by Kiara London
His jaw is clenching and he stops looking at me when I mention the vlog. I’m getting desperate. I need him to understand. “You promised, Jas,” I say tensely. “You promised not to do this to us. You said there was nothing, and there was something.”
“I thought—”
I press my lips together and shake my head.
He slaps his hands against his knees and makes a strangled noise that sounds a little like he’s letting out a deep breath and a little like a laugh. Then he leans backward against the couch cushions and buries his face in his hands.
“Jas,” I say hurriedly, “I don’t want this to change things. I just want to be like we were.”
There’s a moment of silence between us where the only thing I hear is my heartbeat and the fuzzy noise of the host’s voice on the television.
“Me too,” he says after what feels like forever. “But I’m going to need a little time.”
He walks me to the door a little while later when the tense atmosphere turns awkward and neither of us wants to look at each other. Before I step outside, I turn around to look at him for probably the last time for a while. He smiles at me, but it’s not the Jasper smile I’m used to. He’s broken and I’m the reason.
He said he wants space, to keep some distance between us while he sorts himself out. After that, he told me we could be like we were before Kiss Cam. It’s a silver lining, I suppose. Until then, I guess we’re just going to have to respect new boundaries—boundaries we’ve never had before.
“I didn’t want this to happen,” I say outside his doorstep, hugging myself against the wind.
“It doesn’t have to,” he says almost hopefully. But that hopefulness fades when I look at my feet and swallow guiltily. I can’t leave him like this, so I start reaching for straws.
Before he closes the door, I step forward and say, “I love you, you know.”
“Yeah,” he says, and sweeps the door past him until it’s almost closed, “but not the way I love you.”
After that, I walk back home and lie on the couch and spend my first day of the New Year alone.
AFTER SPENDING NEW Year’s alone, I didn’t expect to see anyone for the rest of break. Then midafternoon rolls around the following day and someone is banging on my front door, forcing me to sprint from my bedroom to the entrance before the noise wakes up my dad. A part of me pulls open the door to stop the ruckus from continuing; the other part is hoping to see Jasper standing there.
When I open the door, my stomach sinks even though I knew I was getting my hopes up by expecting Jasper. I’m surprised, though, to find Lenny on my front steps, hands now shoved into his pockets and blond hair ruffled by chilly gusts of wind.
“Hi,” he says after a moment of silent consideration.
“Hi,” I say back, still wary as to why he’s on my welcome mat. It’s not that it’s unusual for Lenny and me to hang out alone, but it’s not an everyday thing, either. And, well, I’m certain Jasper would have gone to Lenny after what happened on New Year’s Eve.
“I was just with Jasper,” he says slowly, eyes steady on my face. I swallow hard and nod, my eyes dropping to look somewhere besides his.
So he did see Jasper. They probably talked about me—about that night—and now Lenny is here to make me feel terrible all over again. I spent New Year’s alone thinking about how simply I had rejected Jasper, how accepting he was of it, and how empty I feel—empty because I have this awful feeling that we’ll never be the same again. Empty because it feels like I’ve lost my best friend, even though he insists after some time he’ll be fine. But I know better. His confession, the way he kissed me, how he couldn’t even look at me when he pointed out how different our loves are for each other. When his feelings for me fade, he’ll be left with a skeleton of our relationship. When we attempt to fill it back out, he won’t see what he saw before. I’m afraid he won’t want me. That he’ll have learned to live without me. He’ll only remember the pain I caused him and he won’t want to risk it again. That’s Jasper. He did it with his dad and he’ll do it to me, too.
“Can I come in?”
I’m surprised by the request, which sounds cordial, and lift my head to scan his face and see if I heard him right. I was under the impression that Lenny would be angry with me after hearing Jasper’s side of the story.
“Please?” His voice is sincere, and when I meet his eyes, they’re soft. I know he’s not here to tell me off.
