So Much to Learn

by Jessie L. Star

  ~*~

  The scholarship hopefuls were due to be notified by phone on the Monday whether they had been successful or not, so the three of us ploughed through an uneasy and tense weekend during which we all prowled around the flat feeling generally mentally untidy.

  On the Monday we all made the decision to blow off our classes and stay home to hear the results and then either celebrate or commiserate. With the home phone sitting on the middle of the kitchen table Matt, Jack and I seated ourselves around it and proceeded to stare at it all morning.

  We said very little and although we each had course work in front of us we pretty much did nothing but stare at the phone willing it to ring with good news. At about half 11, right about when I was considering gnawing off my own left leg to help ease the tedium, the phone emitted a shrill ring. We all jumped then stared apprehensively first at the phone then at each other. When the phone had rung three times more and Jack hadn't moved a muscle I snapped out of my stupor and snatched up the phone.

  "Hello?" I said, rather breathlessly.

  "Yes, hello," an officious voice said from the other end. "I was looking for a Jack Whitby."

  I couldn't help thinking 'a Jack Whitby?' So it doesn't have to be a specific one, just someone with that name? People who add extra, totally unnecessary words just to sound knobby annoy me! Still, it was perhaps the worst time in the world to debate a grammar point so I ignored my annoyance. "He's just here, I'll pass you over," I said in my best receptionist voice.

  "Thank you."

  I put my hand over the receiver and thrust the phone at Jack. "I think this is it," I hissed. "For God’s sake take the damn phone!"

  Jack reached out a trembling hand and took the phone off me as if it were a bomb about to go off or, considering he's a boy and boys like those kinds of things, perhaps a squalling baby, yeah, that would terrify him. Still, when he spoke, his voice was firm and controlled. "This is Jack Whitby."

  There was a pause while the person on the other end said something that Matt and I couldn't hear, despite the fact that we were pretty much pressing ourselves up against the other side of the phone.

  The conversation seemed to go on for an inordinately long period of time with Jack making occasional "Hmm" noises as if he was agreeing with everything the person was saying. I desperately tried to deduce whether they were good 'hmms' or bad ones but there really was no telling.

  Eventually, after several minutes, masquerading as hours, had passed Jack broke into a wide grin and said, his voice trembling with emotion, "Thank you, I will. Thank you so much. Goodbye."

  He pressed the off button on the phone and laid it carefully down on the table in front of him. For one long second he simply stared at the table top and then he lifted his head and let out a scream of triumph, and I mean a scream! Matt and I both jumped and then twin grins of sheer amazement split our faces as we looked at each other and realised that Jack was letting off the pressure he had carried around since he first applied for the scholarship. It was such a bizarre thing to see Jack making a huge noise and drawing attention to himself, but it seemed the healthiest thing in the world to do at that moment and so the next second saw Matt and I leaping out of our chairs and joining him.

  The three of us danced around the flat screaming various unintelligible things at each other and grinning like loons.

  Eventually we ran out of breath and stopped jumping and screaming to stare at each other, each of us red faced and breathing hard.

  "So," Jack said, breaking the loud silence, "I got it."

  "No, really?" I said sarcastically just as Matt said, mock innocently,

  "Got what?"

  There was another pause and, slowly, the grins slipped from our faces to be replaced with odd expressions akin to sadness but just a little off. Maybe they were just serious, yeah, that's how I felt, totally sombre.

  The seconds ticked by, the scene apparently having been put on mute by someone, until Matt gave a little cough and then stepped forward to grab Jack into a tight hug.

  There was none of the usual quick slaps and then release stuff the two of them usually did, it was a bona fide hug and they clung to each other fiercely as if they never wanted to let go. I felt tears spring to my eyes and looked away, not only because it was a private moment between the two of them but also because I knew it was the beginning of the goodbyes.

  They broke away reluctantly and I could tell that Matt was horrified by the little emotional scene he had just enacted by the way he squared his shoulders and said, in a voice a little deeper than his normal tone, "I'm going to call the others and we're going to drink the pub dry." As he picked up the phone he turned back to Jack and grinned. "This time it's my turn to get raving drunk, strip naked and run through a hedge!"

