by Ashley King
Tears begin to well up in my eyes, but it's okay. I came here for closure, closure for both Jamie and me. I will never forget him, nor would I ever want to. The memories of us sneaking in after curfew, him crashing at my house, our late night drives for fast food, walking through the halls of our school, never walking through life alone. Jamie is one of the best things to ever happen to me and he taught me so much. He taught me to love, to be me, to appreciate life and to live it fully. He taught me how to be a friend and he taught me how to stand up for myself. The tattoo almost winks at me, my constant reminder of Jamie, as I settle the Ipod at the head of the grave, along with the speaker.
I draw a picture frame from the bag, the one I brought just for Jamie to keep. Inside is a copy of the picture of us from our last Halloween together. I carefully place it on the bottom of his headstone.
"Jamie," I begin, my voice cracking. The tears slide down my cheeks as I unwrap his letter to me, the letter I finally re-read after a year--an entire year of guilt and heartbreak. "Thank you for those beautiful words. Thank for being the best friend anyone could ever ask for. You were always so bright, like this wonderful light shining in the dark. You gave me so much in our short time together, so much that I never thanked you for. Thank you for loving me, for believing that I matter, for always making sure I knew how much, even in death," I say as I hold his letter up to the sky. Chills descend upon my arms as the wind stirs, my hair whipping wildly. "I'm not mad at you anymore. God, I was so mad at you--mad at you for leaving and for leaving me behind. Every day without you has been torture, but I think I'm finally understanding how to live with it. It'll never go away, the pain of losing you, but it can be made better by remembering you as you were in life, remembering our times together." I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to say. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry for not seeing that you were unhappy, that you were actually sick, for not going after you that night. I finally understand it's not my fault, no matter what anyone says, but I'm still so sorry," my voice is choked sobs, I'm trying to control it, because I have so much left to say. Finally I wipe my eyes on my cardigan and continue. "But I love you, you crazy wonderful boy. I love you more than you ever knew, will ever know. And now, because I couldn't do it at your funeral, I've got something for you."
I bend over and play Jimmy Eat World's "Hear You Me" as loud as it'll go. The tears don't stop, they keep falling and falling, but it’s cleansing and I realize I never properly grieved Jamie. I hid behind guilt and fear, not standing in love and memories.
I stand up, grabbing handfuls of leaves and I sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs--every word striking my heart, a balm to the hurt and pain.
As the chorus comes on, I throw the leaves into the air, watching as they fall and rain onto Jamie. Some fly upon the wind and I smile. I spin around and dance and pretend that Jamie is here with me. I wonder what he thinks, if he misses me at all, if he knows I'll never forget him? I spin faster, the words louder and louder, my heart slowly pulling itself back together one piece at a time.
When the song ends, I collapse next to Jamie's tombstone, my voice barely a whisper, "May angels lead you in, Jamie."
RYDER
The lights are low and I'm up next. I'm not as nervous as I thought I would be, although I hate the idea of my Dad being in the crowd. He's been spending even more time with me since Claire told Mrs. Weathersby about my cutting. That led to the counselor talking with me and then my father and then a therapist. I had to lie to all of them, tell them that it was just for kicks. I didn't tell them that I do it to keep myself from actually doing the real thing. That it calms me somehow.
I wonder if Claire will show up. I wish I could've kissed her one last time. I flick the lucky pick between my fingers and think about the way she carried this around in her pocket, how we were supposed to trade it off. She can have it forever after tonight. I double check my guitar case for the rope and find it hidden carefully beneath a black tee shirt. It's not the fastest, but it's the best for me. My original plan was to OD, but I can't do that because I don’t want anything linking me to my piece of crap mom.
The band finishes, they get cheers and I hear my name called over the microphone. This is it. My dream come to life. My last dream ever, even though one last kiss with Claire would be better.
CLAIRE
I make it inside the packed club just in time to hear Ryder's name announced on the microphone. My heart twists up inside when I see him take the stage. He's so handsome and it's not just that that stuns me. It's that even though he tries his absolute hardest to push people away, to push me away, he's still good at heart. He never pushed me or pressured me into anything I didn't want, he spent Jamie's birthday with me, he made me understand and realize that I needed to grieve Jamie, not to let him go, but to rejoin the land of the living. Ryder gave me the strength to re-read Jamie's last words to me. To actually read them and take them to heart. I just hope it isn't too late for us, that he'll give me another chance.
Of course I hope Ryder doesn't hate me for telling Mrs. Weathersby about his cuts. He never told me why he did it and I should've pushed, but he left, just like Jamie. I was determined to pay closer attention, to not let him slip away, so I did the only thing I knew to do. But I hope most of all, Ryder understands that I did it because I love him.
I realized that I fell for him a long time ago, and perhaps I thought I loved him then, but I didn’t truly love him until tonight. What works its way through my veins, my soul, what makes my heart beat is unselfish love for that boy. Love cannot be selfish and before I was so selfish, living in my grief for Jamie. I move closer, praying Ryder will see me. Praying that he still loves me.
