by CJ Martín
I nod my head, half-listening, half-amazed at the profound words leaving Jesse’s mouth. He’s far wiser than his nineteen years. “Maybe.” I shrug, not allowing myself to indulge in the comfort his words bring.
“You will be a great mother someday. An amazing mother.”
My eyes squeeze shut. “Thank you.” When I open my eyes, Jesse is staring at me with an intensity, a rawness, that causes my heart to skip a beat. My eyes widen and flick to his full, round lips, remembering the way they felt pressed against my own all those months ago.
He shifts above me, and something grazes my thigh… Holy shit.
His eyes find mine and shine with love and something else, maybe lust. He leans forward, and I’m certain he’s going to kiss me, and God I want him to, but at the last second he rolls back onto his side and places a chaste kiss on my temple. “Don’t ever hide anything from me again.” He pauses, then adds more softly, “Please.”
“I won’t,” I whisper, trying my damnedest to calm my racing heart. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He curls a lock of my hair. “No more secrets.”
I look at him, eyes searching when I say, “No more secrets?” My voice rises at the end. I’m trying to ask if he feels it, too. This connection, this pull between us that isn’t going away no matter how much I try to force it to.
His eyes narrow and a look of resignation masks his face. “I can’t lose you, Riley.” His warm breath dances across my skin. “You’re my everything.”
Disappointment hits low in my belly, but I try to explain it away. It’s been an emotional couple of weeks. He’s just familiar to you. He’s your best friend. I smile to hide my hurt. “Forever?”
“Forever.”
As he holds me, my eyes begin to drift closed. My body is spent, exhausted, and right here with Jesse is the safest and calmest I’ve felt in weeks. I’m somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, that fuzzy place where nothing seems real, when I hear Jesse whisper across the stillness, “I love you, Riley Ann.”
A smile stretches across my lips. I love you, too.
23
Riley
When it rains it pours. Two weeks later, on my way to English composition, I receive a call from my mom. “Hello?” I answer on the first ring.
“Riley?” My mom questions, although I’m one hundred percent positive she knows it’s me.
“What’s up?” I glance at the clock. “It’s early, aren’t you still at work?”
She sighs and my stomach clenches in fear. “Honey, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
My hand grips the phone tighter, and my heart begins to pound in my chest.
“What’s wrong? Is Dad okay? Mikayla?” My words come out rapid-fire.
“No,” she continues. “It’s Jesse’s grandmother. She passed away this morning.”
“What?” My voice booms, and I drop my bag on the sidewalk. “When? How? Does Jesse know?”
“Yes.” She sighs again. “He came home last night. She had another stroke, but there was nothing they could do this time. I’m sorry to call you now. I know you have classes but Ms. Collins asked me to phone you. Jesse isn’t taking it well.”
Of course he’s not taking it well. Jesse never met his dad’s parents, and his maternal grandfather died before he was born. Mrs. Pepretts—Gram was the only grandparent he ever knew, the only grandparent he had. “Mom, I gotta go,” I say, but then add, “Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome, honey. By—”
Before she even finishes the word, I hang up the phone and dial Jesse’s number, but the call goes straight to voicemail. I hang up and dial again. When his recording picks up a second time, I decide to leave a message. “Jesse, it’s me. I just heard. Call me. Please.”
I end the call and pull up our last text thread.
Riley: Call me, please
Walking at a furious pace back to my dorm, I punch Liza’s number into my phone.
Her bubbly voice answers after the second ring. “Hey, girl, what’s up?”
I don’t bother with greetings and get straight to the point. “I need to borrow your car.”
“Is everything okay?” she asks with genuine concern in her voice.
“I need to get home. Jesse’s grandmother passed away this morning, and I need to get to him.”
She doesn’t question me further. “Keys are in the top, right-hand drawer of my desk.”
All the breath rushes out of me, making me dizzy. I stop walking and squeeze my eyes shut. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. That’s what friends are for.”
By the time I approach exit fifty-six, the exit I need, Jesse still hasn’t called, even though I left him numerous texts and voicemails. It’s a gamble, but I drive straight to his grandmother’s house in West County rather than his mom’s house. Most of his mom’s family lives in West County, so I’m assuming that’s where everyone will be.
It’s been a while since I’d visited his grandmother’s house, but I remember the way (mostly) and only have to turn around once. When I pull onto her road, I know I’ve made the right choice, because there are at least seven cars parked in the driveway and street. I pull the car onto the side of the road and run straight through the grass to the front door. I don’t knock, just walk in, which, in hindsight, I guess is pretty rude, but I’m not thinking of manners or etiquette…the only thing I’m thinking about is Jesse.
I find his mom first, sitting in the front living room talking to her sister, Jesse’s aunt, Rhonda, and one of Jesse’s cousins whose name I don’t remember. She stands when she sees me, and I rush to her arms, embracing her in a hug.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and she hugs me a little tighter. We both pull back and I ask, “Where is he?”
“Kitchen.” She gestures with her chin toward the back of the house.
“Thank you.” I squeeze her hands and turn away.
