by Roxie Spears
“When you were talking about mattresses, I didn’t mean to shut you down like that.”
Colt chuckled. “You’re so sweet,” he said in disbelief. Maggy still stared at him, as if still trying to decipher him, but there was nothing to decipher, as Colt was a much simpler man. “Listen, mattress selling isn’t exactly my… dream job.”
Maggy remained silent, propped up on her elbows, blinking at him like she wanted more.
“I didn’t really choose to do this, I had to. Jasmin and I were starting over here and I had to do something.”
There was a pause. Colt sipped his beer and checked the time. It was approaching midnight. “You know what,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I think I better get going.”
Maggy rose to her feet, pulling her coat together. She smiled weakly, but she wasn’t hurt.
“Jasmin’s probably waiting for me back home, and I don’t know if she’s had anything to eat all day. Can we get a raincheck?”
“Of course,” Maggy nodded, holding her drink.
“How does tomorrow night sound?”
She smiled timidly. There was nothing about Maggy that Colt didn’t like, or even lightly criticized. She was a mature woman, one that seemed to have her life together. He wondered if she felt the same way about him, but judging by her pursed lips and rosy cheeks, Maggy was into him, too.
“Hey, Jazz,” Colt said, creeping in through the door. The lights were off and the apartment was quiet. But Colt’s suspicions didn’t last too long, because he heard faint music coming from Jasmin’s room. “Hey,” he said again, knocking on the door.
“Where have you been?” she asked with her back to him. She was in her little cocoon, her phone screen close to her face.
“I went out to buy some milk, then I ran into a friend so we got a drink together,” Colt said, scratching his head.
“Yeah, a friend.”
“Well, anyway. How was your day?” Colt entered the room and just stood there, clueless. “Had fun with your friends?”
“Yep.”
Colt was tired. Parenting wasn’t getting any easier, and neither was Jasmin. She slept in a fetal position, engaging in conversation with her “friends”; people he didn’t know, strangers, possibly dangerous strangers. His mind spun with a million thoughts. He needed to get out of there.
Finally he dove under the covers, and the first thought that came to mind was Leah. Meeting Maggy was a novel experience, one that he wasn’t at all prepared for. One that left him heaving under a storm of confusion, but in more ways than one, it left him fascinated.
Colt had a funny feeling in his stomach on the day Leah died. He remembered feeling anxious in the morning, not being able to enjoy his regular glass of apple juice. When he said goodbye to Leah that morning and before heading off to work, something felt different. He acted normal, though, up until the moment Holland called him.
He remembered everything clearly. Where he was, the buildings he could see, what the sky looked like. The clouds rolled by slowly that day and Mrs. Gibbins was crossing the street with her cane. She had a broken leg that month. Colt remembered it all too well.
“The Makinens found you.” Colt even remembered the way that Holland said that. Whenever he paused, it was almost like he could hear him all over again.
At this point he was sweating. Colt threw the blankets off him and sighed deeply. His lungs inflated with sour air as he stared at the ceiling, his eyes straining for light. The house was quiet now; Jasmin seemed to have fallen asleep. Music no longer leaked from her room. But Colt’s thoughts were the loudest. He slept on his back, fingers interlaced across his abdomen, chest rising and falling silently, head racing with thoughts.
That torturous phone call found its way to his imagination again, presenting itself in intricate detail. Colt remembered reaching his hand out, making sure that Jasmin was wearing her seatbelt. When he made sure, his fingers traveled up to her head, playing with her soft hair that stuck out in all directions. He caressed it a couple of times before letting out a sigh.
“Just be careful out there,” Holland said, his voice an omen.
“You said, you said you would handle it,” Colt shivered, his eyes swelling up with tears. He didn’t want to move again. He didn’t want his whole life to be turned upside down. He was tired of packing, tired of planes and day long roadtrips. He had gotten sick of strangers and new neighbors. Tired of being the new neighbor. I don’t want anymore welcome cookies, was one of the thoughts that crossed his mind.
