Surrendered

by Monica James

  His whole stature is that of a man deep in thought. A broken man.

  I wish I could sneak back inside so he’s able to enjoy his stillness, but I know he’s aware of me watching him.

  “Come sit with me,” he says, flicking his cigarette into the driveway, brushing the remaining smoke away with his hands.

  Taking a seat near him on the top step, I lean my head onto his bare shoulder, which is freezing.

  “You’re going to catch pneumonia sitting out here in the cold,” I say, rubbing his back quickly, attempting to generate heat and warm his chilly skin.

  He shrugs but doesn’t reply.

  I don’t know what to say to him, as I know the fight with his mom is preying on his mind. And I feel like I should say something to him. Anything.

  “Come to bed. I can’t sleep without you.” Okay, lame, but true.

  Jasper turns to me, the streetlight bouncing off the bottomless blue of his eyes.

  “You go. I might stay out here. Watch the sun come up.” He returns to peering out into the night sky.

  I really don’t want to leave him out here alone, especially half-dressed, but I’m exhausted. I try and stifle a yawn, but fail.

  “Go to bed, baby. I’m really no company at the moment,” he says in a low whisper.

  Standing up after a few minutes of silence, I stretch my arms over my head, letting out yet another noisy yawn.

  The sound snaps Jasper out of his thoughts, and he looks up at me, surprised that I have moved. His usual bright, lively eyes now resemble that of a lost, innocent boy and my heart breaks. I go inside without a word, only to return a minute later with a big woolen throw, which I wrap around his hunched shoulders. No way am I leaving him outside to brood, especially when he’s barely clothed.

  He looks up at me, surprised that I returned, but gives me small appreciative smile as he nestles under the blanket.

  “I can’t sit out here and freeze to death while watching the sunrise,” I joke while snuggling into him, reaching for the blanket to wrap around myself.

  Jasper huddles close to me and pulls me into his side, shielding me against the cool night breeze. After a while, the warmth of his body and the steady shifting of his chest, rising and falling on inhalations and exhalations, lull me into a comfortable state.

  I’m half awake, half asleep; my body sheltered into his when I hear him say, barely above a whisper, “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

  I don’t know if I’m dreaming or awake.

  Either way, it sends a shiver down my spine, thinking of what’s to come.

  The next few days are painful, to say the least. Jasper’s mom has called at least one hundred times.

  An hour.

  It’s getting beyond ridiculous. And so is Jasper’s foul mood.

  Since the argument with his mom, he has been distant and often, very short tempered, which he’s never been before.

  I’m hoping his mood might improve, as P.O.E is playing a sold out show at Little Sisters tonight.

  I know he’s looking forward to the gig in Seattle, which is coming up really soon, so hopefully, being busy with P.O.E will keep his mind off his mom. But that’s hard when she won’t let up with the stalking.

  “Ava, do you have any peanut butter?” I hear V yell from downstairs.

  I give my reflection one last look in the mirror and mull over whether I should put my hair up. I twirl it up at the base of my neck and scrunch up my face, unhappy with how I look. Thanks to Jasper’s moodiness, my frame of mind has also been shot, and I have been feeling unsettled and restless, which I don’t like.

  “Ava!” V shouts when I don’t reply.

  Groaning, I quickly grab a hair tie off my dresser, pulling up my hair messily, as I can’t tolerate it being loose tonight. I grab my coat and quickly descend the stairs, in fear of V gnawing her arm off. As I round the corner, I see that her head is planted in my pantry, searching for God knows what.

  “Ah ha! I found you,” she mutters while reaching for the peanut butter and a loaf of white bread.

  She tosses everything onto the counter as she turns to face me.

  “You want one?” she asks, eagerly unscrewing the peanut butter lid.

  Shaking my head, I take a seat at the kitchen table. “No, I just ate dinner.”

  V shrugs while opening the drawer, which rattles as she hunts for a knife. She searches through the cutlery, pulling out a huge butcher’s knife when she’s too impatient to look for a butter knife.

