About two weeks later, his flirting escalated even further.
“When are we going to go out?”
I laughed in disbelief. “Whenever you want to go.”
I thought that maybe Helena’s teasing was carrying over from the classroom to the car, so I played along with him. I tried acting nonchalant, yet was anything but. I was floored.
It ended up turning into a weekly thing. Jared even asked for my phone number at one point, but neither of us made a move to actually make plans. It was bizarre. I didn’t know how else to handle the odd state of play I found us to be in. His picking up my hand to look at my ring, turned into him briefly winding his fingers with mine. The first time he did it, I hesitantly looked at his calm face, yet his eyes said something more. Something he couldn’t, maybe. Although I knew he didn’t really want to go out with me, the affectionate closeness that was occurring between us felt…real…like he wasn’t putting on a show, since we were alone in the car and had no audience.
Jared continued to do that with my hand, still without a word said. I didn’t question him about it because I was afraid if I did and he shrugged it off, then it would burst our little bubble we had built around us, or the bubble I had built around us in my head and heart. The cars were the only places we could quietly get to know each other, even if we didn’t talk about what was happening between us. Though he didn’t say it or follow through, from his touches, the few words he said, and the looks he gave me, I swear I wasn’t imagining that he wanted more.
Regardless, I couldn’t fathom why he’d want anything more from me. He had my number, but he didn’t call. I lamely sat by the phone every night, yelling at anyone who talked more than five minutes, call waiting be damned. After a week of sitting by the phone, I scolded myself for being tremendously misguided, and from then on, I was positive he really wasn’t serious. So, I proceeded as such.
Nevertheless, all that fell apart a few days later when Jared stopped by my locker on the way to his class.
“Kit Kat, are you coming to the game Friday?”
“I might. Why?”
“Watch me play. I’ll score you a touchdown.”
“You will?” His grin matched mine as he nodded. “I’ll be watching you then.”
He said, “Then I’ll be watching for you.”
I had gone to the game, but number 55 didn’t score a touchdown. I watched Jared nearly every second I could, but didn’t see him once look into the stands. After the game, I waited for him to come out of the locker room. I felt weird and out of place, so I didn’t wait too long. I had ridden with my impatient, older brother Peter, so I couldn’t anyway. At school, Jared asked me if I was at the game, saying he didn’t see me there. I told him I was and relayed things he had done during the game, which seemed to surprise him.
Confusion flooded me again the day he sat down next to me on a bench outside of school, waiting for our instructors to arrive.
“If I brought you my spare football jersey, would you wear it Friday?”
I laughed, but he didn’t, so I swiftly sobered. “Um, are you serious?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
I nearly stuttered, “Why would you ask me to wear it?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Nervously, I said, “Ok, I’ll wear it.” His smile was immediate and so bright.
Friday morning came, but Jared didn’t stop by my locker or find me to give me his jersey. I would’ve worn it, but apparently, he wasn’t as serious as he claimed to be.
Our driver’s ed. class was finished by winter break and I became depressed because every day, I’d wait for Jared to call me, but he didn’t, and since our class was officially over, I thought his association with me was over, too.
One Saturday over break, I was riding with my grandmother to get groceries. On the way home, out of the blue, she pulled over and told me to drive. At first, I protested, but she laughed and got out of the car, telling me to not think about it too long because she didn’t want her ice cream in the trunk to melt. It was winter! I still hadn’t gotten my driver’s license since class had finished, so I was only driving with a permit, which made me nervous, unlike my grandmother, who didn’t seem to be. I reluctantly got behind the wheel, uneasy about driving her car and having her as my passenger. Pulling back onto the road, I drove for about two miles when an oncoming car crossed the centerline into my lane, hitting us head on. My grandmother was killed instantly. I don’t remember anything after the impact. I sustained a fractured skull, a broken neck, broken nose, broken left arm, fractured ribs, and my right lung collapsed. I was put into a medically induced coma for over a month due to the brain swelling. The nightmares I had while I was under were like a never-ending horror movie, and stayed with me for months afterward.
I found out that a deer had run out in front of the approaching car, and the driver panicked, swerving into us. I didn’t have time to react, but I obviously reacted wrong, since I killed my grandmother.
Not many people came to visit me from school during my long hospital stay. My mom said once I was out of my coma, but sleeping, a few of my friends popped their heads in to see if I was still alive, but many felt uneasy and didn’t stay long. They had left cards and flowers, which were nice gestures, yet it also made me realize how little I meant to Jared after all, since he didn’t visit me.
I finally was allowed to return to school two months later. I had been in the hospital for Christmas and New Year’s, but that didn’t matter since I didn’t have my grandmother, and I was the reason for that. I also didn’t have Jared, not that I ever really had him.
Since the accident, I’ve been left with motor glitches such as a Swiss-cheese memory, a lapse in speech at times, and often have trouble writing down something. My problem isn’t physiological, but a mental block that won’t let me carry out a task for several seconds. Either stemming from the accident or the anesthesia drugs, the doctors had said it may pass, but it has yet to.
