Pause

by CJ Adler

  “You little…she-devil!” Max yells just as the girl's mother appears and starts hitting Max with her bag upon hearing what he just said to her daughter. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” He flinches in pain before making a run for it, the mother chasing after him in her stilettos.

  “Stop harassing my daughter!” the mother shouts at him as she flings her bag at his face.

  “Your daughter is the devil!” Max calls back over his shoulder as he tries to escape the woman. However, even his speed is not enough to outrun a mother's wrath. She soon catches up to him and tackles him to the ground before tazing him repeatedly with her tazer.

  Max, electrified, begins to shake and convulse on the pavement. He looks up at Bells helplessly, slowly reaching out toward us with his hand. “Help me!” He screeches before being tazed again . His outstretched hand falls limply onto the ground soon after.

  “Max!” Bell shouts out in concern, only to end up dragging his limp body away from the vicious mother who still tries to spray him with pepper spray—as if he hasn't already had enough.

  “Leave him, Mumma. He's harmless,” the little girl insists, tugging her mom away from Bells and a semi-conscious Max.

  Max still finds it within him to yell at her as Bells keeps dragging him away. “I'm not harmless! I'm a dangerous criminal who should be acknowledged for his scariness! You should call the police and lock me up in a cell for eternity! I'm out of control! Just ask my existing, completely real girlfriend.”

  “Give it a rest already,” the little girl replies back. “My mommy was even able to beat you up,” she says before emphasizing her next few words. “Let. It. Go.”

  “I'm so bad I should be on death row!” Max insists from his rooted position on the floor; he can't even stand up.

  “Don't quit your day job, buddy.” The little girl winks down at him before skipping after her furious mother.

  I walk up to Bells and glance down at Max before shaking my head, 'tsking' him. “Today is just not your day, man.”

  “That little girl, Susie, has not seen the last of me! She's made it as my official archnemesis! Seeing as I'm such a great criminal, I'll obviously be the supervillain in this scenario,” Max, in pain and out of it, protests absentmindedly.

  I know which side I'm rooting for.

  “How do you know her name is Susie?” Bell asks him as she helps him up to his feet.

  “I'm surmising. She has pink frills, a lollipop, and that innocent look. She skips all about and — she's just Susie, okay, dammit, Bells!” Max huffs before dropping back down to the floor, unconscious.

  ***

  “You're coming along nicely now,” Mason compliments, packing his books into his backpack.

  “No thanks to you, sir,” I mock playfully, taking a bow before offering him a grateful smile.

  Max has also been helping me with my Maths. It seems as if I'm starting to overcome the challenge of doing better in my school subjects. It's a good thing too seeing as graduation day is around the corner.

  Mason, at first, avoided me after hearing about my relationship with Jay. Fortunately, it seems he's moved past all that drama. It's Jay that's doing all the avoiding now.

  Mason notices the missing presence in the house too. “You and Taylor still going strong?”

  “He's been 'off' this past week,” I confess begrudgingly.

  I don't miss the ghost of a smile that traces his lips upon hearing the news.

  He's quick to hide it. “Sorry to hear that,” he forces out.

  Sure he is.

  “I guess I'm just disappointed,” I admit, feeling a twinge of guilt for speaking about Jay to someone else without him being present in the room.

  “Well, if I'm in my rights here, I have to say that I did see this coming. Jay isn't the relationship type. I knew he'd mess up. Heck, everyone predicted this. A lot of people have been speaking about it. He can't hold down a relationship to save his life. He stuffs up everything good. He's a screw-up and he doesn't deserve you. He can't—”

  Slap!

  Mason stops talking when his head turns to the side after having been slapped through the face by me. I watch him in fury as he slowly, cautiously, turns his head back to me. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and rubs at his bruised cheek. “I was just being honest.”

  I scowl at him and point to the door. “Get out!” I yell at him, infuriated beyond measure. He definitely has no right to say something like that.