  “You look nice,” I say, totally loving her pretty black pinafore dress, with knee high white socks and mary-janes.

  I laugh as she dips the inappropriate knife into the jar, and scoops out a huge clump of peanut butter.

  “Gah, I feel fat. This is the only thing that doesn’t make me feel like a heffa,” she replies, not breaking concentration from spreading the peanut butter evenly onto her slice of bread.

  “Well, maybe you should quit it with the carb overload then,” I reply, giggling when she stacks up two sandwiches onto her plate.

  She shrugs. “Whatever, I’m married. Isn’t it socially acceptable to let yourself go after you say I Do?”

  Shaking my head at her and laughing, the momentum loosens my messy bun, and tendrils of hair stick to my lip-gloss, which frustrates me. I regret not spending more time on my hair.

  Here’s hoping my mood improves, because the way I’m feeling at the moment, I’m ready to wage war with anyone who looks at me the wrong way.

  “You’re the one who’s looking hot,” she mutters around a mouthful of food.

  I’m glad she thinks so, as I’m feeling anything but in my cute royal blue ruffled dress. I wore this dress because I usually feel like I want to frolic in fields of daisies, swishing my pleats in the wind. Sadly, today isn’t one of those days.

  “Thanks,” I reply, half-heartedly.

  V is well aware of my grumpiness, but has chosen to ignore it, as no matter what she says, my funk just won’t dissipate.

  “Pregnancy agrees with you.”

  I chuckle, grateful she has left my mood alone.

  “Thanks. Married life agrees with you.” I smirk as she spoons out a blob of peanut butter with her pointer finger.

  V shrugs my comment off as she licks her finger clean. “Married life is going to turn me into Shamu, but whatev’s. It’s too late for Lucas now. He’s already promised to love me for better or worse, in skinniness or heaviness.”

  “I think you mean in sickness or health,” I correct while laughing.

  V blows a raspberry at me.

  “Same thing.”

  “Do I need to call A.A.?” I ask V, who is downing her third tequila shot.

  She makes a pained face as she sucks on the lemon. “Nope, all good.”

  We’re sitting at the bar with our backs pressed against the counter, waiting for P.O.E to commence their set. I’m so grateful we got these seats, as the place is packed.

  I always get a bundle of nerves in the pit of my stomach when I watch Jasper perform. I don’t know if I’m nervous or excited, but I do know if I were him, I would be shitting bricks backstage. My little stint the other night at karaoke gave me a small taste of what Jasper experiences every time he gets up in front of a crowd. He does it with such poise and confidence, and makes it look so easy. Just looking up at the stage and the microphone is giving me stage fright. This just confirms what I already know—Jasper was born to perform.

  The lights dim and my stage fright turns into undeniable lust, as I know Jasper is about to rock the socks off of everyone.

  Lucas strolls out to a massive round of applause and a piercing wolf whistle from V. She elbows me in the ribs while bouncing in her seat.

  “That’s my husband, just in case you were wondering.”

  I can’t help but smile, because I adore how head over heels in love she is with him.

  The other two boys walk out, giving the crowd small waves as they adjust their guitar straps. They then
begin their usual intro, a tease for the audience, giving them a taste of what they’re in for. They are amazing, and I never tire of seeing them look like total Rock Gods up on stage.

  Scooting forward on my stool, I await the arrival of Jasper, and I don’t have to wait too long. The music stops, and after a few seconds, Lucas counts in, tapping his drumsticks, and out saunters Jasper.

  The crowd goes wild, and the applause is deafening. People around me begin bopping to the music and clapping, and my heart swells. I’m so proud of him because he deserves this. He gives the crowd a small smile, but that smile is quickly replaced with a frown.

  He usually works the crowd into a frenzy, saying a few words, but tonight—nothing. He skips the long intro and heads straight into the verse.

  V looks at me with big eyes and I just shrug. I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve never seen him so disinterested before.

  The first song ends and I hold my breath, hoping that maybe he’ll get a little more enthused, but I know better.

