Chapter 11 - Alyssa now.
The window is steamed up with rain water as I am shaken awake. Shaken awake by my phone ringing. I look around to see that my coat is still wrapped around me, my shoes are still on, my books are all over my bed.
It feels like my soul is detached from my actual body as I feel around under the books and papers and quilt for my phone. When I am able to see properly through my blurry vision after blinking numerous times, I see the word J A C K on the screen.
And last night comes rushing back to me, where I stood out in the rain for ages, not even knowing what to do with myself but wanting to call someone I knew. And Jack came before Katy and Niall and Reina and Zara, because the letter J comes before K and N and R and Z so I decided to call him. But I never got through.
And now he's calling back? Now that it suits him, or he just feels like calling me back now because he is bored? I know what peoples' minds are like and I don't trust boys any more.
But I still answer.
"Hi," I say, rather hoarsely and sleepily.
Silence for a few seconds - short, but long enough to be acknowledged.
Then, "Uh- hey. Did you try to call me last night? I'm sorry, I was asleep. I only saw it now."
I wonder if that's a lie.
I wonder how much Jack Hart lies on a regular basis.
I wonder how much every boy lies.
As I run a hand over my face, and I'm sure he's getting impatient, I feel dry tear stains. It brings back yesterday and all the feelings woven in with yesterday and it makes me want to cry. And I do. As I talk to him, the tears roll silently over my cold cheeks.
"It's okay," I whisper, my voice wavering. The truth is I don't know why I called Jack Hart. It couldn't be just because J comes before all the other letters that my friends' names begin with. Most girls would call their mother. Jack is not my mother.
Do I trust him more than my own mum?
"So what's that big old place like? Everything going okay?" His voice is so soft and tender and gentle and soothing that I have to bite my tongue from letting out a cry. I hold the phone away from me and take a big sniff, before putting it back against my ear.
I begin to nod, even though he can't see me. And I open my mouth, to say yes. I don't want to say yes though... I have to let someone know what I'm feeling. It's so vital. It's vital, now.
"I'm . . . I'm going to come home for the day."
"What? Why? Aren't you gonna miss everything-"
"Yeah, but I need to come home," I mumble and press my hand over my mouth.
"Alyssa," he sighs. "What's wrong? Why are you coming home?" I can tell he's bored. I'm not important, I never will be. Guess I don't need to be, anyway. Not to Jack Hart.
"Can you just not ask questions?" I blurt out, and I want to be looking at him right now. I hate talking on the phone, especially to people I can't work out.
Which seems to be everyone.
I want to see them, to see them focusing on me because I want to feel like what I'm saying really does matter in the world - to someone at least - even if it isn't reality.
The next word comes out of his mouth cautiously, "Okay. I won't ask questions . . . "
"Good. Neither will I, Jack," I say to him, then curl up into a ball and close my eyes tight. "Now tell me something I don't know. Anything. I need to hear something I don't know."
I don't think I've ever told anyone this and I don't think he's ever been told by anyone. But it seems right for this moment in time and I just want to think about something other than the fact that I've been played and messed around with by someone who I still love.
And he begins to murmur, "Well this is kind of hard. I haven't ever been asked this before, but hey - the truth is something you might not know."
"Tell me the truth then."
He laughs then, and it's the best sound I've heard for a while. "Well, the truth is that I . . . I want to ask questions."
"I want to ask questions too," I admit, and I can't help but think how stupid this conversation is. But I'm the one who started it.
"The more you talk, the more I want to ask questions. And it's not just now. It's everyday."
I don't know what that means. I don't know if I want to. So I just tell him, "If you want to ask me questions, you have to do something for me."
"Okay . . . "
I take in a deep breath, and that's when I know that Jack is not someone to be messed around with. I have to take him seriously no matter how ridiculous this conversation is and if he is going to move it to places it shouldn't be, I need to get out before I bury myself in a hole that's too deep for me to get out of.
"Don't tell my parents what you are going to do."
"Tell me what I am going to do, Alyssa."
I roll my eyes, through my tears. "You are going to drive up to The Overlook and wait. Wait until you see a blue car and then you're going to be able to ask me all the questions you have ever wanted."
