by J. L. Beck
Jules starts walking toward me, and I have to remind myself to calm down. Breathe. Don’t react. Just breathe. She pushes past me and walks out of the building and I let her, afraid that if I grab her now, things might end badly. Following behind her, my feet slap against the pavement.
Who the fuck does she think she is?
She makes me insane, with need, with anger...I’m losing my damn mind because of her. It doesn’t take long for me to catch up to her and when I do, I can’t stop myself. I grab her by the shoulders, my fingers wrapped so tight around her slender arms I’m sure I’ll leave bruises.
I don’t want to hurt her, not physically at least, but she’s driving me mad. She closes her eyes as if she can’t fathom looking at me, but I need her to fucking look at me. I need to see the look in her eyes when she tells me the truth.
“Open your fucking eyes and tell me why you would lie? Why would you make up something like that? It’s fucking pathetic, even for someone like you.” I shake her small body, her silky blonde curls escape from behind her ears and her big eyes blink open.
Her gaze locks with mine and that’s when I see it. The pain, the anger, and loss all staring back at me. It’s heartbreaking the way she’s looking at me and I want to pull her into my arms, kiss her and tell her everything is going to be okay.
“I didn’t lie, Jackson is dead,” she says quietly, her voice breaking at the end.
I can feel a wave of grief and sadness building up, ready to crash over me, but I push it away. Not ready to face all of that yet, I let anger overcome me instead and I release her with a shove. She stumbles backward and I almost reach out for her again to steady her, but instead, I shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself.
“And you didn't think that I deserved to know? Why wouldn't you tell me that my best friend is dead?”
She laughs, but it’s not laughter she’s emitting, it’s pain, thick and heavy. “Oh, when would you have liked me to do that, Remington? When you ordered me to stay out of your way and you acted like we didn’t know each other or maybe when you told me not to call you by the name I’ve called you since I was five? Oooo, maybe when you had your fingers deep inside me or when you all but told me to leave you the fuck alone or face the consequences? Please, tell me, which time should I have dropped that fucking bomb on you?”
My teeth grind together, and for once in my fucking life, I don’t know what to fucking say. I’ve been beating her down with my words, trying my best to make her feel as weak as she makes me feel, and this whole time she’s been suffering the loss of her brother, my best fucking friend. Losing Jackson was almost as tough as losing Jules, she had my heart, had me wrapped around her tiny little finger.
“He was my best friend…” I say more to myself than her.
“Yeah, so was I but you seem to have forgotten that part of your life.” She shoves at my chest to get me out of the way, her touch zings through me, restarting my heart and I listen to her feet, every step, as she walks farther and farther away from me.
Her footsteps sound just like they did all those years ago when she walked away, hollow, leaving a gaping hole inside my chest.
It takes me a long moment to regain my composure. Tears sting my eyes. I look around wiping at my eyes. I don’t fucking cry, and I haven’t since the day they both left me. I think about Jules, about the pain I’m causing her, about my revenge, about my own selfish needs. I’ve only ever loved her…her and my mother, and my mother never came back for my brothers and me, she’s never even fucking called.
Jules, she’s here now…but how can I forgive her for leaving me in the first place?
I’ve never been so conflicted in my life…so out of control.
I can’t let go of the pain. I can’t be weak by giving into her touch, her tears, her angelic face. But the thought of hurting her more than she’s already been hurt sickens me.
I hate myself for doing this to her...for doing this to me but had she not left me, had she not shattered my heart, we wouldn’t be here right now.
6
Jules
I’m so freaking tired I can barely put one foot in front of the other. I’ve never been so exhausted, mentally and physically. I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything this morning either. I spent most of the last twelve hours crying and I’m sure it still shows in my face now. At least that’s why I hope everybody is looking at me with a disgusted expression on their face.
I try to ignore all the stares and whispers everywhere I go, but it gets exponentially harder to do so when I get to calculus and the whispers start to sound more like screams.
“She lied about her brother being dead…who does that?”
I don’t even turn my head to see who is talking.
“I heard she did it for sympathy, so she could stay somewhere for free.”
I should have known that what happened yesterday in bio would spread through the gossip web like wildfire. And it should come as even less of a surprise that everybody thinks I’m the bad guy. Of course, Remington can do no wrong, god forbid the asshole take responsibility for his actions. I mean who calls someone out like that in front of a whole classroom full of people? A bully that’s who.
Tears prick at my eyes thinking about him.
No, I’m not going to cry again.
“I bet she didn't even have a brother…” someone whispers behind me and somehow hearing those words hurt more than any other comment I’ve heard today.
Call me a liar and a cheater. Call me a bitch or a whore, but somebody telling me that my brother never existed at all is too much. All I have left of him are memories and for someone to say that those are not real, causes the hole in my chest to ache so badly I can barely breathe. I get up from my seat and walk out of the classroom before the professor even opens his book.