RYDER
Cheers greet me and I feel a rush of adrenaline. This is better than I imagined as I look out across the packed house. And Claire did this for me. I move towards the mic and search for her face in the crowd. I'm opening with the first song I wrote her.
"Thanks for having me. Enjoy," I say simply and am again greeted with cheers, whistles, and a few catcalls. It's enough to make me smile as I strum my guitar and sing those lyrics that come straight from the heart. No song has ever been as easy as this one; no one's ever made me feel this way to begin with. Claire came into my life completely unexpected and I wasn't even strong enough to stay away. I was selfish with her.
Looking up from the guitar, I look across the crowd, suddenly desperate just for one glimpse of her black hair, those sad green eyes that light up when she looks at me. I know I screwed up with her, I could see it in her face when she saw the scars, but I need her to know that I never meant to hurt her, that I love her more than anything. Finally I find her, frozen and mesmerized, and our gazes collide. Claire looks different, better, happier, even though her eyes are red from crying and I wonder what happened. I trip over the lyrics, but quickly recover. She gives me a small smile and I give her one back. My heart comes alive, everything comes alive and I wonder what I'm doing.
CLAIRE
Is it even possible to feel this much for one person? Ryder's singing the song he wrote for me, and he finally finds me in the crowd. This all feels so intimate, his words caressing my skin, his music kissing my ears. His eyes don't leave mine as he sings to me and only me and I can't help but smile. I feel those butterflies kicking around and I want to rush to him, throw my arms around his neck and kiss him senseless, whatever it takes to let him know that I was stupid to run away, to be so afraid. If anything, finding out about his cutting should've driven me closer, but fear, as always ruined my life. I refuse to let it reign over me anymore. I feel free, I feel amazing and I want to share this with Ryder.
I'm a long way from being perfect when it comes to Jamie, and he will always hold a special spot in my soul, but I've never felt more right, more alive than standing here crushed among all these sweaty bodies, people elbowing my ribs, and listening to Ryder sing. I try to edge my way closer to the stage, my eyes never leaving his, not caring about anythin
g but him. He's all I see.
RYDER
She's moving closer and I can feel every part of me respond to her. Claire stops right in front of the stage and crosses her arms, a small smile dancing across those beautiful features. I've never seen that look in her eyes before and I wish I could stay around long enough to find out what it means. But if I do, I'll back out, and I don't want to. Do I? This has been my plan since freshman year and I can't just back out now. It's taken me this long to work up the nerve, to plan it, to play a show, but it's also taken me this long to stop being an idiot and fall in love with the perfect girl standing in front of me.
After her song, I sing the last song I'll ever write. It's another one for Claire, my goodbye letter to her. I try to look at her while I sing it, but it's too hard. The emotion can be heard thick in my throat as I sing the dark lyrics.
The days are getting longer
And I'm not getting stronger
Through endless nights I wander
A nomad with no place to call home
You, you my pretty girl, are the place I run, the one I love
You have given this dark soul life amidst the pain and strife
I'm looking at Claire and she looks introspective and worried. She knows. I can tell she knows.
It's not your fault
It's not your fault
Please know it was never your fault.
CLAIRE
I'm frantically trying to find the steps to get backstage. Everything finally clicks together as I hear the song and I know better than most what those dark words mean. They're a goodbye letter, a suicide note woven, hidden beneath the music. And it was penned to me. I'm not going to let this happen to me again. Ryder's still singing, finishing the last verse as I fight my way through the crowd, getting cussed out a few times, but not even caring enough to stop. My legs are wobbly as I make it to the stage steps, no security there, because these guys aren't famous. I slide past and see Ryder's guitar case; I'd know it anywhere with all those band stickers plastered haphazardly everywhere. My heart sinks because once again, I'm not good enough, but then I stop my mind from going there. That's not true at all. This has nothing to do with me, just like what happened with Jamie had nothing to do with me. This has to do with the decision someone else made and I refuse to let Lindy screw up my life, my thinking just because she's jealous. The song ends and I do all I can. I wait, even though I question my strength, because I feel like I’m about to pass out.
RYDER
The crowd claps and cheers for me, and I wave and walk off the stage as quickly as I can. I lost Claire in the audience, but I have a good idea where she is. As soon as I clear the second curtain, I see her in all of her perfect and pissed off glory. She's shaking and I want nothing more than to hold her in my arms, to tell her that I want to be with her forever. I walk past her, my hands trembling as I put my guitar in the case and my fingers brush the rope. Doubts seep into my mind, resolve to die replaced with resolve to live. Not just for Claire, but for myself.
"Ryder," Claire speaks. I snap the case shut and turn to look at her.
"Yeah?" I ask, my voice betraying how eager I am to be near her.
She takes a step closer, her arms still crossed over her chest, her eyes burning holes into mine. "Ryder…I…I figured some stuff out today," she starts. Like a magnet, I move closer to her, everything else disappearing, nothing else as important as this girl in front of me.
"Like what?" I ask as soon as we're almost toe-to-toe. I could bend my head just a little and kiss her forehead.
"Stuff you told me to figure out a long time ago, stuff about Jamie…" she pauses, looks suddenly nervous, but continues, "stuff about you."