"If you want, I can tell you what you're going to do."
"Tell me."
He sounds humoured but sincere, as he murmurs, "You're going to answer truthfully."
"That's okay," I whisper back, and I can tell neither of us are smiling.
-
It takes me an hour and a half to do all the following things - take a shower, arrange my face so I look less sad, choose my clothes, tidy my room, get in the car, drive there, get out, and walk towards Jack Hart sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the rock face.
I don't think that he's heard me as I approach, watching as his dark blue shirt creases and then smooths out, creases, and then smooths out, in the wind. He has his back to me and I can't see his face, until he turns to look at me with a peculiar look.
"Why are you here?"
"Don't start yet!" I exclaim as I plop down beside him on the grassy rock. The rocky grass. Whatever it is. I can feel his eyes boring right into me as I look down at the river and the town beneath us, and suddenly I want to shout something and see how many people would hear. How many would think I was crazy. How many would smile.
"I asked you a question and you said you'd answer my questions," he growls, and when I turn around his emerald eyes are cutting right into mine, his jaw flexing.
I take in a shaky breath, and wrap my jacket further around me. The days are getting shorter and the air more bitter and the wind harsher. It's all happening too fast, like how yesterday happened too fast.
"Okay. Okay, Jack . . . " I stare back at him, my eyes running over his clean, blemish-less forehead and his dark eyebrows and curling, long black eyelashes which are definitely longer than mine. And his perfectly straight nose and the slight stubble on his jaw. I feel my eyebrows lift as I stare back into his forest green eyes, but he quickly looks away.
"Shoot," I instruct him softly.
"Okay... Why did you call me?" He starts to pull grass out of the earth beside his leg, his hand on the ground in between us. I can't see his face anymore because he's staring down and I wonder what he's thinking.
"Because you're my friend," I tell him tirelessly. "You're- You're someone I trust . . ."
"That's not enough. You trust Katy and Niall and your parents and- And your boyfriend." He takes in a deep breath.
Now it's his turn to look up but I quickly let my eyes hit the floor and mingle with the grass because I can't look at him without crumpling into an emotional heap. I have to close my eyes to prevent any tears from dropping out and contaminating the ground.
Will used me.
I don't say anything. It's noticeable, obviously. Suddenly for the first time in years I wish I could go back to when I was fifteen when no one even gave a damn about what I did. I wasn't anyone that anyone had to worry about. Not at school, not at home. But now, if I bat an eyelid someone has to comment.
"Alyssa?"
I look up a him sharply, tears already stinging in my eyes. I must look scary because he looks slightly taken aback, tilting his head backwards.
"What?" I snap quickly, glaring up at him. I raise a hand to angrily brush away a tear, wondering why on earth I came. I only just got here and now I want to leave.
"Tell me what's wrong. Don't mess around with me like this, Alyssa," he growls warningly, and leans closer to me, his head bent. It's all too much. Before I thought that Will was intense but the boy sitting in front of me now is beyond that.
It's weird how he says my name so much when he's speaking to me. I don't think anyone else does that as much as he does.
"I'm not messing you around!" I exclaim angrily, balling my fists. "I asked you to come here because- Because you're my friend and I needed someone to talk to . . . "And then the tears come spilling out, my eyes pooling over outrageously. And then comes the trembling and the shaking of my shoulders and the downright, painful-to-listen-to sobbing.
I can't keep it in and I can't even look away from his face as I continue to bawl. I see his features clearly change from hard and stony and cold and pissed to surprised and panicky. I can't turn my head. I don't want him to see me but I can't tear myself away from his features.
The wailing sounds coming from my mouth are God-awful.
And suddenly I'm staring at the cotton threads of his t-shirt woven into each other and I can smell mint and faint floral washing powder which is then over powered by a nice boyish, relaxing aftershave aroma. I can feel a pair of big arms encircling my back and as I wrap my arms around Jack Hart for the first time ever, the wind suddenly whooshes my hair back, and Jack's t-shirt creases dramatically against my cheek.