I can feel eyes on me, and it literally has my stomach churning, acid rising in my throat with every step I take. I don't care if I fail every single class right now.
All I want to do is curl up in my bed and cry my eyes out. I don’t want to be around these people or listen to their pitiful rumors. It doesn’t take long for me to make my way back to the house, and the second I walk in the door, things get even worse.
“Jules, we need to talk,” Cally says while glaring at me.
“Cally, please, I can’t do this with you right now,” I choke out, pushing past her. I walk into my room hoping she doesn’t follow, but of course, I wouldn’t get that lucky.
“Listen, I think you should find a new place to stay, this isn’t working out.”
I fight back the tears, trying to hold them in. This entire day has been shit, and now I come home to this.
“Okay, I’ll pack up my stuff,” I tell her just so she will stop talking to me. I close my bedroom door in her face, and sag down onto the bed, placing a pillow over my face. The tears fall, and they just keep coming with no end in sight.
How can one person have so many tears?
“Jules!” Remington called my name. I could hear the laughter in his voice. “Come out.” My heart was racing out of my chest. I had never remained hidden this long.
“Did you find her yet?” I heard my brother ask.
“Nope...she’s switched up her hiding spots.” His words made me smile. At the end of each day, I went home with my cheeks hurting from smiling so much. The sound of branches breaking off in the distance told me my brother was walking away to look elsewhere.
I nibbled on my bottom lip and waited with bated breath for Remington’s footsteps to follow. My brow furrowed after a few minutes, and I popped my head out from behind the tree I had been hiding behind for the last ten minutes.
As soon as I did, I spotted Remington, his big green eyes dazzling in the summer sun.
“Found you!” he yelled, and a pout formed against my lips.
“I would’ve won if you just walked away.” I knew I shouldn’t be mad, it wasn’t like they never let me win, but I was so
close to doing it on my own this time. If only I had more patience.
Remington crossed the ten feet that separated us, his hands reaching for me out of instinct. He always protected me, cherished me, and I would consider him to be like another brother if I didn’t always picture myself kissing him.
“If it helps any, I had no idea where you were hiding, Jules. I just knew I couldn’t leave you out here alone.” And just like that, I wasn’t upset over losing anymore. I licked my lips and peered up in Remington’s eyes.
“Looks like you lost again.” Jackson’s teasing voice filled my ears, and Remington pulled away as if he knew that my brother would kick his butt for touching me. It had happened before, they fought a couple of times over boy stuff, stuff they always told me was none of my business.
“Shut up, J,” Remington growled, and I merely snickered.
I was pretty sure I loved Remington Miller more than ever that day.
The memory from that day and all the other happy memories seem as if they’re from a distant world, a different life, one that is fading away with each passing day. I lean over the edge of the bed and grab the box from underneath it. Setting it on the bed in front of me, I take a minute to ready myself to open the lid. I already feel broken, Remington, taking the last of my whole pieces and shattering them with his assault on me yesterday.
I open the box and stare at the picture laying on top. I take a moment to stare at it, to feel the memory from that day. It’s Jackson on his most recent birthday, he is smiling at the camera, not a worry in the world. His smile is infectious, bright, and he looks happy, beyond happy.
His blue eyes gleam, and I’ll never forget what he said to me that night. He hugged me, kissed me on top of the head like he always did. Had I known it would be my last hug, my last conversation with him, I would’ve hung on a little longer. I tell myself over and over again that there was no way we could have possibly known that this was the last picture we would ever take of him? Or the last time we would ever see him alive.
With shaking hands, I grab the stack of pictures and spread them out on the bed. Most of them are of Jackson and me, but there are a few of all three of us and some of just Remmy and I. One picture is of us laying in the grass, we are both looking at each other with nothing but love. I remember the way I felt that day, the emotions coursing through my veins.
I thought I would be with him forever. I thought he would be my first, my last, my everything. We look like different people in those pictures and not just because we have grown up since they were taken. It’s more like the things that have happened to us changed us. Changed the way we feel and think…changed how we look at the world.
I don’t know how long I stare at those pictures, wishing with everything inside of me that I could go back to those days, and that they weren’t just a memory.
I wish I could see my brother again, see Remmy again…the Remmy I know…the one that loved me and cared for me. God, do I wish he was the same person. I don’t want to admit it, but I need him. I need him so badly right now.
A knock on the door pulls me from my fantasy world. This isn’t going to be good. I look up, just as the door comes swinging open and Cally walks in. I wipe the tears staining my cheeks with the back of my hands as if that would make them disappear. Anybody with eyes can see I’ve been crying from a mile away and that I’m on the verge of a mental break down.
“I thought you were packing not looking at pic…” Her words catch in her throat when she looks down at the pictures spread out across my bed. Her green eyes go wide with shock and maybe even a little confusion and for a moment she just stares with her mouth gaping open.