I say nothing. I'm paralyzed by her stare.
"I love you, Ryder. I loved you before, but not like this. Before I was selfish, before I was…distracted, but it's always been you. Ever since that day you snapped at me for staring at you in Weathersby's class," she smiles and my God it lights up everything, even the smallest caves of darkness in my soul. That smile nearly kills me.
A smile, completely involuntary, comes across my face, "You do?"
Claire nods and tears fill her eyes. "I love you more than anything, Ryder. So will you stay? Stay with me?"
CLAIRE
I'm putting it all on the line, everything that I have, every part of me. I'll never let him do this to himself, but I need to hear him tell me those words. He's staring at me and I can see the struggle in his eyes. He rubs his face, looks away and looks back at me, tears clouding his gaze.
"I want to, Claire, but…" He stops and just shakes his head, runs his hands through his already messy hair.
I step forward and put my arms around him, his body fitting perfectly to mine. "If you want to stay, then do it. There's no way I'm letting you leave me, whether you like it or not," I finally say, because it’s the truth and he needs to decide now if he'll hate me or love me, but at least either way he’ll be alive.
He pulls away from me and stares, his eyes wide. I am at peace with his choice of hate or love for me. I don't even care, as long as he's here on this Earth. As long as I can look up at the night sky and know that somewhere, somehow, Ryder Andrews is looking up at the same sky too. That’s what matters most to me.
RYDER
Everything falls away with her touch. Everything I've been carrying around with me, every last bit of it. This is what I want. I want to live and I want to go through everything, the good and bad, with Claire at my side. It all fell into place, each piece, like the most screwed up puzzle. I get it now. Life's a gift. Each small moment is a gift. Claire's the best gift, the gift that tops every single Christmas present I ever got as a kid. I think deep down I knew I couldn't leave her, couldn't leave this life in general. I want more nights playing on stage, I want more days with Claire curled under my arm, and I want more, I want everything with Claire.
She's looking at me, scared out of her mind, but determination burning in those pretty eyes of hers.
"Claire, all I want to do is stay with you," I whisper. And then she lets out a stifled sob and jumps in my arms, legs around my waist, clinging to me like I'm her lifeline and the irony isn't missed, although it's not thought about for long as my lips find hers in the darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CLAIRE
Ryder sings my song, the one he named "Claire's Song." I can practically hear the girls swooning at his voice, his lyrics, everything about him. We're at Punch Bunny's for a Christmas Eve show. They heard about how great Ryder was at Midtown's and wanted to book him. Yep, my boyfriend's a rock star.
Backstage isn't as good as watching him perform out in a packed crowd, but Ryder asked me to be back here for this particular show. I look at his guitar case, the one covered in stickers of all the different bands he likes, most of which we have in common. I see the addition of a new sticker, one that makes every girly part of me leap for joy. There's a sticker with a heart and inside he wrote in permanent marker, "C+R." My fingers trace the outline of it and a smile forms on my lips.
I roll up my cardigan sleeve and look at Jamie's initials and that smile deepens. I smile more often now when I think of Jamie. My therapist says I'm finally grieving like I'm supposed to, finally facing it. I can tell because I feel differently about everything. I feel like my love for Ryder is different, better. Stuff Lindy says rolls off my back because I realize that this is the best she'll ever be. And that's pathetic.
Ryder is now doing a cover of Ryan Adams' "So Alive" and it gives me chills. This song could be on the soundtrack for my newfound happiness. My life's a movie and I make my own soundtrack. I smile to myself as I hear Ryder's voice, velvety and perfect weave its way into my heart.
Things are better with his Dad, too. They seem to be working on patching things up and neither wants anything to do with his crazy mom. We've both applied to colleges, the same ones, of course. Ryder and I have been through a lot in a short span of months, but before he came along, i
t felt like that piece of the puzzle was missing, the one that always drives you insane, because you need it to complete the puzzle. Now that I've got it, the puzzle is complete and everything feels right. I know I'm just a high schooler and I don't know what the future will hold, but I know that I'd like to see where it goes with Ryder.
Ryder finishes singing and the crowd cheers so loud, it almost hurts my ears. I can't help but smile and be all cocky, thinking, "Yeah, that's my man." Because he is. He's doing much better with everything. He still wears his leather cuffs, but I know what's beneath them, now. He's been going to therapy for it and it seems to be working. He doesn't cut anymore and he said something about that night, that first night he ever played a show, seeing me out there in the audience, broke every single resolve he ever had to kill himself. Of course I worry that he'll get that feeling again, but the therapist says it's mild depression and it can be treated.
Depression is a real thing and can really screw up someone's mind, their life, make them do things that they wouldn't normally do. Apparently, Ryder has been suffering since his Dad left town four years ago. It won't get better over night, but it's something he's working on, something we're working on. My mind wanders to Jamie and I wonder if he was depressed. I almost go down that old road, that familiar road of self-loathing, of what I could have done to prevent it, but I stop. I shake my head. There was nothing that I could've done. It was what Jamie wanted.