  The whole set is painful to watch. Jasper doesn’t interact with the crowd, and barely makes any eye contact with his band members. He misses cues and hits a few off notes, which has NEVER happened before.

  At first the crowd believes the performance will get better, but sadly, it only gets worse. One by one, the sea of people begin to dissolve, preferring to play pool than watch the disaster occurring up on stage. I can hear patrons mumble amongst themselves that they are far from impressed with tonight’s performance, and some have even requested a refund.

  I want to tell them to shove it, but they’re right. Still, I sit tall and watch my boyfriend proudly, because no matter what, he’ll always be a star in my eyes.

  Forty-five minutes later, they finish their set and Jasper walks off without a goodbye. The boys try and cover with a longer outro, but it’s obvious he’s not coming back. With no other choice, they finish off and are applauded lackadaisically.

  I can tell Lucas is far from impressed, and he has every right, but I can’t help but defend Jasper when V demands, “What the fuck?”

  “It’s because of his mom. I didn’t realize how badly this has affected him,” I admit shamefully.

  V jumps up, slipping on her cardigan angrily. “Well, that’s no excuse to ruin it for the rest of the boys.”

  “I know, V,” I mumble.

  She doesn’t give me a chance to add anything further. “I’m going to find Lucas.” She walks off in a huff.

  What the hell was that? That uninspiring performance will have Jasper kicking himself. With Rip It Up just around the corner, tonight was their chance to really promote the hell out of it. But, they most certainly didn’t do that. If anything, Jasper may have lost a few loyal fans, and that thought angers the crap out of me. Like I needed another reason to hate his mom with a passion!

  Jasper needs to address this situation with his mom one way or the other, because ignoring her is obviously not working.

  “Hey, beautiful, can I buy you a drink?”

  Deep in thought, I fail to notice a patron standing way too close for comfort. He’s a preppy looking guy, with way too much hair product in his blond, curly hair.

  I pull away, leaning sideways.

  “No, I’m good,” I reply, giving him a dismissive smile, hoping he gets the hint. Sadly, he doesn’t.

  “Aw, c’mon, one drink won’t hurt,” he slurs, leaning into my face. His cheap aftershave, applied with a heavy hand, assaults my nostrils so I try to shuffle further away.

  His brown beady eyes fall to my cleavage. I cross my arms over my chest, clearing my throat.

  He flicks his eyes to meet mine and sneers, “What, you think you’re too good to have a drink with me?” He’s creeping closer, and because I’m sitting on a backless chair, I can’t lean back any further without falling off.

  “No, of course not, but I’m waiting for my boyfriend,” I reply quickly, not liking the sleazy look in his eyes.

  “I don’t see a boyfriend,” he taunts and turns to his friend, who has randomly appeared.

  Great, now I have to deal with two preppies!

  I’m about to excuse myself when I feel someone come up behind me, wrapping his warm, familiar hand around my waist.

  “You heard her. She said no.”

  Jasper.

  I sigh into his grip, blessing his impeccable timing.

  Preppy number one turns to look at his friend, and lets out a loud, inappropriate laugh.

  “This wannabe rock star is your boyfriend? How tragic for you. You’re all class, baby, and your boyfriend is just that, a boy. He can’t support you and look after you the way you deserve to be looked after.” He lets out yet another loud laugh while high fiving his friend.

  He edges closer to me, while I lean further back into the shelter of Jasper’s chest. “Well, today is your lucky day. I’ll show you what a real man looks like,” he says, leaning into my face. “And if you’re real lucky, I’ll show you how a real man fucks.”

  I’m about to smack him in his crude mouth, but in a lightning fast move, my barstool spins quickly, and I’m repositioned, facing the other direction.

  I leap off the stool, as there’s no mistaking the sound of someone’s face getting punched, and hard.

  I witness Jasper launch onto the jerk, them both tumbling to the ground. Jasper’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw and eye in quick succession. He’s about to go for the trifecta, when thankfully security arrive, pulling Jasper off.

  The fight lasts no longer than five seconds, but it’s enough.