I let him in and lead him into the living room. Our Christmas decorations are still up, and I see his eyes roam around the room, taking in all the lights and bows. I’m glad I decided to get properly dressed this morning.
He sits down in the same spot my dad spent all of winter break, but he balances on the edge of the cushion like he’s hesitant to make himself too comfortable. I sit down next to him in the same fashion.
“Is he okay?” I ask in a small voice, ashamed to have to ask this about my best friend. I never wanted to hurt him. I didn’t realize his feelings for me were so great.
“He’s . . .” Lenny stops and shrugs. “He’s confused.”
“Oh no,” I mutter, and bury my face in my hands, anchoring my elbows on my knees.
“He thought he read the signs right. . . .”
“I thought we were just joking around, you know?” I interject. “He made me think we were just messing around, and he lied. He lied, and now I don’t know if we’re going to be okay.” I drag my hands down my face, cheeks burning with frustration.
If he would have just talked to me about it. If he hadn’t been so rash, maybe, just maybe we could have figured this out. We wouldn’t be in this mess. But no, Jasper doesn’t think like that. He schemes and he’s unrealistic. Maybe he thought Kiss Cam would spur something inside of me. He was wrong. His idea to bring us closer only tore us apart. I hate to be angry at him when we’re both hurting, but I can’t ignore that we’re in this mess because he lied.
“He’s not mad,” Lenny says gently, and places a cautious hand on my back. “He doesn’t hate you. He’s in love with you—”
“Stop,” I say, eyes squeezing closed. I can’t hear that. Not Jasper.
His hand slides off my back and he’s silent for a moment. I don’t know if I’m being too sensitive or hostile, but it makes my stomach flutter uncomfortably when I hear those words. All I can remember is the look on his face before he closed the door in mine. It’s a punch to the gut. I wish I could fix it. I fix everything. But I don’t know if I can fix this. I can’t fix someone’s feelings. I can’t hear those words.
“I was rooting for you guys,” Lenny murmurs a moment later.
I sigh and my teeth grit together. “You and everyone else.” I absently trace shapes into the couch cushion and try to make sense of everything that has happened. It makes my insides crawl and my brain go fuzzy. “It just . . . It wouldn’t work.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” I ask defensively. Heat builds up under my skin, but I force myself to breathe around it, to keep my face stony. Every part of me seems to be in disagreement.
“Try to convince yourself of things that aren’t true.”
“I’m not—”
“You are,” he argues. “And you know how I can tell? You use me as an excuse. You use your friendship. But those are positive things, June. I support you guys, and strong friendships make relationships stronger, okay, that’s fact. So stop using it as an excuse because you’re scared and it’s new.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” I groan. “Allison would understand.”
“Well, I want to understand, too. My best friend is brokenhearted and I want to know why.” Lenny is hardly ever serious. He’s a giant mush-ball of giggles and jokes, and to see him so strong of will is terrifying—and it makes me realize how weak of a fight I’m presenting.
I run my hands through my hair and release a low sigh. “He’s too valuable of a friend to me,” I reiterate. “I can’t risk a messy break
up, okay? I don’t want to feel that kind of hurt.”
Lenny doesn’t say anything back, and I assume it’s because he knows that each turn is a dead end with me. I’m stubborn about this. He can’t possibly understand. I don’t want him to undermine me or convince me of things I’m not even sure are real.
But I melt. I have to know what he really thinks while he’s being completely honest with me.
“Do you think Jasper and I are going to be okay?” I ask softly.
He breathes an airy chuckle out through a smile and wraps an arm around my shoulder, drawing me close to his side. “There really isn’t a Jasper without a Juniper, is there?”
I cling to that thread of hope and nod to myself before resting my head on his shoulder.
The rest of break is quiet and lonely. I find myself spending a large amount of time locked away in my room, turning pages of magazines, answering e-mails (which ends up being somewhat difficult, since most of them concern Jasper and me and our kissing escapades), and watching some of my distant Internet friends’ vlogs on VlogIt.
