A Not So Typical Love

by Tristen Rowen

  "Hey, what's going on?" Tim said. I just shrugged. "Then something is going on. What? I thought you've been doing well, so what is it?" Shaking my head, I shrugged again. Unsatisfied with my response, he took my frosty away. "I'll give it back when you tell me what you're thinking about."

  Pausing a few seconds, I looked at him, then back down again. "I don't want to be a burden to you anymore," I said.

  "Huh?" he said.

  "I'm a burden to you," I said. "It's not fair. You never had a normal life. I messed everything up for you."

  "What?"

  "I was always in trouble and you were always there. I don't want to be a burden to you anymore. I want you to be happy."

  "Who says I'm not happy? You're not a burden to me. You're a brat and a pain in the ass, but you've never been a burden."

  I didn't believe him. Of course I was a burden.

  "Look at me, Jordan." I shook my head. "You've never been a burden, Jordan. You're not a burden."

  "I'll go to a group home if you want me to," I said, not believing a word he said.

  "Jordan, look at me," he said, squeezing my arm. He squeezed it so tight; I swore he'd leave a handprint. "You've never been a burden to me. I want you to come home."

  As he forced me to look at him, tears poured out of me.

  "I love him," I sobbed. "I love him and I messed up."

  "I know you love him," he said. "But I know Jamie and he's very forgiving and he would love to hear from you." Sobbing, I shook my head, too embarrassed to call or text him. As long as I was in this place, I felt like I just couldn't.

  "Believe me, Jordan, you've never been a burden to me," he said. "I'm never letting you go. You're going to get out of here, finish college, and go to med school, if that’s what you want. And somewhere along the way, you're going to get the balls to call Jamie." He handed my frosty back to me. "That's so disgusting," he said as I dipped another fry in my frosty.

  "Shut up," I said.

  As my tears dissipated, I shoved a frosty-covered fry in his face. One thing I knew was that I was great at being a bratty younger brother.

  Teenage Kicks

  Jordan

  Thanksgiving was just around the corner and I was glad to be home for it. I loved turkey and apple pie. I liked pumpkin pie, too. Over the past several years, together Tim and I managed to learn how to roast a turkey. I always did a better job. Tim had a tendency to burn himself on the oven.

  Things basically went back to the way they were before the summer. My room and desk were untouched, the air mattress put back in its usual spot in a storage closet downstairs. Most of the leaves were gone now. I was disappointed I missed all the foliage. The trees around our house were really pretty in the fall and I missed it. Tim, trying to make me feel better, said "there's always next year."

  While I was in the hospital, Jamie texted me or emailed me nearly everyday, but those emails and texts dwindled to a couple of times a week, then once, then hardly ever. I couldn't blame him because I was an ass hole and never once texted or emailed him back. Still, I thought about him all the time and music and school couldn't even distract me.

  Wandering around my room, I let Teenage Kicks blare through my headphones. Only a few days before Thanksgiving, Tim and I planned on visiting Mom, but we both procrastinated. As I bobbed around my room, I nearly forgot how much I liked this song. My thoughts turned to Jamie, wondering if he liked the song, too.

  Tim tapped my shoulder, scaring the crap out of me. "How many times have I told you to knock?" I snapped at him.

  "I did knock," he said. "I knocked for five minutes. Are you ready to go or what?"

  "Yeah, I guess," I said.

  Parked in the group home driveway, we procrastinated again, Tim and I both hesitating before getting out of the car. "I'll go and you can stay here," I said.

  "No, I should go," Tim sighed. "It's Thanksgiving."

  Even though it was late fall with a chill in the air, we sat outside at the picnic table. As usual, Mom sat across from us. Today I was obsessed with Teenage Kicks and let it play on my phone, which rested between me and Mom on the table.

  "I love this song," Tim said. "I haven't heard it in ages."

  "Do you think Jamie would like it?" I asked.

  "I don't know," Tim said. "Why don't you call and ask him?" Tim was always after me to call him. He was right; I knew I should call him, but I didn't want to admit he was right.