When Jared saw me my first day back to school, he stopped to ask me how I was doing in front of my friends, who still thought our status quo was weird. Although I was hurt he hadn’t visited me in the hospital or at home, I was glad that he was still acknowledging me. Just like driver’s ed. the previous semester, we fell into a routine of knowing where each other would be at certain times of the day. He also seemed to not be able to keep his hands off me again. He was constantly putting his arm around me, rubbing the nape of my neck, playing with my hair, or landing his Colts cap onto my head. My friends were flabbergasted. They asked if we were going out yet, but once more, Jared and I were in the peculiar situation we were in months before. It was like we were facing off, neither willing to budge to move things forward for us. Or maybe I was delusional, thinking that he wanted to move anything forward.
Following an empty summer, waiting to hear from Jared but was greatly disappointed, the new school year, when I was a junior and Jared was a senior, we once again passed each other often going to class. I was frustrated that we were back to the same, bland greetings in the halls the first week.
We were friends, if I could really call us that. Jared didn’t ask me out again, but he did stop me on my way to class, wanting to know my plans for the first dance of the school year, and if I’d save him a dance. Saturday came, but once there, he danced with other girls. We did catch each other’s eye most of the night, but he never asked me to dance. So maddening. It was as if he was taunting me. I was devastated and I think he knew it. I was shy and didn’t want to ask him since it looked like he had no problems finding other willing participants, and he’d easily blow me off over them.
I’m forever baffled about his actions and non-actions.
The biggest blow yet came the week after the dance when I saw one of the girls Jared had danced with, wearing his #55 jersey on game day Friday. I was beyond heartbroken. I ran into the nearest restroom, hyperventilating or near death. Whichever one it was seared my heart and tore out my stomach. I was praying it was
death, and I had already been at that particular door.
The following weeks, I was cold to Jared. Upon my entering the gym for a school assembly, he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, and put his chin on my shoulder. His lips were so close, and his breath bathed my cheek. His musky cologne clouded my thoughts. I anxiously mumbled a hello, careful not to touch his arms clasped around me, and kept talking to my wide-eyed friends. If he had a girlfriend, I wasn’t going to encourage him to touch me anymore. I felt like he was crossing a line that he shouldn’t be.
I also started taking a new route to my two classes where I usually ran into him, coming and going, arriving right before the second bell rang, and darting out fast as soon as class ended, so I was sure not to see him.
Evidently noticing a change, three or four days later, Jared cornered me in the hallway, where our classrooms were next door to each other’s. Apparently, he caught on to what I was doing and waited for me, making us both late to class.
“What’s wrong, Kit Kat?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“We used to talk, but now we don’t.”
“We’re not in the same class anymore.”
“That can’t be the real reason. Are you mad at me?”
“No.”
“Why are you avoiding me then?”
“I’m not.”
“Did I do something?”
“No. We’re going to be late for class.”
His face was inches from mine, and people were scurrying past us to class. I couldn’t look him in the eye. I desperately wanted to talk to him, to ask why we hadn’t gone out, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself. Even more, I didn’t want to ask him about the girl wearing his jersey because I didn’t want to hear him admit to having a girlfriend that wasn’t me. That would have hurt more than seeing them dancing or her wearing his shirt.
Despite all of it, I wanted to forget the bullshit and kiss him hard, claiming him as mine, but I couldn’t. He was off limits. We were only friends, if we were even that anymore.
He had stepped back and let me escape, but another incident was soon to follow.
I began walking around the halls at lunch with my friends, one of which was a boy. Jared had a different lunch hour, so I was surprised when I saw him in the hall during my lunch. We didn’t say anything to each other, but the irritated look on his face said plenty. Later that afternoon, between classes, he grabbed my arm, dragging me to the side.
“Is that guy your boyfriend?”
“What guy?”
“The one you were walking around with earlier?”
“No. Why?”
He relaxed. “I just wanted to know.”
Jared said nothing more. He walked away and I was left gawking after him, utterly confounded.
After that encounter, I saw him talking to his new girlfriend. It was a shot in my gut each time I saw them together, or her wearing his 55.
The school year was long and tedious, filled with teasing and frustration. He didn’t ask me to dance at any of the monthly school dances, let alone ask me to go to Homecoming or Prom, so I wasn’t inclined to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins’ Dance, either. By January, I had stopped going to the dances altogether. It was too hard for me. Of course, Jared questioned me why I wasn’t there. I had only told him that they were boring, which, really, was the absolute truth. I just left out that it was torture watching him watching me from afar.
A week before his graduation, Jared cornered me one last time.
“Are you going to miss me, Kit Kat?”
“Yes.”
“Will you think about me?”
I couldn’t lie. “Every day.”
He grinned. “I promise I’ll call you in a few days.”
My own smile was unanticipated. “Ok.”
Jared graduated and moved away to college, never calling me, leaving me to wonder what happened or why he seemed to care a little, yet took off without another glance. He couldn’t even spare a true, second glance when he showed up at my mom’s house for the rebuild.