It brings me back six years into the past, when being alone was my entire life. I guess I never fully realized how much Jasper changed everything by pulling me out of my hammock and daring me to eat Mentos and Coke. What if Lenny hadn’t stepped in? What if I’d walked away? What if Jasper hadn’t taken an interest in me in the first place?
I don’t like what I see. I don’t want to give him up. He changed things, he fell in love, and six years later I walked away anyway.
I guess I sound desperate, but the thing is I’ve stumbled upon our own channel while watching my friend Danna’s. Jasper’s posted a New Year’s resolution video with Lenny. My absence is practically unheard of. So this distance thing is serious. Does this mean he doesn’t want me in the vlogs until he’s sorted out?
I never watch the videos, because I hate seeing how I look and sound on tape, but there has always been a little bit of curiosity. Why do our viewers love us? What is it that brings them back, keeps them entertained?
I remember when WereVloggingHere was invited to a meet-and-greet. Our viewers told us that we are their friends, people they wish they knew, funny, interesting. I think about all the comments under our videos, informing the other viewers of a Jasiper moment, maybe even a Leniper or Jenny moment. Comments that ask us for advice. My mind wanders to the many e-mails I’ve received, flattering or otherwise. People who want to know us. They see something in the three of us: Jasper, Lenny, and me.
They see something in Jasper and me, not just our viewers, but the people in our lives, as well. I think about my relationship with Jasper, Kiss Cam, what Lenny has said, what my parents have noticed. Suddenly, I have the urge to watch the videos. I want to see what everyone else sees.
And that’s it. I scroll through our channel’s archive and watch us from the beginning.
I watch my hopeless affection for him bloom freshman year, his fingers constantly wrapped up in my curls that summer, Lenny’s sly looks at the camera when Jasper and I banter, late night giggling into the camera at his house, my absence during periods of time when he had a girlfriend. I watch previous Valentine’s Day dances, snowman building in the dead of night in three feet of snow, the belly-flop contest from last year, and our first Kiss Cam. I watch all the Kiss Cams and Kissmas, too. I even read the comments. New and old.
I watch until it’s late into the next morning and sunlight is filtering in through my curtains. Until the only thing I see when I blink are the words of our viewers.
Em_Bee: You two need to open your eyes and realize you are meant for each other. #Jasiper4Ever
leabasil: The sexual tension between Jas and June . . .
thatCRgirl: So, I just started watching WereVloggingHere. Are Jas and June together?
writingspaz: I met them at the meet-and-greet and they were so funny! P.S. Jas and June are closet lovers. ;)
ocean_: Kiss Cam confirms Jasiper is REAL.
I want us to be together so badly after watching the vlogs that I regret staying up all night to see them. I shouldn’t have watched them. I screwed up. I let him slip out of my reach.
I want us to be like what they see, what I see, in the vlogs. The little family that we are, best friends, maybe soul mates. There is something there, and I’ve been too stubborn to let myself realize it. And maybe it’s not too late.
It’s back to school again on Monday, and Jasper picks me up like he always has. Lenny is already seated comfortably in the front seat, his backpack and Jasper’s in a pile beside me. After settling in by pushing my knees against Lenny’s seat and tucking my backpack under my legs, I slam the door and let the silence settle in around us. The buzzing awkwardness is new between Jasper and me, and he immediately fills in the gaps by flicking the radio on and turning it up high enough that I can take a hint. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I avoid looking in the rearview mirror as much as possible. Lenny escapes the tension the whole ride to school by pulling his laptop out and messing with some editing software.
Jasper doesn’t wait up for either of us after we’re parked. My fingers and the tips of my ears are cold thanks to his slow-working heater, so I throw my backpack over my shoulder, push my hands into my pockets, and make a mad dash to the school entrance alone.