  He stares at me for a second longer, an apologetic expression lingering on his face as he comes to realize his mistake. “Aqueela, I'm sor—”

  “Get. Out,” I repeat through clenched teeth, scrutinizing each word, as I point to the door again.

  Just as he reaches for the door, it swings open.

  Jay steps in. He immediately feels the thick tension in the air. He ignores Mason's presence completely and turns to me first, a concerned expression on his face. “What happened?” he asks warily, glancing between Mason and me.

  “Maggot, over here,” I gesture to the idiot frozen in place, “just gave you flack for no reason. He keeps going on about how you're going to mess things up between us. Thus, I slapped him,” I explain briefly, not wanting to go into the specifics of what Mason said. “This time, I give you permission to punch him in the face.”

  Knowing Jay and his short temper, I expect him to immediately lose it and lash out at Mason like last time. He takes me by surprise when he doesn't. Instead, he sighs aloud as if tired of fighting.

  Jay catches me off guard a second time when he turns to face Mason, a blank look to his eyes. “Please leave,” he asks politely, holding the door open for Mason as if hurrying him to get out.

  Mason glares at Jay but leaves nonetheless, receiving no reaction from Jay. At this point, I really do believe that Jay couldn't care any less. He's given up.

  Jay closes the door after him, falling silent.

  “Why didn't you beat him to a pulp?” I complain, still insanely angry with

  Mason. I thought he changed.

  Jay holds my furious gaze for a second too long, his blue eyes portraying a sadness that quenches at my soul. “I didn't punch him, Aqueela, because he's right,” he concludes in a tone of finality before spinning around as if to make a quick escape upstairs without giving a proper explanation.

  I stop him, pulling him to halt. I glance up at him in concern. “What do you mean by that?”

  He stares down at me with a hesitant look before going on to explain his side, “I saw Grey today, heard what Nancy Montry had to say about me. Now Mason. I know there are others too. I hear the gossip in the hallways. They're all right. I'm going to mess up. I'm going to hurt you and then lose you. Might as well give up now before I grow too attached.”

  What Mason and many others are saying is affecting him negatively. He's starting to believe that all he's capable of is screwing things up. How can he believe differently when no one else allows him to?

  “Give up?” I repeat his words. “Give up on what exactly? Us? Me?”

  He remains silent, giving me my answer.

  “I can see you want to say something. Get it out of your system and just say it,” I order, hurt.

  He averts his eyes as if he can't stand to look at me before saying his next words in certainty, “I want to break-up.”

  I wasn't expecting that. “I want to start digging your grave,” I retort back rudely, unimpressed, as I try to hold my ground in front of him.

  “Go ahead,” he replies quietly, his stubborn self coming into play. “I deserve it.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, my defense mechanism, and wait for him to meet my gaze again. “If you're going through with this, at least give me a plausible reason.”

  What can he possibly say that will justify this?

  He summons the courage to meets my gaze head-on, his striking blue eyes commanding my full attention. “I'm not boyfriend material. Everyone expects the worst of me when it comes to you. When hearing it all the time, i
t becomes impossible for me to not expect the worst of me too. Eventually, I'm going to mess up just like everyone has predicted. I'm going to hurt you and that's something I never want to do—”

  “You're doing it now,” I interrupt him with a sharp glare.

  His gaze softens when he realizes that my angry tone is nothing but an act to hide how I really feel. “You deserve so much better than me, Aqueela,” he confesses, going by what his heart is saying. “I mean it. It's not just some line, I really mean it.”

  “Do you not want to be with me?” I ask him bluntly, needing to know where he's at. He says one thing but does another.

  He's quick to shake his head. “No!” he says, raising his tone, worried that his words aren't being delivered properly. “No,” he confirms with conviction. “I want to be with you. I've always wanted to be with you.”

  At a loss, I furrow my eyebrows. “Then what is it? Is being with me a mistake?”

  “If being with you is a mistake, then so is me breathing,” he murmurs, his words sending my heart straight into overdrive. “I've made a ton of mistakes but you, Aqueela Lawson, are not one of them and you never will be.”

  He's one in a million.