  “Let me go! I’m going to kill that fucker!” Jasper says squirming, trying to break free from Paul’s death grip. Paul is the head of security, and also Jasper’s friend.

  “No, man. Just walk it off,” Paul replies, trying to contain a struggling Jasper.

  Jasper responds to Paul’s suggestion of walking it off by lunging forward, eager to finish what he started.

  “Jasper, enough!” Paul says firmly, escorting him towards the door when it’s apparent he won’t calm down.

  I follow quickly, and as soon as we’re outside, the cool air seems to snap Jasper out of his rampage.

  He paces angrily with his hands by his sides, blowing out big breaths, which flick his messy hair out of his eyes.

  I watch with my mouth agape. I’m shocked how livid he is. Yes, the guy was a rude jerk, but Jasper flew off the handle in naught to one hundred in point two seconds. His short fuse tonight scared me.

  Thankfully, after a few minutes, Jasper seems to calm down.

  “Sorry, man,” Jasper says, turning to face Paul.

  However, he still looks enraged as he’s working his jaw heatedly, and his nostrils are still slightly flared.

  “It’s fine, J. Just do me a favor and go home, okay? The boys can finish packing up,” Paul replies, his huge biceps twitching when he crosses his arms over his massive chest.

  Jasper nods, his jaw clenching as he looks through the open door.

  Paul looks at me and I nod, silently confirming I will take Jasper home.

  Satisfied there will be no more trouble, Paul goes inside, leaving me alone with Jasper.

  The whole time Jasper has been out here, he won’t meet my eyes, which troubles me. I hate this distance between us.

  “Jasper…” I attempt to talk to him, but he begins walking down the street, without hearing a single word.

  I’m shocked he would turn his back on me, when we clearly need to discuss what just happened, but judging by his huge strides, talking is the last thing on his mind.

  “Jasper, wait!” I cry, chasing after him.

  Thankfully he slows down and I can catch up to him, slightly out of breath. “What was that back there?” I ask, hooking my thumb behind me.

  Jasper runs his hands through his hair angrily, leaving them interlaced on the top of his head. After a few deep breaths, he finally speaks to me.

  “You expect me to stand back while that asshole talks dirty to
you?” he shouts, glaring at me.

  I don’t understand why he’s mad at me. What have I done?

  “Jasper, calm down,” I plead. “What’s the matter with you?”

  Jasper snickers. “What’s the matter with me? What’s the matter with you? Why didn’t you say anything to that motherfucker?”

  I gasp. Is he accusing me of encouraging the guy’s crude behavior?

  “Are you serious? You didn’t give me a chance!” I yell back.

  I cross my arms over my chest, and when Jasper sees my defensive stance, he calms down. “I’m sorry, Ava.”

  He places his palm on my hand, attempting to uncross my arms, but I’m still mad at him, so I leave them crossed.

  “I’m sorry, okay?” he says again, dipping his head to meet my downcast eyes.

  My eyes flick to his, and I can see he means what he says.

  “Fine,” I mumble, dropping my arms by my side.

  We’re both silent, not knowing what to say to one another, which scares me. So I say the only thing I can, because there’s no sugarcoating this situation.

  “Has this got something to do with your mom?”

  As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.

  He closes his eyes and shakes his head, but I know he’s lying to me, and I don’t like it.

  “Jasper, please, talk to me,” I beg, stepping towards him.

  Jasper opens his eyes when he hears the desperation in my voice. We stare at one another, my eyes beseeching him to tell me what the hell is going on.

  He clears his throat before he speaks. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m such a hothead when it comes to you. I just… this thing with my mom… is screwing with me. I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again. Let’s just go home, okay?”

  He pulls me into his arms and tucks my head under his chin.

  “No, it’s not okay,” I reply, shrugging out of his warm embrace, not wanting the comfort of his arms to distract me.

  Jasper blows out an annoyed breath, and rubs his brow. “Ava, what? What do you want from me? I said I’m sorry. I know I overreacted, can’t you just drop it?”