"Tell me what's going on." He doesn't pull me closer, or pull me onto his lap. He only crouches there beside me with his arms wrapped around me. I feel so weak and now all the trauma is pouring out of me, onto his shirt. It's painfully embarrassing.
"It was nothing, that's what," I blubber, and I try to pull away so I'm not ruining his poor t-shirt but he only grips my jacket tighter, pulling my head closer to his chest. Now I can barely breathe.
"Alyssa," he warns me, his time threatening but no more than a whisper. "Tell me. Now."
"It was nothing!" I yell into his chest, and then scream out loud. I'm surprised when his grip on me doesn't even slacken. I hardly know this boy and yet I'm tearing into him. "I was messed around with! Everything that I thought was something so beautiful was just- Just . . ." And then the sobbing starts. "Lies!"
"You talking about your college boyfriend?" Jack's soothing voice is right against my ear, somehow the vibrations travelling down my spine to my navel, making me shiver as the tears roll slowly down my frosted cheeks.
"Hmm," I murmur, and grip his shirt tight as if I'll fall otherwise. Fall from crying.
I don't even think he cares. Why should he even care? How could he even care?
"You're not serious, are you?" He mumbles after some silence.
"I'm being serious," I whisper, and try to lift my head. This time he lets me and I stare up at his golden face through my tears. I notice a scar on his cheek, and look away quickly.
"What a dick. Fuckin' bastard!" His eyes are wide when I look back at them and I reach up to my cheek to dry a tear. The profanities flowing from his mouth only send the tears flowing back down again.
"How could someone fucking do that?" He's saying now, staring around the top of The Overlook. As if he's seeking spiritual guidance, and he needs it - anyone handling me does.
I am aware of his hands still on my shoulders as I stare down at the ground, the tears splashing onto my knee. The pain in my heart makes me begin to shake and only when I feel his arms encircle me again, I collapse against Jack's hard chest.
"What did he do, exactly?"
"Ch- cheated on me," I stammer. I gulp and say the words I never thought I would. "Will slept with a load of other girls."
I expect Jack to say something like "I told you so", or "What did I say about long distance relationships?" But obviously he isn't as harsh as I thought he was.
He surprises me by looking down and staring right at me, and I see his pupils dilate all of a sudden as a cloud moves over us. He doesn't touch my face, or lift my chin or wipe away a tear. Only stares.
"That's despicable," he snarls, more to himself. "Fuckin' disgustin'."
"Jack-"
"And he just told you? He must have no shame, the bastard."
"Please, stop . . . Swearing . . . " I tell him breathlessly as I brush away the salty drops of water on my cheeks. It's embarrassing when you have to tell someone that but right now I just cannot handle it.
"Sorry, Alyssa."
I look down at the tiny blades of grass and shift slightly on the ground. Then I ask lightly, "Why do you say my name so much?"
He doesn't answer me. I wait for an answer which never comes, and when I lift my head up again I see that his eyes are closed, his head bent towards the ground.
When his lips part, and he exhales, I think he's going to give me a reason but he only murmurs softly, "Who else did you tell?"
"No one," I whisper back immediately, hanging onto every word he says. "You can't tell anyone, either, Jack-"
"Are you going to tell anyone apart from me?" He interrupts quietly. His eyes are a picture of urgency, mild desperation.
"I don't know."
"Okay," he whispers immediately. Then he pauses, his eyes flickering around all my feature before resting his chin lightly on my shoulder and embracing me once more.
I don't know how someone could change their mood so quickly. As I allow his warm scent to envelope me, I wrap my arms around his middle and we stay in that position for a long time.
I think it's funny how we both seem to hang onto eachother's words for dear life and how we reply immediately after the other has spoken. Maybe it's because we're both rude, or maybe it's because we both just want to be understood and we want to understand eachother. I don't think that's ever happened to me with anyone else like that.
"You're not gonna go and tell your parents are you?" He suddenly murmurs , his voice surprisingly close to my ear. I'm not imagining it when the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
"How could I?" I ask him, pulling back. Even now, his hands still stay on my back in a caring manner while I wring mine in my lap.
Looking at me darkly, he shakes his head. "I was just checking."
"I'm not stupid, Jack."
"Oh, I know that."