  “You're holding back,” I point out, bringing the fact to his attention. “Why are you so insecure about being in a relationship with me? And don't tell me it's because of what people are saying because I know you and I know that you couldn't care less as to what people, especially the Montrys, think. So, tell me then, what's holding you back? What are you so afraid of ?”

  His warm, blue eyes turn cold under my unwavering gaze. “I'm terrified of seeing you leave out that door. No relationship I've ever known, be it friends or family or anything else, has ever worked out. I'm the common factor. I'm the cause and I'm afraid of being the cause in losing you too.”

  He wants to break-up, but not because he doesn't care about me, but because he cares too much. He's lost faith in himself. He believes he's only capable of messing up. It's my job, as his girlfriend, and more importantly, his friend, to prove him wrong.

  Acting on instinct alone, I pull him down to me by the collar of his shirt and stand on my tippy-toes so that we're at the same height. “Jay Taylor, you're never going to lose me,” I finalize. “I know you're scared of giving 'us' a shot. Truthfully, a part of me is too, but we'll get through it together, like always.”

  He tries to suppress a smile but it's not long before a breathtaking grin edges its way over his lips. With my heart hammering hard in my chest, I grab ahold of his jacket with both my hands and kiss him, my eyes fluttering closed.

  Despite just calling for a break-up, he kisses me back. I feel him breathe against my lips, his arms automatically wrapping around my waist. He draws me closer to him until I feel his quick heartbeat.

  I pull away from him and lean my forehead against his, my eyes still closed and my fingertips now resting on the base of his neck. “You're not pulling out of this relationship so easily. I won't let you. We're in for the long run,” I murmur through parted lips.

  He senses the truth in my words because his expression changes. He grins down at me before suddenly picking me up and swinging me around. I laugh. He grins and places me down on the kitchen counter.

  I stare up at him as he hesitantly lowers his head and softly brushes his lips against mine. His blue eyes lock onto me when I reach up and softly trace his jaw with my knuckles. “What's wrong?” I ask tenderly.

  He doesn't answer and moves closer as if never wanting to separate. I laugh yet again. He glances down at me with those depths of blue entwined with silver and cocks his head to the side, a boyish smile on his face as he takes in my features. “What's so funny?”

  “Nothing,” I lie, biting my bottom lip as I run my fingers through his hair and purposely mess it up.

  A playful frown etches its way onto his lips as he moves his hands off of my waist. He leans forward, placing both his hands on either side of me on the kitchen counter, encasing me in against him. “Liar,” he whispers teasingly.

  “Gah! My virgin eyes!”

  Even when hearing Max's voice, Jay and I don't even bother to pull away from each other.

  “Gosh, get a room. Get an entire house! Too much PDA,” Max whines, unaware that we do have a room and an entire house, one that he keeps invading like the pesky pest he is.

  I roll my eyes, the sound of his voice unbearable, as I reluctantly push Jay away from me and hop off the countertop. “That's what you get for waltzing into

  Jay's house unannounced and uninvited.”

  “Jay's house is that house where everyone and anyone are all welcome,” Max insists, oblivious.

  Jay sighs in irritation. “Yeah, apparently that's what my house has come to nowadays. I used to be intimidating.”

  Keywords: Used to.

  Bells steps in next and glances around, her interest piqued. “What's all the commotion about?”

  “I found Jay and Aqueela on the kitchen counter together,” Max answers her all too eagerly.

  “How scandalous!” Bells gasps overdramatically before shooting me a wink, knowing fully well that Max is talking nonsense.

  The corners of Jay's lips lift into a suggestive grin as he exploits my obvious embarrassment, shooting me a flirty wink.

  “Don't encourage him, Jay,” I complain, swatting him on the chest.

  He merely smirks, his arm winding around my waist as he draws me to his side before placing an affectionate kiss against the side of my head. “But it's so much fun.”

  “You two are so cute!” Bell gushes, relieved that we've sorted through our issues.

  “One of us is,” Jay agrees, grinning at my friend charmingly before smiling down at me in mischief. “It's me.”