  "I messed up again," I said, talking to Mom while Tim looked off at something else, not really paying attention to us. "It was really bad. It was so bad." In shame and embarrassment, I stared down at the table. "That's why I haven't visited in awhile. I had a complete freak out. I was in the hospital for like two and a half months, but I'm better now...I think. And I said some really bad things to Jamie. You remember Jamie, right?" Mom only stared back at me. "He used to call and text me all the time, but I haven't texted him back yet or called him. I can't...I can't...I just can't and I lost him...I'm so...I'm so...what's the word...embarrassed I guess. I don't know what to do."

  "You know what to do," Tim said, still staring into the distance, away from Mom.

  "I wasn't talking to you," I said as tears streamed down my cheeks. Resting my elbows on the table, I held my face in my hands. Up until recently, I had never cried so much before in my life. As I wallowed in my own sorrow, something distracted me, catching me completely by surprise. Opening my eyes, I discovered Mom pressing her hand against mine. There was little expression on her face, but she caressed my hand as if attempting to console me. She had never done anything like that before, a sign she cared, a sign that she was in there somewhere.

  "Mom..." I said. She withdrew her hand even though I didn't want her to. I reached across the table and took her hand back in mine. I sat there for a few minutes, just holding her hand. And then something snapped inside me and I jumped to my feet, letting go of her hand. "I...I...I gotta go," I said and ran off.

  "Wait, Jordan,” Tim called to me.

  "Leave me alone," I shouted back at him.

  Heading back to the car, I abruptly stopped and plopped myself down on the grass. I took out my phone and stared down at it for a minute. I knew what I had to do. It was one o'clock Eastern time, so that made it around six o'clock British time. With a trembling finger, I tapped Jamie's name on my phone. After a few rings, I heard his voice in real time.

  "Hello?" Jamie answered. "Jordan?" For a second I couldn't find my voice, which could be so annoying sometimes. "For fuck's sake, Jordan, say something."

  "I was listening to Teenage Kicks and thought of you," I said. He was silent on the other end for a second.

  "Why did that song make you think of me?" he asked.

  "I don't know. I thought you might like it and I guess I wished you were dancing with me. Do you know that song?"

  "Yes. It's a cool song. I fucking love that song." There was a bite to his voice that I had never heard before.

  "Jamie..." I wasn't sure what to say. "Are you mad?" At first he didn't answer, but I didn't give up. "Jamie..."

  "Jordan," he said.

  "I...I..." I wasn't sure what to say. "Jamie..."

  "Jordan," he said. "Yes, I was angry and hurt and worried. That's the truth. I was worried because I didn't want to lose you."

  "You didn't lose me," I said as tears continued to fall. "You didn't."

  "Jordan..." his voice briefly trailed off. "I really want to hold you right now. I can hear your tears."

  "I think about you all the time," I said. "And...and...and you didn't ruin everything."

  These overwhelming emotions were too much for me to handle so I hung up, throwing my phone a few feet in front of me on the grass, sobbing and sobbing, nearly uncontrollably. Jamie immediately called me back. At first I didn't pick up, but he called back over and over. Finally, I dove for my phone on the grass and answered it.

  "Listen to me, Jordan," Jamie said. "You only have to listen. I know how hard this is for you. I'm really
, really glad you called me. I'm relieved actually. I love you and I'm not leaving you. I promise you."

  "Really?" I muttered, holding my phone tight. A shadow loomed over me and I knew it was Tim, but I didn't look up.

  "Yes, really," he said. "You haven't left me, have you?"

  "No," I said. Because Tim was staring at me, I got up and walked away. "I haven't left you. Tim's eavesdropping." I wiped my cheeks with the sleeve of my hoodie. "How's England?"

  "It's good," he said. "Interesting."

  "I miss you," I said.

  "I miss you, too."

  We talked for a few minutes until Tim interrupted us, pointing to the car as if we had been talking for hours. Maybe we did talk for more than a few minutes and I lost track of time.

  ***

  Tim and I decided to have a quiet Thanksgiving, choosing not to invite any other extended family members. So it was just the three of us: Tim, myself, and Kelly. These days she spent a lot of time at the house, often sleeping over. I kind of liked her and had gotten used to her so I didn't care if she joined us for Thanksgiving.

