Tethered (J + P series)

by D. A. Roach

  “Oh, glad you’re OK” he said before going back to his computer.

  “See ya'” I said and turned away with Mags.

  When we were in the safety of the girl's wing Mags asked, “What's going on with you and Jared?”

  “What do you mean? Nothing.”

  “Perry, we all know you have feelings for Jared. Why are you being weird with him?”

  “Oh God, how can it be obvious to everyone but him? I must suck at this love thing. He flirts with me, and then blows me off. It's driving me nuts. I either need to marry him or kill him” I joked. Mags laughed at this crazy rant. “I don't know what to do. I think I just need to forget about him and let love come to me. I am trying too hard and wasting too many brain cells thinking about it. I plan on studying my tail off this semester and going to an occasional party to let off some steam. That's it. Oh, and seeing DisGrace. No Jared. No boyfriend drama.”

  “Of course” she winked. “Poor girl. Some guys are oblivious, I am sorry he sends you mixed signals. You'll find someone that's right for you when you least expect it.”

  “Thanks Mags. I needed to hear that.” she gave me a hug and we said goodnight to each other.

  The next morning was the lottery drawing for tickets to the DisGrace concert. Jen and I went together to the music hall to pick up our tickets. The drawing would take place later in the day. There was a sign posted on the music hall doors stating that each person possessing a winning lottery ticket may purchase up to 3 tickets. I quickly did the math; there were nine of us that wanted to attend. So three of us needed to get picked for us to buy enough tickets. It's nerve racking not knowing if we won. I tried to go about my day but my brain was thinking about the lottery. Music was such an important part of my life and I would love to see DisGrace in concert.

  After lunch I attended my last class of the day and swung by the music hall. They posted the lottery results. I dug into my back pocket and pulled mine out. #137. I scanned the numbers – there must have been over 500 numbers that they pulled. After scanning it thoroughly, I finally saw it...#137. YES! I was guaranteed a seat at the concert! I made it back to the dorm and pinned the ticket to my bulletin board. We could pick up tickets from the music hall in two weeks. I was so excited and no one seemed to be around to share the news. Maybe I should visit the gym. I threw on my workout clothes and decided to burn off some of this excited energy. At the gym I started with a warm up run and then moved on to weights. As I was doing bicep curls I noticed this guy staring at me. He's not gawking; it's more like he was trying to place me. I tried not to make eye contact with him because I felt uncomfortable. I was not sure if I had ever seen him before. I finished my set and moved to the mats for sit-ups. When I finished, I grabbed my coat and headed toward the doors. The staring guy came over to me and held the door for me. “Don't I know you from somewhere?” he had a Russian accent.

  “I don't think so, sorry.” I said as I was about to push past.

  “What is your major? Maybe I have you in a lecture hall.” he suggested.

  “Life sciences.”

  “Hmm, mine is international business – we probably are not in the same classes. Are you in the dorms or an apartment?” he continued prying.

  “Dorms, Owens – just next door.”

  “That's it! I am second floor guys’ wing. I must have seen you in the dining hall. I'm Leo.” he extended his hand.

  “Leo, nice to meet you. Next time I see you I will say hi.” I smiled and wiggled past him.

  “Bye Perry, nice to meet you too.” he said with a thoughtful look on his face.

  It was a strange interaction between the two of us, but he seemed nice enough. Back at the dorm I hit the shower to wash my sweat away. The nice thing about working out was I could skip get away without wearing makeup and look fine. My cheeks held the blush that surfaced on them from a solid workout. Mags and Lauren join me for dinner where we meet the rest of our gang, minus Jen and Edward. After we got our food and found a table, I noticed that Jared had a bandaged hand. I looked over at Greg and did not see any physical marring but the tension between he and Jared was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. “Hey Jared, what happened with the hand.” I asked. Everyone at the table looked down at him and was now curious.

  “Greg pissed me off and we got into a fight.” I glanced at Greg who is scratching his nose with his middle finger. Greg must still be annoyed with him.

  I couldn't believe they came to punches over something. Maybe they were bubbling over with annoyance with each other and needed to get some of it out. “What were you fighting about?”

  “Stupid DisGrace tickets. Greg won the lottery and was being a dick about it. Next thing I know, we were screaming and shoving each other.” Jared explained.

  “Jerk”, Greg muttered under his breath.

  “What about your hand? How did you hurt that?” Lauren asked.

  “I was so pissed I punched the brick wall and shredded the skin on my knuckles.”

  “Wow.” and that about summed it up. I announced that I won the lottery as well and we discovered that Lauren had too. So we had enough tickets for everyone to attend. I was dying to know the details of the fight between the boys but I didn't dare ask about it in front of everyone. I would hate to be in their situation right now – still volatile and having to hang in the same room as each other. After lunch, my friends were pumping me for info about Greg and Jared.