  “Pshaw!” I scoff, disagreeing. “It's totally me! Have you seen my smile?”

  “I certainly have,” Jay retorts, grinning down at me in all playfulness.

  “I think I'm going to puke.” Max gags, disgusted.

  I roll my eyes at him. We're not nearly as disgusting a couple as they are.

  “Be careful,” Max warns Jay, “she's particularly violent today. She punched me in the face.”

  No regrets here.

  Jay flashes Max a grin, amused. “Been there, done that. Besides, I bet you were asking for it.”

  I frown at Max. “You had a mask on and you came from behind like a coward. It was a must,” I say, defending myself against his false accusations.

  “You can hold your own, I'll give you that,” Max admits, giving me credit where credit is due. “Reminds me of that slap you gave me when I kissed you.”

  Jay scowls as a result. “Don't remind me. I'm still trying to get over that.”

  “Tell me about it,” Bell pipes up in repulse.

  “What are you two doing here anyway?” Jay asks them.

  Max grins in response, holding up a football jersey with our school's logo on it. Bells grins giddily as she nods enthusiastically at us, her entire face beaming.

  I raise a skeptical eyebrow, unsure. “What?”

  “We're all — and by all, I mean our entire group — going to the last football game of the season!” Max exclaims, pumped up.

  “Count me out,” Jay mutters, not eager at all. “I don't do high school functions or school spirit. Or any spirit. My spirit died. It's dead now.”

  “The season ended months ago, Max,” Bell corrects her boyfriend, reminding him that he wasn't even there for the last game of the season. “This is just a friendly game. Everyone's attending for fun.”

  “I'm with Jay, always am,” I reply, letting them know where I stand.

  “Aww, come on! It will be fun! It's tradition,” Bell insists, trying to persuade us into joining. “With graduation around the corner, it might be one of our last events where all of us are together. Even Troy's going to be there.”

  “How is it tradition if this is the first 'fun' game the school has ever hosted?” Jay asks, calling her out on her manip
ulation tactics.

  Troy’s name catches my attention. She's convinced me already. “I'm in!” I agree instantly, a bright smile on my face. I've really missed Troy and if he's going to be back in town, I'm not going to miss the opportunity to see him.

  “Still out,” Jay flatly refuses the invite, stubborn as always. I nudge him in his side. “Please,” I beg.

  He glances down at me before caving in with a groan. “Fine, but I guarantee that I will despise every second of it.”

  Chapter 49

  The Meet up

  “Run, run, as fast as you can, Mr. Gingerbread Man!” I chime tauntingly, humming to myself in content as I make my gingerbread cookie man run along the arm of the pink and blue couch in fear.

  I come up from behind like a wild beast and glare down at my small cookie man. “You can run but you can't hide,” I growl menacingly before reaching down and stuffing the poor, defenseless gingerbread man into my mouth.

  I chomp down on him greedily, merciless, as if having been starved for years. Upon finishing, I let out an evil cackle at murdering Mr. Gingerbread Man— the very bane of my existence.

  “Does she always play with her food like a four-year-old before devouring it like a sociopath?” I hear a voice ask from somewhere in front of me.

  My head snaps up to see Jay and Grey both staring down at me like I belong in an asylum.

  “Yeah…pretty much,” Jay answers, a small smile on his face as he reminisces back on all the times I've done that.

  “See. This is exactly why I didn't want to come,” Grey, as usual, complains.

  I awkwardly cough and clear my throat, forcing a smile. “Hey, guys,” I greet, sending both of them a sheepish wave. “Sorry you had to witness that gruesome sight. Things got bloody…violent, if you will.”

  “Why do I have to go? I'm nineteen, I'm not even in school anymore,” Grey asks Jay, brushing my presence off completely.

  Ever since we told all of our friends — oh, and Grey — about attending the football game, Grey's been whining like a baby, trying to worm his way out of it. However, Jay is forcing him because I'm forcing Jay and Jay doesn't want to bear the football game alone. It's true bromance at its finest.