After that, we just stare at eachother until I turn my head away, wiping my excess tears as I look down at the town. The place is filled with autumn colours under a bright Indian summer sunshine. Fiery reds, warm oranges, vibrant yellows and occasional greens.
"Enough about me," I sigh out. "How's it been going for you?"
He has to think this time before he replies, but I'm still facing away from him when he says, "Average. Boring, really. It's nothing exciting, being me, Alyssa."
I know that had a hidden meaning - he thinks it would be so much more if he was at uni.
So I tell him. "Jack . . . It's not that exciting, over there."
He looks at me with his head tilted to the side. "What do you mean?" He's playing dumb.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, biting my lip. Then I burst out, "I know how badly you want to go to university. But, Jack . . . "
When I open my eyes, I start. Because the face looking back at me is angry. So angry, so outrageous.
He doesn't say anything - I don't know what he can say. I feel like crying; I don't want him to be mad at me like this all the time. There's so much anger there, he's made of the stuff. Why are we both so emotional around eachother, but on totally opposite ends of the scale?
And so I start crying again. Silently this time, cold tears rolling down my face. I turn my back to him and cower there in a ball, my hands pressed over my eyes. I'm a wreck. I want to go home . . . But I can't let my parents get involved. I want someone to just tell me everything is going to be alright but the only person here is Jack, with his bad attitude and angry demeanour.
I begin to shake as the wind rushes through me, and Jack sits right behind me, as silent as the night. Maybe he is trying to control himself, I don't know. I just want to be alone.
"No you don't," comes his voice suddenly. In front of me. So he wasn't behind me after all. I look up to meet a pair of green eyes just inches from mine, the same scent as before brushing against my nose pleasantly.
"Did I say that out loud?" I whimper, as he pulls me into a warm embrace once again.
"Looks like it. I'm sorry, Alyssa . . ." He sighs and slowly I feel his hand stroking my back, his fingers in the ends of my hair. "Look, you don't want to be around me. It's not good, if a girl like you is mixin' with me."
"Jack, shut up," I order strongly, surprising myself. "You're talking rubbish. If it wasn't for you right now, I would be a mess."
He looks down at me and sighs, his eyes dark but his cheeks suddenly ever so slightly, faintly pink. "I've never had a friend like you, Alyssa. You're . . ."
"A weirdo?" I laugh.
He grins, and it's so bright it's almost dazzling. "Yeah, but other than that," he replies casually, "You're different from the others. You care about real things, y'know?"
I don't know how to answer that, so I don't do anything except smile and he gives me a sad smile back.
"Thanks for meeting me here," I murmur.
"Don't worry about it."
-
Zara is calling. I don't know if I can bare to hear her overjoyed voice right now but I don't want to be funny with her. So, I press the green button as I dump my bag on the bed.
"Hey."
"Alyssa! Hey, girl! How's Cambridge . . ?" Her voice is almost screeching, so I immediately put her on loudspeaker.
"Mm, it's good. What about St Andrews? Cold up there, right?"
She laughs as if I said something awfully funny. "Yeah, but who cares about the weather? It's so cosy and cute and I love it!"
"Cool," I reply tonelessly as I rub my eyes.
That's when she pauses, because I'm not oh-so-excited. Her voice flattens. "What's wrong."
I sigh and almost blurt out the truth to my best friend. It feels like it's now or never, but she's up in Scotland and I'm down in Cambridge and it doesn't feel right to tell her over the phone. So I bite my lip and say, "Nothing."
Silence again for a while, before a murmur of, "Okay. Cool."
"So, how's Tai?" I force myself to ask her through gritted teeth.
She gasps and squeals. "We're going on a date, tonight! And he said it's going to be fancy . . . I can't wait."
"I'm sure you'll have a great time." I force the words out of my mouth. "Hey, I've got to go. I'll call you another time, okay?"
"Oh, alright. Bye, darling."
"Have fun."
I don't know how many more phone calls to Zara I can manage.
---
The progress with this chapter was really slow :( Sorry about that. Also, can you comment below whether you want a Will or Jack POV next?:)
Thanks for reading!! Pleeeaasse
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