  “I have no clue. I mean I know they both want to go, so maybe they fought about something before they found out they won. They have not been getting along as well lately. Honestly, I am closer to Greg these days and he hasn't said much.” The girls were unsatisfied with my guesses/info and urged me to pry into their drama to satisfy their curiosities.

  Back at the room I called my parents. I was hopeful the conversation would go well since I was in a good mood. “Hey Mom and Dad”, they put me on speakerphone so they could talk to me at the same time. “Hey, how's school?” my dad asked.

  “Fine, studying hard as always. What's new with you guys?”

  “Not too much. We have been organizing things and working.” Mom said.

  “Oh yeah? Are you guys gonna' have a garage sale or just trying to declutter?”

  “Declutter, we donated a lot of items and threw a bunch out. You had some boxes that were just filled with junk. So we donated a lot of that stuff.” my mom replied in a flat tone.

  I was frozen and speechless, unable to form words with the panic rising in my chest. After a few moments, I find my voice and am able to ask which boxes they looked in.

  “The one's in your closet. Lots of crap in there, I don't know why you hadn't thrown that stuff away already.” she wondered.

  In my mind I was screaming at her and saying “I didn't throw it away because it BELONGED TO ME, MY MEMORIES, MY TREASURES, AND CREATIONS. NOT JUNK!” but nothing came out of my mouth. Words were useless against them. I couldn't get my stuff back. I was three hours away from them, with no car, no way to retrieve my items. I could not believe that they went into my closet, into a box with my name on it, and threw most of it away. What part of this planet could I safely call mine, where I did not have to fear my things would be taken away from me at any given moment? I felt the tears building behind my eyes. I had so much to say at that moment and despised them for making me unable to speak those words. All of those interactions with them growing up taught me to be silent. When I would find the courage to defend myself, they would either ignore me, turn my words around and tell everyone how disrespectful I was for saying it, or punish me. Silence never got me in trouble. “I gotta' go. Love you. Bye.” I hung up. I didn't even wait to see if they echoed my affections. I needed to calm down. I needed to release this feeling inside. I could feel their controlling coil wrap tighter around me. I scrambled for my pocket knife and was shaking from the emotions bubbling inside of me. I was about to burst from the pain and frustration I felt inside. I cut my inner forearm, just above my elbow. I broke
the skin but did not cut deep. The relief was instantaneous. I let the sorrow drip out of my body with the blood.

  I sat there, on the floor of my dorm room, with my back against the wall. My mind was beginning to quiet all the negative thoughts swirling about my head. The cutting took the physical pain I felt inside away, but it could not heal the mental wounds. When I came out of my emotional haze, I looked down at my bloody arm, and the bloody knife that cut my soft smooth skin. I felt disgusted and ashamed that I cut again. I knew I shouldn't do it, but I was afraid I might explode if I keep all those emotions stewing around inside of me. I took a few calming breaths and proceeded to clean up the blood and knife. After washing up with soap and water, I stared at the garbage can and debated whether I should throw the knife away. It's a little Swiss army knife with several mini tools, but I only used it for cutting. I walked over to the trash can and hold the knife over it. My breathing became more ragged and my hand started trembling. This damn knife was like a safety blanket for me. It took my pain away, I knew of no other way to cope. I pulled my hand back and stuffed the knife into my pocket. Then I put ointment on my cut and covered it with a bandage and a long sleeve shirt.

  I didn't want to go back to my room alone and be stuck in there with my thoughts. They were too dark, too negative, and being alone would not improve that. I needed a more public spot to pull out of this. The radio station is not being used, thankfully. I opened the door and turned on the cozy lighting (lava lamp and some Christmas lights hung from the ceiling). I left the door open to let wandering students know they could come in. I was not broadcasting, just hanging out and listening to whatever my heart needed at the moment. Music had always been an ointment for the wounds on my soul.

  After several songs I noticed someone standing against the wall in the doorway. Jared. He was standing with his arms folded, quietly watching me. He took my breath away, just the sight of him. His hair was messy, he had on a concert t-shirt, and ragged jeans. He was lean with broad shoulders and the dim lights made him look even better. “Whatcha' doin'?” he asked.

  “How long have you been standing there?” I returned, a little embarrassed.

  “Long enough.” he replied.

  I let out a big breath and turned my attention back to the controls, “I needed some music. My day has kinda sucked and I just needed to get away from it for awhile.”

  “Want me to leave?” he questioned.

  “No, please,” I added too hurriedly, “I left the door open on purpose, hoping for some company.”

  “Cool,” he planted his-self comfortably on the worn out couch. “Wanna' talk about what turned your day bad?”

  I thought about it, but shook my head. “Nah, too complicated.” I really wanted to tell him, but most people thought I was making it up. People could not believe my life was so screwed up, he'd probably think the same way. I decided to change the subject. “So, wanna' share the details about the fight you and Greg had?”

  “He was being a dick. He wouldn't tell me what number he had for the lottery. I don't know what his deal was but we exchanged some not-so-nice words and before you knew it we were pushing and shoving each other.”