  Sometimes my mother's crazy family would come and if they came, then Art's side wouldn't come. They never got along. Art's side definitely wouldn't come if Art wasn't there. His side of the family could be really annoying, too, because his two brothers and sister would have these heated arguments about the house and property and all that. So Tim and I often preferred celebrating Thanksgiving together.

  Kelly didn't like trimming the turkey, either, so I did it. I took pleasure in removing the giblets and dangling them in front of Tim's face. I also did it with the tongue, but I got a bigger reaction with the giblets.

  "You're such a brat," Tim said, running out of the kitchen. "I don't know what Jamie sees in you." It was a good thing I knew he was teasing. I could tolerate teasing more than I used to.

  "You know, I thought you and Tim only knew how to cook pasta," Kelly said, leaning against the stove as I basted the turkey.

  "I do brownies and Jamie taught me how to make omelets. I make apple pie, too, but I buy the pie crust."

  "You made pumpkin pie, too, didn't you?"

  "Oh yeah, I guess I did. I googled a recipe."

  "Jamie would be proud," she said. "Speaking of Jamie...I found this on the kitchen table. It's been on the table for months." She placed the square, unopened manila envelope on the kitchen counter. It was from the Department of Homeland Security. After I put the turkey back in the oven, I opened the letter, emptying the contents in my hand, recognizing it as my U.S. Passport.

  "You should put that somewhere safe," Kelly said.

  "Yeah," I said. My phone suddenly rang. Jamie said he was going to call and he always kept his promise.

  "Jamie," I said excitedly.

  "Jordan," he said quietly. He didn't sound like himself although I had heard that tone before. "Happy Thanksgiving."

  "Happy Thanksgiving," I said, unable to hide the concern in my voice. "What's wrong?"

  "I miss you," he said. "I miss my family. I called my mother, but she had no idea who I was." I wasn't sure what to say to make him feel better. All I wanted to do was hold him and be the one to tell him everything was going to be okay, whether it was true or not. "How's your Thanksgiving going?"

  "Good. What are you having for dinner?"

  "Curry," he said. “There’s no sense in making turkey for one person.”

  "I wish I was there with you right now."

  "Yeah, me too," he said. "But I'm okay. I like to hear your voice."

  I hated being so far away from him. He was all alone in England on Thanksgiving, a holiday they don't even celebrate. And he was going to be alone on Christmas, too. I didn't want him to be alone. He wasn't meant to be alone.

  ***

  As November ended and December began, I worried about Jamie more and more. Every time we spoke he sounded sadder and sadder.

  Sitting on my bed in my room, I flipped through my empty passport. After a few minutes, I got off my bed and went to my computer to check my bank account. I now had access to my money with my own debit and credit card. Art continued to put money in my account every month so I had a substantial amount of money in it.

  In a google search, I typed in "flights to London." Tons of flights immediately appeared on the screen. I had never flown in my entire life. I'd never even left New England. I wondered what the weather was like in London in December. I googled that, too, then returned to the list of flights. Tim would have a fit if I left. He'd only try to talk me out of it if he knew what I planned to do. Jamie would try to talk me out of it too, quick to remind me of the incident at Fenway. I kept telling myself I wouldn't let that happen again.

  My mind ran wild. How would I even get to the airport? A taxi? Uber? Would Uber even come out here? Whatever...I'll figure it out, I thought and found a flight for tomorrow, the earliest, an overnight flight via Virgin Atlantic. I didn't care. I was going and clicked "purchase."

  School was done for the semester, anyway. There was nothing holding me back except fear of change and of the unknown.

  Knowing Kelly was in the house somewhere, I went downstairs, finding her in the laundry room.

  "Hey," she said. "Tim just went to the store. He'll be home soon. Can I help you with something? You seem kind of distracted. Everything okay?"

  "Yeah," I said, pulling at my hair nervously. "If I needed a lift somewhere, could you do it?"

  "You mean, a ride?"

  "Yeah," I said.

  "Sure," she said. "But why me? Why can't Tim?"