Jesse stands near the breakfast bar, talking to his Uncle John. His eyes are bloodshot as though he’s been crying, and he wears a Briar basketball t-shirt and faded grey sweatpants.
His eyes snap to mine and widen in confusion as I rush toward him. Wrapping him in my arms, I speak softly into his ear. “I’m so sorry.” Twining his arms around me, he nods once before I continue. “Are you okay?”
He shakes his head no and I squeeze tighter. “Wanna get some fresh air?”
Pulling back slightly, he nods his response. His eyes have a misty sheen to them and my heart breaks for him, for this boy who is usually so strong, so capable. In this moment, I would do anything to take his pain away.
He discreetly drags his palms across his face, and I run my hands up and down his back in what I hope is a soothing gesture. “Whatever you wanna do. Whatever you need…” My voice trails off as a young girl enters the kitchen, hair tied back in a ponytail. She wears black yoga pants and a Briar t-shirt, as well. She looks familiar.
“Jes, I found a—” She stops abruptly when she sees me with Jesse, and it’s then, when her eyes meet mine, that I remember who she is: Lily.
“Charger?” She sets a white cord and plug on the counter and Jesse reaches for it.
“Thanks.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and says to no one in particular. “It’s dead.”
The words sound so cruel, so cold and callous, given the circumstances of why we’re all here. He turns away from us and plugs in the wire.
“Hi.” I reach my hand forward in greeting. “I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m―”
“I know who you are.” Lily’s voice is severe, almost accusatory. I must make a face because she smiles (or at least attempts to) before saying, “Sorry. You’re Riley. Jesse’s friend from back home, right?”
I don’t get a chance to answer before Jesse looks at me and asks, “Are you ready?”
My eyes volley between him and Lily. Can you say awkward? “Um…” I hesitate, but then I realize Jesse isn’t going to ask Lily to join us, s
o I do. “We’re gonna get some air. Wanna come?”
She seems unsure and looks to Jesse for an answer before saying, “I think I’m gonna head back. It’s a long drive, and I want to get on the road before it gets dark.”
Jesse snaps out of his fog. “No.” He meets Lily’s eyes. “Stay. My aunt fixed the bed in the spare bedroom for you. It’s too late to head back now.”
Lily’s gaze turns hopeful. “Okay.”
I offer a shaky smile as Lily continues, “Let me just grab my phone and then we can—”
Jesse’s voice cuts her off. “I just want to be alone right now. I’ll catch up with you in a little bit, okay?”
“Sure.” Lily’s smile slips.
We both watch as Jesse opens the door. He’s halfway onto the porch when he pauses and glances over his shoulder. “You coming, Ry?”
With one last, sad smile at Lily, I turn and follow him outside to wherever he wants to go, because he needs me right now, and that’s all that matters.
24
Jesse
I’m in Lily’s room, more than half naked when my mom calls. Normally, I’d kick the call to voicemail and call her back later on once I’m in my own dorm, but the timing of the call is off. It’s after 10:00 p.m., only two hours into my mom’s shift at the hospital, a time she wouldn’t typically be calling to chat.
“Hello?” I say, voice hoarse because Lily doesn’t stop smoothing her hand over my cock.
“Jesse.” My mom’s voice sounds different, more cautious. “Where are you?”
“I’m…” I grab Lily’s hand with my own and begin to sit up, but still she doesn’t stop. She dips her head and begins licking a path down my stomach. “What’s wrong?” I breathe, squeezing my eyes shut because fuck, what Lily’s doing feels good.
“I’m calling about Gram.” I suck in a breath as she says, “She had another stroke.”
Fisting Lily’s hair in my hand, I hold her head still as she tries to kiss her way farther down my abdomen. When she persists, I push her off me and stand up. “When?” I clutch the phone tighter as I search the floor for my sweatpants.
“An hour ago.” My mom’s voice breaks on a sob. “The doctors aren’t giving her much time.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say, as I push my feet into my sneakers.
“Jes.” My mom’s voice carries through the phone. “Do you have someone to drive you? I don’t want you driving this late while you’re upset.”
“Mom—” I start to argue, but she cuts me off.
“Please, Jesse. I don’t want to have to worry about you on top of everything else.”
My eyes dart to Lily and I nod my head. “Yeah, I have someone who can drive me.”
My grandmother’s house is one of two houses on Brubaker Lane. It’s a dirt road that sees few cars and even fewer pedestrians. As a kid I loved coming to visit her because I could ride my bike without having to worry about traffic or people. It was like I owned the road, like it was my own private kingdom. I’ve never been more grateful for the peacefulness, the desolateness of her neighborhood than I am today.
We’ve walked more than a mile down the road before Riley speaks. “I went to the clinic.”
“Yeah?” I question, my heart filling with gratitude because she knows exactly what I need right now: a distraction.
“Uh-huh.” She kicks a small rock farther down the road. “Yeah, everything came back…okay.”
Thank God.
We continue walking, and when she comes across the same stone as before, she kicks it again. “Thank God.” She mirrors my thoughts. “I also got a script for birth control—I never want to go through that again.”