  “This happened in your room?!” I ask astonished. He nods. “And your hand?” He lifts it before his face and studies it for a moment.

  “We both shouted and pushed each other, but in the end I was so pissed that I hit the brick wall and left. I never intended on fighting over something so childish.” he shook his head in disbelief.

  “Can I see it?”

  “My knuckles?” he asked. I nod with curiosity.

  He unwrapped his hand and there were scabs forming on three of the knuckles. The skin looks bruised around them as well.

  “Looks like you socked that wall pretty good. Is it still standing?” I joked, hoping to lighten both of our moods.

  “Yes, but not for long.” he teased back. Jared was awful cute when he was joking around with me. It also was pretty hot hearing him talk about the fight between Greg and him. I needed to get Greg's side of the story soon. They were irritating each other because they were friends coming into this roommate situation. And now they were around each other so much that their individual quirky behaviors were irritating one another. I felt bad for them; I liked them both and hoped their friendship did not dissolve completely.

  “You know, you are just getting on each other's nerves. Maybe you should study outside of the room a little more. Maybe study in here or at the library.” I suggested. “I guess I should feel lucky, with Gabby flunking out I don't even have to deal with roommate drama.”

  “That's right; I forgot that Gabby flunked out. You really are lucky to have that room to yourself.” he said enviously.

  “It's OK, but sometimes I wish I had a roommate, you know – someone to chat with at bedtime, or be sure you make it home from a party all right.” Jared looked at me and considered what I just said, “Nah, I wouldn't mind the solitude of a solo room. I still think you got the best deal.” I turned back to the controls and grabbed the next CD to put in.

  “Sorry you had a crappy day.” he said with a sideways smile on his face.

  “Thanks. And thanks for keeping me company in here.” I said. We spent the next hour and a half in there listening to deep, emotion-filled songs and exchanged light banter between us.

  When I felt better, we decided to close up the station and head back to our rooms. He approached me and got very close to me. In fact, he was so close that our Chuck Taylor's were touching and I could feel his breath when he spoke. He looked down at me, studying my face. “You gonna' be OK?” I nodded my head and looked down. I was not sure if I was going to be OK and I didn't want him to see that in my eyes. I didn't feel suicidal, but I did feel like all this negativity was rotting my soul away. It's like I was tethered to a whipping post and couldn't get free. Each negative comment or action was a scar on my soul, how much more could I endure? I didn't want Jared to see that in my eyes. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug. “If you ever wanna' talk about it, you know where I am.” I loved this boy, I needed him.

  “Goodnight Jared. Thanks.” As I walked away, I could still feel his eyes on me.

  Chapter 20

  April

  Several weeks passed and it's the same routine day in and day out. We made it to the DisGrace concert and enjoyed ourselves immensely. Greg and Jared seemed to be on better terms and finals and the end of our freshman year were quickly approaching.

  On Monday my R.A. knocked at my door just before dinner. “Hey Perry, I need to chat with you a moment.” Usually the RA only knocked at your door if she wanted to confront you about a broken rule. I was not nervous, because I couldn't possibly be in trouble.

  “What's up?”

  “Well, we need to move a girl into your room two days from now.” she said cautiously. I was in shock. I had been without a roommate for 3 ½ months and a month before finals they were going to put a roommate in with me?! That's nuts.

  “Why?” was all I could think to ask.

  “Well, she and her current roommate have restraining orders against each other and they need to be separated.”

  “Great.” I said sarcastically. “Not only do I have to adjust to a new roommate, but I get one with a restraining order.”

  “Please Perry, we have no other options.”

  “Fine. But I want to know what furniture she has. My parents are coming to visit this weekend and they can take back anything that's a duplicate. So especially tell me if she has a fridge or TV.”

  “You got it” she replied, “and thanks.”

  I walked away pissed. In my room I ran my hands through my hair, considered how this would upset the balance of my last month on campus. How could I think about studying for finals while trying to get used to living with a new person?

  At dinner that night I broke the news to my friends. They couldn't believe it and offered me their sympathy. That night I stayed up till 3AM watching MTV. I would probably
miss being able to watch TV whenever I wanted once my roommate arrived. The next morning was Saturday. My R.A. came by to tell me that my new roommate's name was Cindy and she had no TV and no fridge. I worked on homework till my parents arrived to take me out to lunch.

  “Hi Perry.” My parents arrived early, just as always. After exchanging a few pleasantries, we decided to enjoy the beautiful weather and walk around campus before heading to lunch. I was hoping for a pleasant visit with them, but I still felt a bit on guard. “So, with finals a few weeks away, do you have any idea if your grades are OK?” my dad inquired.

  “I think I am doing well. As long as I pass my finals I should see A's and B's.” I said confidently.

  “Good to hear. How do you think adding a new roommate will affect your studies?” he asked.

  “I don't know, but I don't really have a say in it. I hope it doesn't affect my studies at all.”