  "I can't tell Tim. You can't tell him."

  "I don't know if I like that idea," she said. "Why can't you tell Tim?"

  "Because I can't," I said. "He'd never let me go. He'd probably have me locked up again or something."

  "Where are you planning on going, anyway?"

  I was sure she knew.

  "Um...uh...well...I need to see him," I said. "I need to see him and I need to see him like now because he's really sad and lonely. He calls me everyday and he's so sad. I don't want him to be sad. If I'm there with him, I don't think he'll be so sad."

  "You're talking about Jamie?"

  Who else would I be talking about?

  "You plan on going to see Jamie?"

  “I don't want him to be alone,” I said. “My heart hurts. It really hurts."

  "You're a bit of a romantic, aren't you? What you're doing is very, very romantic, but you have to tell Tim. You can't just take off and leave without a word."

  "Tim would totally freak out and not let me go. If you don't take me, I'll figure out another way to get there. There's gotta be a taxi that would come out here."

  "Jordan, I really think you should tell Tim," she said. "It's not like you're going for a ride around the block. We're talking international flying. Have you ever flown before?"

  "No," I said.

  "Have you ever been to an airport before?"

  "No," I said.

  "Airports can be loud and crowded and overwhelming, especially Logan. That place is crazy...and Heathrow Airport in London? That's a city in itself."

  "I'm going with or without your help," I said and turned to leave.

  "Wait, Jordan," she said. "Have you bought your ticket yet?"

  I wasn't sure if I should tell her or not so I remained silent. Taking a deep breath, she let out a sigh.

  "What time do you need me to drop you off at the airport?" she said.

  "I got an eight o'clock flight tomorrow night," I said. "You can drop me off at five. Tim won't even be home yet. I'll leave him a note and text him as soon as I land."

  "As soon as you land?" she said in disbelief.

  "Okay...as soon as I get on the plane."

  Kelly paused a second.

  "I'm only doing this in the name of love because what you're doing is so utterly romantic, I can barely stand it."

  While a part of me felt guilty for leaving without telling Tim and only a week and a half before Christmas,
another part of me was bursting with excitement at the idea of seeing Jamie again, of flying, of visiting another country, and mostly because I was doing something totally out of the ordinary, not part of my routine at all, completely out of character.

  And for once in my life I wasn't being so self-centered.

  Fairytale of New York

  Jordan

  In the storage closet downstairs, I dug out the biggest suitcase I could find and emptied the contents of my dresser drawers into it. I then shoved a bunch of stuff in my backpack, mostly books (in case I needed them) in addition to my laptop.

  "It looks like you've packed up your entire room," Kelly said, standing in my doorway. "How long do you plan on going for?" I only shrugged because I wasn't sure. I was supposed to be coming back on January 2nd, but what if I wanted to stay longer? “You bought a return ticket, didn't you?" I half-nodded. "If you plan on staying there, you have to tell Tim."

  "Stop saying that," I said. "I will once I'm on the plane. Anyway, I don't know if I'm staying there. We'll see how it goes."

  "You'll see how it goes?" Kelly said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. Have you been eating special brownies again?"

  "No," I said. I hadn't had any special brownies in a long time.

  Before leaving the house, I mapped out my entire trip. Once I landed at Heathrow, I'd take the Piccadilly subway (or tube) to Kings Cross station. From there, I'd head over to Jamie's street, Donegal Street, which was about a fifteen minute walk away, from what I researched online.

  I'll bring my music and everything will be fine, I told myself. Fenway Park is behind me. I can do this. I WILL DO IT and no one can stop me.

  As much as I wanted to tell Jamie, I didn't. First, I wanted to surprise him, second I was afraid he'd try to talk me out of it, and third he'd tell Tim who would definitely do what he could to stop me. No one knew except for Kelly.

  As if I were a little kid, Kelly walked me into the airport, my first time ever in one. There were noises and people and all kinds of clatter everywhere. Talk about complete sensory overload: voices mumbling over loud speakers that no one could understand, computer screens everywhere with departure times, all in tiny letters that were nearly impossible to read. My headphones were useful in drowning out the noise.