“That’s good, Ry.”
We walk another few feet and she says, “You know, you were pretty mean to Lily back there.”
I grunt. I know I wasn’t nice, but I’m not at my best right now. I just lost my only grandparent. My head is so fucked up. “I’ll apologize.”
Riley stops in front of me and takes my hands. “Lily will understand. You’re hurting right now. You’re not thinking straight. Your gram was…”
“I loved her so much.” My voice breaks and I dip my head, embarrassed by the tears forming in my eyes.
“I know.” Riley wraps me in her arms. “It’s okay to cry, Jes. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to miss her.”
I bury my head in the crook of Riley’s neck and let her hold me. No words are exchanged. Just her simply being here with me is all I need, and for once, I’m grateful that we didn’t complicate our friendship with sex or other intense feelings, because nothing is more comforting than her love for me right now. If we had crossed the line—a line we’ve been tiptoeing around for years—I might not have this. Her. Here with me now.
We stay like that until the air cools and the wind whips across our skin.
“We should head back,” I suggest, because it seems like the right thing to say, and I probably should apologize to Lily before it gets too late.
“You okay?” Riley angles her face toward me as she cradles my cheek with her palm.
I close my eyes and relish in her comfort for a moment longer. “I will be.”
She releases her hand, and I immediately interlace my fingers with hers. “Ry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for coming.”
“There’s no place in the world I’d rather be.”
And the absolute best part is I know she fucking means it.
25
Riley
Jesse’s grandmother was buried two days later in a small, yet tasteful, service attended by her family and several close friends. Surprisingly, Jesse’s dad flew in from North Carolina to attend the funeral and stayed an additional week to help Jesse’s mother and aunt sort the estate and tie up any remaining loose ends.
Jesse and I talked when we could, and for the most part it seemed that he was coping with the loss well—or at least as well as can be expected.
The months bled into one another, and before I could blink it was almost the end of spring semester.
I’ve maintained most of the positive changes I implemented after my breakdown in February. I still attend parties, but I rarely—if ever—drink. In a way, it works to everyone’s benefit. My friends are grateful to have a reliable designated driver, and because of this, no one ever pressures me to do something I don’t want to do.
Occasionally I’ll let loose, but only with a close group of friends: mainly Liza, our mutual friend, Kara, or (when I see him) Jesse. I trust myself to never get that out of control again, but there’s no harm in being extra cautious. Besides, ever since that terrible night, alcohol, in general, is a touchy subject for me.
The first week of May finals are in full swing, and I resign myself to the fact that I’ll be spending every waking minute in the library for the next week so I can cram all the necessary information into my brain. I’m an interior design major, but my math class—I was assigned calculus based on my high school transcript, even though I only needed a general education credit—is kicking my ass. This past month alone, I filled up three notebooks with class notes and problems.
Studying in the library has always been my refuge. I have a special spot, a little table wedged in the corner that is hidden from view by three, tall, wooden bookcases that house the reference materials. It’s my secret place. Students rarely venture up to the fourth floor—why would they, when they have Google?—but even if they do, they never cross to the back wall, to my corner. And that’s exactly how I like it.
My phone buzzes alongside my calc notebook. A smile tips the corners of my lips as I read the text.
Jesse: Whatcha doing?
Riley: Studying calculus.
Jesse: Srsly? How do you even study for math?
I snap a picture of the three pages of notes I’d just completed and send it to him.
Riley: That’s one problem.
Jesse: Shoot me now. When you coming home?
Riley:
May 7th Dad’s picking me up.
Jesse: Cool. I’ll be home May 10th. Tree house?
My heart does this weird flutter thing when I think about seeing him. Alone. In our tree house. At night. But I ignore it. I’ve just started “talking” to this guy, Dave, who Liza introduced me to from her speech class. We’ve hung out a couple of times and I’ve had fun. He’s sweet and has a dry sense of humor that cracks me up.
I type back my response, deleting the kissing heart emoji that I normally send in our texts, but at the last minute I tack it back on.
Riley: Sounds like a plan. *kissing heart emoji*
Jesse: Can’t wait to see you.
Riley: Me, too. Good luck on your finals.
Jesse: Thanks. I’m gonna need it. See ya May 10th Riley Ann.
The timber plank creeks as I pull my weight onto the last rung of the wooden ladder. The sky is a dusky mix of oranges and yellows as the sun shifts behind the clouds and the moon winks in the night sky. I settle against the wall, the tiny splinters of wood pricking my bare shoulders and upper back. A cool breeze whips through the open window, and I wrap my arms around my chest. Dammit. I forgot to bring a jacket.
I’m debating whether or not I want to go back to my house to grab my hoodie, the entire time knowing full well I’m too lazy to do so, when Jesse’s head appears over the top of the ladder. He pulls himself up and walks toward where I sit. I drag myself up to stand and he wraps me in a hug, lifting and twirling me around. “Riley.” He smiles as he sets me back on my feet. “It’s so good to see you. It’s so good to be home.”