  Jack went a little red at this, but chuckled ruefully as Matt began to dial the numbers of the guys. Jack and I stood awkwardly looking at each other as Matt barked down the phone, "Jack got it. Pub now." To each of his friends. When he had finished he looked round at us both and frowned. "Don't you want to congratulate Jack?" He asked me pointedly and I shook myself out of the daze I'd been put in by Jack's eyes and smiled tightly.

  "Yes, congratulations Jack." I hadn't realised what I'd done until both Jack and Matt's eyes moved down and widened incredulously. Following their line of vision I saw that I'd stuck my hand out as if to shake Jack's hand. The formal gesture was patently ridiculous and it was clear the boys thought so too. Still, I decided backing out would look even weirder to Matt so I looked at Jack determinedly and the next second he grasped my hand tightly in his own.

  Big mistake!

  Although I had clearly thought a handshake would allow us to keep our distance I hadn't thought about the meaning a simple handshake held for us. It was the beginning of whatever it was that was going on between Jack and me, the first time I got tingles, the first time connection with a guy made me feel giddy and out of control in a good way.

  As I felt the power in his hand, the warmth of his palm against mine and the faintest feeling of his pulse beating against my skin a whole raft of memories whooshed through my mind. The lessons: the simplest touch can sometimes be the most effective, sometimes no touching is necessary at all, make sure he's in your head before he's in your pants, be nice to the person you're trying to get into bed, if you trust the guy you're with it can be OK to relax and let yourself go, pick your location wisely, be prepared, and, finally, that sometimes I needed to learn my own lessons. They each whirled through my head making more and more sense. The last one was the most poignant and I comforted myself in the fact that by backing off and releasing Jack from his obligation from me I was learning a lesson. That it was bloody hard!

  The tears that had welled up before increased tenfold and I gave a little choke and pulled my hand away from Jack's just as the tears began to pour down my cheeks. Staggering over to one of the dining chairs I tucked my legs up against me and wiped at my face with my sleeves, trying to stop the waterworks.

  "Well that was weird," Matt remarked, then as he fully took in my crumpled and blotched face he added, "Aw come on now! This is a good thing remember, a very good thing. Don't ruin it for him."

  Not able to speak I simply shook my head and attempted a smile to show that I wasn't trying to ruin the moment for Jack. Matt made a noise of disgust at my pathetic girly show and grabbed Jack by the shoulder. "Right, we'd better leave her to mop up, we're expected at the pub."

  "You go on," Jack said, his gaze never wavering from me. "I'm going to call your parents and tell them I got the scholarship, I wouldn't have done it without them. Or you," He added, his words indicating that he meant Matt and me both but his eyes telling me that at that moment his thanks were for me alone. This did not, however, make me feel any better.

  "Sure thing," Matt said easily. "See you down there."

  And he grabbed his jacket and left, leaving the door open behind him as he so often did when he knew that someone would be going through it soon aft
er him. When I used to take him up on this he would explain that it was an energy saving device. Are there no lengths of laziness boys will go to?

  Jack and I listened to Matt's footsteps echo through the building's stairwell and then the heavy door on the ground floor slam in the wind after his exit. I was still trying to get my floods of tears under control and turned my face away from Jack as seeing him looking so perfect just made me want to cry more. The next second, however, a box of tissues floated into my line of sight and I looked up to see Jack holding it out to me, apology written all over his face. I sighed and grabbed some tissues to clean myself up, mumbling past the soft sheets, "Don't look like that Jack, the worst thing you could do for both me and you right now is apologise for winning the scholarship. We both worked too hard for it to be sorry it happened."

  There, that was a suitably mature speech I thought. My calm words transferred some of their power to my internal weakness and, within a couple of seconds, I had pulled myself together sufficiently to take the wad of tissues away from my face and give Jack a tremulous smile.

  "I'm really happy for you."

  Jack snorted and gestured towards the wet lump of my discarded tissues. "So I see," he said in a gently sarcastic tone.

  "Don't, Jack," I said quietly and firmly, straightening up and dropping my legs back down off the chair. "You know how glad I am that you proved yourself to your dad and yourself and I know that it’s important to you to get away."