Funny that he should remember these details, but what was to come was far more horrid than mere homesickness. When Colt turned onto the mainroad, the first thing he saw was a mushroom cloud billowing into the air. His heart dropped. “What the hell is that?” he mouthed to himself, not paying attention to an adolescent Jasmin, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. He leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel. “Oh, no. Oh no no no!”
Colt blinked. The disbelief worked its way to his face. “What’s going on?” Jasmin asked him. She had bigger eyes back then, more innocent. She didn’t talk back. Her voice was soft. She was relying on him.
“Oh my God, oh God.” Colt slowed down, his eyes darting back and forth frantically. He and Leah had a pretty house in Nova Scotia. It had a big roof and a garden. A white picket fence. They had saved up to buy it all. “Please, don’t let it be it. Please, God!”
He remembered his own voice. How it shivered. How he called out to God even though he believed in nothing. Finally his eyes landed on Jasmin’s swing, and that was when he knew. Ten firetrucks surrounded their house; a hundred people crowded around, their hands covering their mouths, eyebrows furrowed in fear.
She was in the house when it happened. A burning sensation started in Colt’s chest. He didn’t want to believe it at first, but deep down he knew it. He knew Leah had been cooking breakfast when he left the house that morning, and he knew she had gone to sleep around an hour later. He also knew that her phone was off, that he had tried calling her numerous times before finally assuming that she hadn’t yet woken up. Everything made sense, and everything else was just wishful thinking.
“Stay here, please. Just stay here,” he told Jasmin, who was shaking in her seat. “Here,” he remembered handing her the Nintendo and running off, coughing violently. “Was she, was she in there?” he asked one of the firemen, who had been sweating in his fire suit. Colt remembered his eyes; they were slanted and sad. Not afraid, as he had probably seen things more horrible than this, but they were full of uncertainty.
“We’re not sure yet,” he murmured, taking his helmet off and wiping the sweat off his forehead. Colt remembered him looking very heroic, or perhaps that was just the work of a distraught memory. He looked back at Jasmin, who had been looking at her Nintendo screen, her face scrunched up, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn’t want to look up, and at the time Colt had a theory the tiny console wasn’t on at all.
“I need, I need to know,” he blurted out. Colt thought he would hurl. It was clear the Makinens had caught up to them, and that he needed to act fast. He wasn’t getting the answers that he wanted, but in his gut he knew.
He knew Leah was in there.
Suddenly he was on autopilot. Holland’s voice sounded in Colt’s ears like a siren. He was warning him, telling him to get out of there while he still could. Three years prior to the incident, him and Leah were on the road together, a baby Jasmin in her arms. They were heading to salvation, together. They had it all planned out; at the time, starting over didn’t sound all too bad, after all.
But now, Colt felt claustrophobic. The smoke enveloped him, reminding him of his days in Quafin. It was almost like it followed him everywhere he went. But he wasn’t having it. Colt remembered jumping back into the car and driving off frantically.
“Where are we going? And where’s Leah?” Jasmin asked him, or perhaps she was silent the whole time. Colt didn’t quite remember this part, in fact he couldn’t remember much of what
happened after that at all.
Colt snapped out of his trance when he realized he had been hyperventilating. The room was still dark, but at least he was safe. And Jasmin was safe. Suddenly he rolled off the bed and hurried down the corridor, popping his head in through his niece’s door and smiling weakly. Jasmin had pulled the covers all the way up to her head; she was fast asleep, looking her most peaceful.
For a moment Colt was happy. The world was okay now, and even though Leah was no longer with them, time had done its job. They were moving on, both of them. Colt then retreated back to his room, collapsing on the bed again. He hadn’t accessed these thoughts in years, but there was something cathartic about dwelling late at night. Finally, his eyelids felt heavy. He let sleep take him.
Chapter 8
“Hey, Jazz. I’m gonna head out now,” Colt said, pulling his jacket together, rummaging the apartment for his keys.
“You’re looking pretty fancy, going on a date?”
Colt paused and smiled. He didn’t say anything else. “Remember to lock up, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Jasmin said with a smirk. The truth was that she couldn’t wait to be home alone. She dreamed about moving out, about having her life together. But she had a long road ahead of her, and she would probably wind up waitressing somewhere.