I knew Jared wanted to go to college at Johns Hopkins and I didn’t expect him to live in Annapolis after graduation. I slowly tried to move on. He had moved on with someone, so I had to, also. There was no other way around it. I had started dating a guy my last year of high school, just because he was there, really. I wasn’t into him, but he seemed to want to be with me, and that was what I was missing from Jared. However, nobody made my stomach do somersaults like Jared did. We hadn’t even kissed, but that’s the power he had over me.
I had fallen in love with Jared, but he left. I had meant nothing to him.
I went on to college and became a teacher. I also had a second nose job done, hating that because of my accident, I was unconscious and had the surgery before I could tell them how I wanted it to look. A year later, one of my coworkers set me up on a blind date with a lawyer. Jed and I dated for eight months when one day he brought up marriage, and we just decided to do it at the courthouse. I wanted to finally erase Jared from my heart, but even Jed’s name reminded me of Jared’s, so it was impossible. We managed to stay married two years, but when his job transferred him to California, neither of us was too upset when I decided not to go. We quietly parted ways. It should be more complicated and emotional than that, but it wasn’t, which is probably even sadder in itself.
I never did get my driver’s license. I’m still petrified. Jed tolerated me because he only had to drive me to the bus stop. Now, I rely on my mother to carpool in the mornings. My dad refuses to drive me anywhere still, refusing to “enable” me. My mom seems to sympathize with me, or maybe she just doesn’t want me on the road, since I killed her mother.
That haunts my every single day.
I had Jared Beckett in the palm of my hand, but I let him slip through my fingers. I didn’t even have to do anything to lose him because that’s just it, I didn’t do anything. I stupidly failed to close my hand to keep him from blowing away. That is the saddest part of it all. I let him go before I even let him in. I have to live with that regret and it pesters me nearly every damn day. The more I try to cover up the pain, the worse it feels and the memories burn brighter the harder I try to forget them. What was wrong with me? Why did he tease me like he did? If he wanted to go out with me, then why didn’t we? Why did he have to touch me every time he saw me if I repulsed him so much? I had so many questions that still remain unanswered.
In hindsight, I was so stupid and I should’ve done things differently, but all the could haves and should haves can’t go back and change how he did nothing. How I did nothing. He’s my what could’ve been. But it’s more like he’s my what never will be.
I feel like I’m forever running from my memories and regrets, only to have them find me wherever I go, showing their ugly faces, and loudly taunting me. I need some kind of change. I just wanted to make peace with my past and live in the present without fearing an empty future. I was using this summer to help my mom, keeping my mind off my failed marriage, and to hopelessly ease my guilt of taking her mother forever.
Until Jared showed up.
At my mom’s construction, I had overheard Adam mentioning to Jared about going to the races. I wanted to go because even though he’s hurt me once again, I can’t stay away from him. I’ve always been undeniably drawn to him. He’s not wearing a wedding ring, but since he’s an engineer and is doing construction for my mother, it’s only logical that he wouldn’t be wearing one. I found out for sure from my mom that he isn’t married, which is a relief. I just don’t know if he’s dating anyone.
When I got to Spa Creek Bridge, I didn’t see him or his dad. However, I did see an old friend of mine: Dash Calder. We met at Bowie State University in an early elementary education class we had together. From there, we found out we had gone to the same high school together. He was just a year ahead of me. With Jared. I didn’t ask Dash if he knew Jared because I thought it really didn’t matter anyway. Jared was gone. Why tortu
re myself with stories about him living his life and having a great time doing it?
Dash and I became well acquainted due to taking the same classes. We even partnered up often for class projects. Dash isn’t just a baby face. He’s such a sweet person, very friendly to everybody, willing to help anyone, and he always had admirers around him. We’ve stayed in touch by email and I’ve seen him around Annapolis a few times over the years through our schools’ interactions.
Standing here now, looking up at Jared almost 12 years later, is something I never thought would happen. Aside from this past week, I feel like we’re just seeing each other for the first time since that day he left me without saying goodbye.
“Jericho, this is Kat Merrick.” Jericho?
I wait for Jared to say something, but his jaw appears to be unhinged and nearly hitting the bridge.
With a broad smile for me, Dash says, “Kat, this is my best friend Jared Beckett.” Best friend? For how long? Since high school? It figures that Dash Calder’s best friend is Jared Beckett. What a small, damn world.
“We know each other.” My smile grows as I witness Jared’s unanticipated and swift unraveling.
Jared’s greenish-hazel eyes blaze from me to Dash. As he glares at Dash, his mouth closes with a loud snap to his teeth. Is he mad at me for reappearing in his life? Is he angry at Dash for knowing me?
Most likely, he’s pissed about the salt I dumped into his coffee.
Juvenile, but it made me feel better.
For a minute.
When Jared looks back to me, his eyes fly over me with recognition anew. I haven’t changed that much. Slightly different nose, contacts, some purple in my hair, and boobs.
Oh, and telling him my married name. Yeah, I did that, too.
The Keys to Jericho Page 8