  Jack looked at me steadily for a long moment then grabbed another chair and dragged it over in front of me so that when he sat down on it his legs touched mine. He laid his hands gently on my thighs and leant forwards so there was no missing his intensity or integrity as he said, "My going isn't about leaving you."

  "No, it's just a handy by-product," I said sharply, hating myself the minute I let the words out.

  Jack flinched slightly, but didn't pull away as I had hoped. "Why do you always have to do that?" He asked, but his tone wasn't accusatory, it was more disappointed and sad but not for himself, I realised, but for me.

  "I don't know," I answered honestly and miserably. I thought then that he wouldn't be able to make me feel much worse, but his next words blew that totally out of the water, creating surely the same, if not greater, amount of pain that open heart surgery without an anaesthetic would.

  "If there was anything that would make me stay it would be you." He interlinked his hands with mine as he spoke, squeezing my fingers so tightly I'm sure if I hadn't already been focused on the fact that I was dying inside it would have hurt.

  There it was. Proof that his misguided sense of chivalry and obligation to me was holding him back from his life, from something that he wanted more than anything in the world.

  "Don't say that!" I said shrilly, my heart pounding and my eyes returning to that damn watery state. "Promise me that you won't say that again, or even think it," I clarified. "You've got to go," I said more calmly after I had let my words sink in.

  "I know," he replied with a frustrated sigh. "And I will, but I'm not going to pretend it's not going to be bloody hard."

  "Of course it will be, but wherever you are I'm-" Whoa, too personal, retreat! "We’re here for you," I said, my voice shaking a little with emotion. "It doesn't matter how far away you are, if you need us, we're there. I'll bloody learn astral projection if I have to!"

  Jack smiled his lopsided smile that I knew I was going to miss like anything. "Or you could just take a plane," he suggested.

  "Yeah," I admitted, "but it's more expensive and not as cool."

  We smiled at each other and then the next thing I knew, although I knew I shouldn't and had promised myself I wouldn't, we were kissing.

  His lips were soft against mine and so gentle. He disentangled one of his hands from mine and cupped my face, his fingers disappearing into my hair and playing with a few strands. I unconsciously leant in, wanting more, needing to be closer to him at that moment. Obviously reassured by my eagerness Jack let his lips press a little harder against mine, I responded in kind and soon found myself parting my lips slightly to invite even closer contact.

  The awkward angle we were having to sit at frustrated me as we couldn't get properly close and Jack must have been thinking the same thing because the next moment he gave a little growling sound deep in his throat and stood up, pulling me up with him. He kicked backwards at the chair he had been sitting on, sending it spinning across the room where it crashed into the wall with a significant bang, neither of us caring whether it left a dent in the plaster, getting bond money back seemed so petty at that moment.

  Still tightly locked at the mouth and now with my hands tightly grasping his shoulders and his hands on my hips, we moved as one, our bodies pressed together as if we were trying to morph into one person.

  At some stage Jack broke his lips from mine and began trailing kisses down my neck leaving me grasping and weak at the knees, an interesting phenomenon which I had never believed to be a true affliction until the whole thing with Jack had started.

  Wanting to feel his skin under my hands I ran my fingers down shirt until I reached the bottom fastening. He was wearing a shirt which was held together, not by buttons, but by metal poppers. I smiled and said breathlessly in imitation of his words about my button up jeans that first time, "I love these shirts, get the right angle and-" I pulled the fabric in different directions and the poppers popped open with a truly satisfying sound.

  Pushing the shirt off his shoulder and down his arms I relished in his smooth tanned skin and the heat I could feel radiating off it. Running my hands all over his chest I didn't realise I was smiling like the Cheshire cat until I saw Jack's raised eyebrows and self satisfied expression.

  "Like what you see?" He asked cheekily and I pretended to think his question over.

  "I've seen better," I lied.

  "Oh really?" Jack said disbelievingly.

  "Yes," I said in mock earnestness, "but you're definitely in the top ten."

  "I'm glad to hear it," he laughed, and the next moment he had heaved me over his shoulder, fireman style and started walking towards the couch.