Lunch turns out to be worse than being trapped in a car with him for fifteen minutes. Jasper and I have always sat across from each other. So when I show up to our table and he’s sitting there, already picking at his food, I hesitate. I don’t want to change seating arrangements, but I don’t know if he would mind. School isn’t the best place to confront all the things that happened over break.
Allison brushes past me and takes her place, giving me a frown when I don’t immediately sit down beside her. I don’t want her to get involved because I know she’ll push a finger into my chest and taunt “I told you so,” so I send her a reassuring smile and sit down across from Jasper. He lifts his eyes from his tray then, and meets my gaze.
He looks unsure of himself, like he doesn’t know if looking at me is okay. I don’t want the awkwardness to ensue. I want to fix things—let him know that I was wrong before. So instead of looking away, I lock my eyes with his brown ones and smile, softly at first but then wider when his eyes smile back.
“You’re awful quiet,” Allison notes, and Jasper’s eyes leave mine to look at her instead.
She’s right. The bounciness isn’t entirely there, the camera hasn’t been out when I’ve been around, and he hasn’t said a word to me all day. I know why, though, and Allison doesn’t need to be involved. So when Jasper’s eyes flick back to mine, I shake my head subtly.
“I—uh—” He looks back to her, rubbing his fingers across his chin and then dragging his nails down the side of his neck. His eyes are searching for an excuse until finally he clears his throat. “I’m just really tired. Still getting into the swing of things.”
Lenny arrives then and immediately picks up a conversation with Jasper, their chatter helping to distract from the initial awkwardness. Allison engages me in a conversation of our own. I half listen into Jasper and Lenny’s conversation, where Jasper sounds only a fraction as excited as usual. I glance at them occasionally and notice Jasper duck his head as he listens to Lenny. Then, like he’s done a costume change behind a curtain, his head lifts up and there’s a smile stretched across his face. Soon his clear, humor-filled voice is lost among those around us.
I can’t get over it. Even in the midst of my discussion with Allison, I keep my eyes trained on Jasper, watching the laughs tumble out and his eyes gleam. I don’t get why he can’t do that with me. Why can’t he do a costume change and pretend? I made a mistake, and he’s making it hard to confront him.
Jasper realizes I’m watching him sometime later and licks his lips when he catches my eye. It’s a slow movement. His eyes drop and his lips disappear behind teeth and tongue, a nervous habit.
He’s nervous.
That’s when I understand. He t
ook off his mask on New Year’s Eve. I’ve seen the face behind it. The magic and wonder are gone. He needs a new mask. He needs a new outlet. Until then, he’s vulnerable. Until then, he can’t hide. For the first time ever, I can see right through him.
THINGS DON’T CHANGE as quickly as I’d like them to. I didn’t expect Jasper to let the tension between us continue. It’s not like him to drag things out. But every morning I get into his car and it’s the same thing. He turns the radio up loud, keeps his eyes on the road, and removes himself from conversation. During lunch he doesn’t meet my eyes unless Allison probes him. When Lenny pulls me into conversation, I can tell Jasper tries to keep the pep in his voice when we share a few words, but mostly he keeps his comments directed at Lenny. I see him across the hall at our lockers and he seems to be his normal self. However, the moment I cross into his line of sight he grows rigid. It’s discouraging, and plucking up the courage to talk to him has never been this hard.
I know he’s still vlogging. He wouldn’t stop just because of what happened between us. It’s always been his thing, anyway. But it’s upsetting to be separated from his world like this, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by our viewers. My e-mails are piling up, most of them questioning my absence. If they’re coming to me for answers, I know he hasn’t attempted to discuss or acknowledge my disappearance. He’s cut me off.
It’s a frustrating balance of avoidance and calculated attempts to be his regular animated self with me, and I never know what I’m going to get. He said he needed space, not this.
By the end of the week, I’m so tired of walking on eggshells and our growing distance that I know I need to say something before our awkward interactions become the new norm. I have to let him know that there’s a possibility I made a mistake—that maybe it’s okay if we do try to be something real.