She watched Colt head out, and that was when she ran up to her room and jumped into the bed.
Jasmin was watching a show when her phone buzzed. Kyle’s name flashed across her screen, causing her stomach to flutter. She held the phone in her hands, thumbs hovering over the keyboard but not touching anything. She was playing hard to get, although she didn’t really have to. Kyle talked to her everyday. Perhaps, she thought, it was too good to be true.
So, what are you up to tonight? he asked her. Jasmin blushed.
Nothing much, just laying in bed. She paused. You?
Got no plans today. There was a pause. Kyle seemed to have disappeared.
My uncle went out a while ago, she texted back, her lips curving to a wry grin.
Kyle disappeared again, and she wondered what she had done wrong.
“Tina,” she breathed, cradling the phone to her ear. “I think I messed up.”
“What, what did you do?” her friend asked, startled. “Is it about Kyle?”
For a moment, Jasmin thought she sounded amused, intrigued, even. But she didn’t want to think that about her friend. “Yeah,” she breathed. “He left me on read.”
“Oh, that’s never good.”
Jasmin paused when she heard a tapping on her window. “What the hell was that?” she whispered to herself. “Hey, let me call you back.” She pulled back the curtains, only to find Kyle standing there. Jasmin panicked, so she pushed the window up and climbed out onto the fire escape. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, her cheeks a crimson red.
“I snuck out,” he replied, rather confidently. No guy had ever done that for her before. If anything, Jasmin was quite impressed. Kyle was still loyal to his baggy attire, sporting a purple beanie and a pair of mittens. Come to think of it, he was a pretty eccentric guy with a magnetism Jasmin had never encountered before. He was mysterious and seemingly lonely. He didn’t smile a lot, except at her. Jasmin was living the ultimate high school fantasy, falling for the picky guy. The one who claimed he hated people, but liked her. “Didn’t you say your uncle wasn’t here?”
“And to think I was worried I had creeped you out,” she said, rolling her eyes. Kyle slumped down on one of the metal stairs and looked up at her. “Um, wanna come inside?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her hair. She had never invited a guy over before. The feeling was absolutely exhilarating.
Kyle bent over and climbed into her room, staring around with his hands in his pockets. Jasmin followed, trodding lightly, anticipating his next move. “You have a nice room, is that your mom?” he pointed to Leah’s picture. Jasmin stared at a younger version of herself, a happier one.
“No, that’s Leah. She was my uncle’s long term girlfriend, but she died three years ago.”
“Oh, I’m really sorry,” Kyle said, circling the room slowly, observing all the posters. “Well, you have a nice room.”
“Thanks,” she replied, rather timidly. “How do you feel about microwaved pizza?”
“Well it’s just that the people here are weird,” Kyle said, throwing a third crust onto his plate and raising his eyes to meet Jasmin’s.
“Right? Wait, why d’you think they’re weird? It’s the accent, isn’t it?”
“They’re just… too nice.”
Jasmin giggled. She had been sitting there in her pajamas for what felt like hours, talking to Kyle about the smallest things. “Wanna watch something?” she asked him after a pause. A plan was in the works. Suddenly Jasmin felt bold, like nothing could stop her.
“Okay, where’s the TV?”
“Actually, I was thinking we could just go to my room?”
“Oh, alright,” Kyle jumped to his feet and followed her. He seemed neutral, intentionless, almost. Jasmin was having a hard time reading him, reading into his presence outside her window at an unusual hour. She felt content, yet confused at the same time.
“Clearly I did not think this through,” she murmured, staring at the bed.
Kyle sat awkwardly on the edge, smiling to himself. He wasn’t making any moves, like he had no expectations. Jasmin, on the other hand, had a lot of those.
“Well, what d’you wanna watch?” she asked, going over and sitting next to him. She fooled around with her laptop, aimlessly scrolling, busying herself with useless tasks. Kyle was staring straight ahead, holding onto the edge like he was about to do something radical.
“I really like you, Jazz,” he said.