  "Jack!" I squealed, laughing but giving him a few half-hearted thumps on the back to keep up appearances. "Put me down."

  "As you wish," he said gallantly and I landed with a soft thump onto the cushions of the couch. The next moment Jack was balancing himself above me and I only had to lift my head slightly to catch his lips and start the madness off all over again. I wrapped my legs tightly around his hips and ran my hands up and down his toned shoulders and back thinking as I did so that there was no better feeling in the world.

  A little while later I felt, with a surge of excitement, Jack's hands playing with the hem of my T-shirt. Lifting myself up off the couch slightly I gave him the go ahead to pull it off over my head and the next second he did so. The brush of cold air over my skin was quickly replaced by the feel of Jack's hands caressing me so gently and reverently that I didn't even think to be embarrassed over my not totally flat stomach.

  I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations his hands were summoning up and felt Jack suddenly grab me by the hips and pull me up so the next moment he was half sitting, half lying, leaning back against the couch armrest and I was straddling him.

  "Relocation?" I asked, opening my eyes and smiling down at him, aware of hammer pressing against me.

  "Better view," he replied, making me blush despite everything.

  I felt like a priceless piece of art the more he looked at me. He ran his hands gently across my shoulders, stomach, neck and the fabric of the bra covering my chest, occasionally leaning up to kiss a patch of skin as if it particularly pleased him. There was no sense of urgency between us, no sense of danger which was, it turned out, my downfall.

  I enjoyed his ministrations on my body but missed his lips on mine so I lowered my head and brushed my mouth against his teasingly, sucking his bottom lip briefly before pulling away. His dazed expression and hands tigh
tening on my hips told me my actions had had a significant effect upon him and, enjoying the sense of power, and just about every other sense which had sprung into a happy dance at the kiss, I lowered myself down and did the same again.

  As I was pulling away the second time, however, I froze as, out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw a movement in the open doorway to the flat. My gaze snapped onto the hinge gap and I definitely saw someone go past and, as I listened intently, the next second I heard quiet footsteps going down the stairs.

  Jack clearly hadn't seen or heard anything and when I looked back down at him he wore a quizzical expression. "Are you OK?" He asked, moving his hands up to gently rub my shoulders.

  "No!" I snapped pushing his hands off me and scrambling backwards off him, looking around for my T-shirt and spotting it near the beanbag.

  "Hey," Jack reached out and caught my hands tightly in his, holding me still, "what's wrong?"

  "Let go of me!" I said fiercely, struggling against him. I had to run after the person who had seen us, I had to know who it was, but Jack was showing no signs of letting go, obviously wanting to know what had happened. With my brain in crisis mode and precious time slipping away I blurted out the only thing I knew would make Jack let go of me at once, without thinking of how much I was going to hurt him.

  "Sheep," I said brutally. "I'm uncomfortable and scared and I want you to let me go."

  It was almost like a magic spell. The instant the words were out of my mouth Jack dropped my hands and stared at me in absolute horror. "Tally, I-" he began, his tone suggesting he was ready to cut off his own hands for what he thought he'd done to me.

  I didn't wait around to hear the end of what he had to say, jumping off the couch, scooping my T-shirt up off the floor and pelting out of the flat and down the stairs outside, pulling on my top as I went. As I flew down the second flight of stairs leading to the ground floor I hoped desperately that it wasn't Matt who had seen us. I was fairly sure it wasn't as he wouldn't have sloped off like a coward, he would have come in, guns blazing (metaphorically of course…well I hoped anyway).

  As I rounded the stairwell and began to descend the last flight of the stairs to the ground floor I began to suspect that I wouldn't catch up with the mystery voyeur because Jack had held me back.

  Looking up to see if I might be able to see whoever it was going out the main door, I froze, one foot raised in the act of descending to another stair. Loathing and horror caused little goosebumps to rise up all over my body and my hand clenched the cold, metal banister so tightly that my knuckles rose up showing the white of the bone through the thin skin there.

  Leaning against the grimy concrete wall next to the building exit, his arms folded arrogantly across his chest and clearly waiting for me was Micky. And the evil smile which had spread across his face as he had seen me did not bode well.

  Not well at all.