. Yet, I can't stand to see someone who once had so much control and hope, sitting alone like this. She looks up and drops her fork. She bites her bottom lip, turns her head away and shakes it before speaking to me.
“What are you doing here, Jack?” Even her tone is different. That distinctive preppy tone has changed into some slow, dull voice. It shocks me to hear it come from her.
“Why are you sitting alone? Where is your uniform? What happened?” I ask. She quickly glances to the cheerleaders table where a new, brunette girl sits at the top of the table, a permanent but fake smile on her face. She is frighteningly beautiful, so fierce looking. I notice that she is wearing Mandy's old uniform.
“She happened,” Mandy replies, as if that tells the whole story. She digs her fork into a french fry and refrains from shedding a tear. “You don't have to do this, Jack. I know you hate me and if I were you I would be thrilled to see me like this.”
“If you think that seeing someone in pain would thrill me, then you really have no idea what kind of person I am, Mandy.” This produces a smile, however faint, from her.
“Its probably no consolation, but I just want you to know how sorry I am for the way I treated you. If you felt half as bad as I do now over the way I treated you then I wouldn't be surprised if you could ever forgive me, Jack.”
It's weird hearing her talk like this. She's defeated and she is sorry, I can see it in her eyes. Something must have happened while I was away. She has changed just as much as I have. I take hold of her hand that rests on the table. It's pale and cold.
“You know, while I was... away, I changed, Mandy. The old Jack, well he's gone now. He hated Mandy Crenshaw. He would never forgive Mandy Crenshaw.” I say, looking into her eyes. Her faces drops a little. She's not expecting to be forgiven. “The new Jack, however, believes in second chances.”
We talk through the whole of lunch time, we even laugh about the past. It's weird how for all our years in high school, we hate each other but when we actually get to know one another, we find that we can actually get along. It's nice to see her smile, it reminds her that there is hope. Without even realizing, I manage to consume my whole lunch and use the money to purchase a soda for me and Mandy after the bell rings. I walk her to her locker which is, coincidentally beside mine- a fact I used to despise.
We both stand at our lockers, every so often looking over to each other and smiling. She grabs her books and shuts her locker and then walks over to me. For a moment she just stands in front of me and looks to the ground. I am quite taller than her. She looks up after a few moments and then speaks: “Thank you, Jack. I'm glad you're back.” Pushing up onto her tippy-toes, she lightly kisses me on the cheek, a sign of her gratitude. Like this morning with my mom, when she pulls away we stand in awkward silence until she speaks. “We should hang out sometime.” Before walking away to class, she nods to herself as if contemplating the idea of me. Of us.
*
I wonder what Chris is thinking, wherever he is. Me, best buds with his dream girl. I smile to myself and remember the days when Chris would just talk about her constantly. I almost feel bad in some way. My thoughts are interrupted when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around to see a middle aged man standing in front of me.
“Jack Thorne?” He asks. He hasn't shaven in a while and it could be the janitor but his breath kind of smells of alcohol. I nod, reluctantly. It's home time and I want to get out of here.
“Oh good! I know you've been away for a while. Wait no- first, introduction,'' he shakes his head nervously, I am becoming increasingly awkward around him. “My name is Patrick Lloyd, I teach Chemistry here. I just wanted to speak to you about a club that just opened up. It's called 'The Good As You Club' and I think you might be interested in joining. You might have heard about my son, Jake, while you were away.”
That's where I know him from. Jake Lloyd used to hang out with me and Chris in sophomore year. Haven't seen much of him lately and can't remember seeing him today. We still share a casual 'hello' when we would walk by each other in the hallways.
“No I didn't' hear, what happened to him?”
The man takes the question in and the gathers himself a little bit. My heart skips a beat. I have asked him the question he dreaded hearing.
“He took his own life about two weeks ago. He would always speak fondly of you and when I heard about your anorexia problems I thought you would like to join this club I set up in memory of him. It's for people like you, Jack. And like Jake. He was bullied, a lot! He had problems too and unfortunately he didn't talk about those problems. I want a place where you kids can speak freely. Please consider it.” He passes me a pamphlet about the club, nods and then walks away.
It doesn't hit me for a few minutes but when it does, it hits hard. Mandy. She would always bully Jake. More so than she did to me. It was her fault, along with her gang, that he was dead. She was the reason he killed himself. That's why she's off the squad. That's why no one is talking to her. I fold the pamphlet up and place it in my pocket, maybe I will need it someday but right now I need to talk to Mandy. I need to know if it is true. Looking to the school door, I see her blonde hair and green jacket. She exits the building. I race after her.
The air is cold when it hits my face. I stand at the top of the steps, Mandy is at the bottom. I try call her name, but there is too many people. She can't hear me. I dash down the steps, holding onto the bar as I do but I suddenly stop when I reach the bottom. Mandy is only a few spaces in front of me waiting on her bus but I don't care anymore. Someone else has caught my attention.
Emily stands before me, her hands twined together. She is anxious. Scared. What is she doing here? I look to Emily and then to Mandy. Mandy, notices me and makes eye contact with me. Emily, see's Mandy too and then suddenly, they are both looking at me. Waiting. Choose Jack.
ARE YOU #TeamEmily ... OR ... #TeamMandy ?
Chapter Ten
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