Jasmin’s heart felt warm. She looked up from her laptop and turned to him. Eye contact was a dangerous thing; if you stare for a second too long, then you’re committing yourself to a kiss. No turning back now, she thought to herself. Kyle was already leaning in. Jasmin had never kissed a guy before. Her heart was racing wildly and out of control. Her hands felt clammy and cold.
Before she knew it his lips were on hers. She went stiff, but only for a moment. Kyle seemed to know what he was doing, like he had kissed a hundred girls before her. That didn’t bother Jasmin, not one bit.
Kissing was a strange act. Jasmin didn’t really know what she was doing, but it seemed to be working. Kyle held her face in his hands; she moved with him, tilting her head to the left sometimes, then tilting it the other way. Her eyes were closed; she wouldn’t dare open them. She wouldn’t want Kyle to think she was weird.
They pulled away, but only for a moment. “You taste nice,” were the first words to escape his mouth. Kyle was making her feel some type of way. Her insides tingled wildly, like she was electrified. The hair at the back of her neck stood up in attention. Her whole body felt strange, like it wasn’t accustomed to this genre of excitement.
It wasn’t long before she leaned in and kissed him again. This time she focused on the movement of his lips, studied the motions, tried to learn from him. Kyle was gentle, his lips soft. Woah, Jasmin thought to herself, suddenly feeling the tip of his tongue enter her mouth. It was a funny feeling, one that she couldn’t quite describe. It was foreign and amusing… and a bit fleshy.
“Do I taste like marinara sauce?” he spoke into her mouth.
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Kinda.”
Kyle grazed her lips with his teeth; she pulled back, startled. “Did that hurt?” he asked, smoothing a hand over her hair.
Jasmin breathed heavily. She then shook her head no and dove back in. They kissed each other slowly at first, but then more passionately. Yep, Kyle definitely knew what he was doing. Jasmin, on the other hand, was just letting her instincts guide her, stumbling through this odd encounter, making the most out of it.
She wondered where it would go. At this point they were just making out, but boy, was it a big deal for her. Slowly she pu
lled him in, smoothing her hands over the color of his shirt, finally gathering the strength to wrap his fingers lightly around his neck.
“Oh, kinky,” he whispered, and then suddenly she stopped. Kyle paused for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I say something wrong?” he asked.
“No, no,” Jasmin grabbed his forearm and smiled timidly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… new to this.”
“That’s really cute,” he said, how voice boiling down to a low rumble.
“I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” Jasmin added. She wasn’t ashamed this time. “But I’m comfortable with you. I just… don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.”
“And you think I do?” he said with a raised eyebrow. He clasped his fingers together and sat, his shoulders slumped forward. They were side by side now, conversing timidly yet comfortably, like they had known each other for years. “I’ve only ever had one girlfriend and she was… my first.”
“Yeah? That’s such a relief,” Jasmin said, sighing.
“Why, why’s it a relief? Did you think I was going to pressure you into anything?”
Jasmin hesitated. “It’s just weird, going to this school. Everyone’s having sex, everyone’s talking about having sex. And I’m just… there, watching it all pass me by.” She stared around her room and licked her lips. “And then you came along and got me even more confused.”
Kyle giggled. “And why is that?”
“Because I really like you!” she shrugged. “And I’m new to all of this. Guess I just don’t want to mess it all up.”
“Hey,” he whispered, tilting Jasmin’s chin towards him. “I really like you, too. And you make me pretty nervous.”
Jasmin tutted her tongue and popped her shoulder a little bit, tilting away. “Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Well, you do,” Kyle said again, leaning in slowly. Jasmin exhaled, closed her eyes and kissed him a third time. She was calmer this time; more grounded. Her thoughts weren’t racing anymore and neither was her heart. Jasmin drowned in that feeling; being held, being kissed like she was the most wonderful thing in the world. Kyle wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him, finally planting one last kiss on her forehead. The truth was that she wasn’t ready for anything more than that. And it was comforting, she thought, that Kyle wasn’t looking for anything more, either. Just being there together, it was enough. His company made her happy, even if it was just the two of them eating leftover pizza on the fire escape.