“Is that…?” She closes her mouth and blinks as if she can’t really believe what she was just about to ask, or what she’s seeing.
“Cally…I never meant to hurt you. I know you like him…it’s hard not to, believe me, I know, but I’ve loved Remmy since we were kids… since before I knew what love even was.”
“You’ve known him since you were kids? And you really do have a brother?”
I nod my head in response.
“These pictures are from when we were growing up. We used to be neighbors. He was best friends with my brother and me. There was a time when I couldn't even imagine not having them in my life and now, I have neither of them.”
“What happened?” Her question is like a knife to the gut, and I find myself gulping, for air, for words to answer her question, for a damn reason as to why it all fell apart.
Is there really an answer to what happened? I’ve always looked at it as a learning curve to life. I couldn’t stop my parents from getting a divorce, from my mother working, or my father moving away. I couldn’t stop our friendship, or mine and Remington’s love from crumbling to pieces. There was literally nothing I could do to save us, and I think he knew it too. I think he knew it and so he hurt me before I could hurt him.
“We moved, is the short answer. My brother is a story for another day.” I give her a sad smile. I don’t dare mention the fact that Remington’s mother leaving only made matters worse. She chose liquor over her children, and the person it hurt most was Remington because when no one else in their family believed she would get better, he did. He believed so much he thought he could make her better, he thought he could fix her...but, in the end, he couldn’t.
“Well, that explains a lot, I guess.” Her tone tells me there is more to what she is saying, and I can’t help but wonder what I am missing.
“What do you mean?”
She looks at me sheepishly. “Well, Remington texted me to meet up with him yesterday. I thought he wanted to hang out, but he wouldn’t shut up about you. I figured it was because of what happened earlier that day… I mean, I like him, Jules, but having a crush on someone and loving them are two completely different worlds.”
And boy did I know that.
When I don’t say anything she says, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see this before.”
“I don’t blame you, you didn’t know, and I don’t expect you to understand. I just don’t want you thinking I was trying to steal him out from underneath you. I’m not like that. The only reason I didn't say anything is because chances are Remington and I will never be anything more than enemies now. He hates me, and he’s pretty close to achieving his goal of making me hate him back.”
Cally frowns. “Since he started school here, he’s been lost, angry at the world. He’s a really sweet guy sometimes, but only when he wants something. But if he’s not fucking you, then he generally doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“I know. I discovered that really quickly. I made the mistake of hugging him on my first day. He doesn’t like to be touched…”
“Looking at these pictures, it seems he didn’t always used to be that way. I mean he’s hugging you and holding your hand in quite a few of those images.” She pauses, smiling at me, and I know we’re back to being on the same page again.
“I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard a rumor that he never kisses the girls he screws. Maybe that has something to do with you?” She lifts her eyebrows in question, like I could provide her with an answer.
A nervous knot forms in my belly. I doubt what she is saying is true, how could you have sex with someone and not kiss them, ever? Remington doesn’t take me as the type of guy to not kiss a woman. Then I think back to his reaction from when I kissed him... how cold he was at first...how unresponsive. I thought maybe it was because he didn’t want to kiss me, but now maybe it was because of something else entirely.
“How do you not kiss someone the entire time you’re having sex with them?”
Cally grins and I feel like I’m giving myself away and the fact that I’m still a virgin. “It’s easy. Just do them from behind and you don’t have to worry about it. If they can’t see you, and their lips are nowhere near yours, then you don’t risk them touching. And like I said, the rumor is strong around here, since that’s something he does often.”
“That seems like an asshole thing to do,” I mutter, picking up the pictures and placing them back inside the box.
Cally watches me for a long moment, and I’m thankful to have her as a friend today, as someone I can confide in.
“Well, Remington is kind of an asshole, and obviously nothing like the person you used to know... and I know you know that Jules, but something tells me he won’t change simply because you showed up.”
She doesn’t have to tell me that.
“I know, believe me, I know. I’m confident the boy I fell in love with in those pictures is nothing but a fading memory, one that will eventually be washed away and replaced with the cruel man he blames me for becoming.”
“Don’t let him blame you. In the end, we all have our own choices to make. He chose to become the person he is today, and no matter what, he can’t put that hate on you. Life goes on, and it’s obvious he’s still living in the past.”
“I won’t. I haven’t let him blame me thus far.” I give her a smile.
“You don’t have to move out. I mean unless you want to. I was just being a bitch, but I don’t want you to move out. Bridget and I love having you here.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. Moving back in with my mother would suck, but I would do it if I had nowhere else to go. My father left everything to my brother and me, but since my brother is gone now, it all fell into my lap, the house, the life insurance.
“Take all the time you need, and if you ever want to talk, you know where my room is. I’m sorry for being an asshole. I liked Remington, I really did, but after seeing all of this, I know I don’t stand a chance.” She gives me a reassuring smile before slipping out of the bedroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts.