Dying to Remember (The Station #2)

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Dying to Remember (The Station #2) Page 10

by Trish Marie Dawson


  I knew all these feelings, having felt them before myself. After spending a considerable amount of time sympathizing with Jess, I begin to softly push her away from these thoughts and on to something - anything else that would distract her. I have her practice finding something beautiful every time she looks in the mirror and I make her count the times she chews her food before swallowing. It becomes a game of life and death, and I have been determined to come out a winner, with Jess on top beside me. I know what cutting feels like, so I steer her away from that by filling her mind with thoughts of stitches and staples and endless emergency room visits. Considering that both her parents were doctors, this kept the razor on her leg stubble for the time being.

  I also grab on to her conflicted emotions about Cole with everything I have. When a person is suicidal, distraction from the pain is good - but only temporary. Jess has to pull herself up off the floor and find a reason for living. The void inside her is not something any other living person can fill. But Cole was…different. He had been there too, where Jess is. Perhaps their friendship could pull them both out of the darkness and into the light together.

  If I prayed, I would do so every morning when Jess opens her eyes and dazes sleepily out her bedroom window. Instead I imagine her happy. I hope for the change that will come that will catapult her into the better years of her life.

  Days became weeks and those weeks slowly became months. It seemed every time we would get close to moving on, something would happen that would snap Jess backwards into a depression. But thankfully, she was strong, and I was patient.

  Cole becomes a friend unlike any Jess has ever had before. The town eventually forgets that a boy died in her backyard and her parents went back to ignoring her. No charges were ever filed against her for Chris's death and that alone dissipated the ominous cloud that hovered over her head the entire summer. And her mirror became a sister. A place she could sit and vent her inner most secrets and fears without rejection. Slowly, she begins to see the beauty that she is. Not on the outside, but the inside.

  And hope. It tickles at her feet like a feather, subtle but always present. Hope is what I need for her to feel, so she can move on, so I could one day leave her.

  Hope. It's the most powerful four-letter word in the English language. She has to see it, feel it - believe in it. And we're getting closer every day.

  But then Cole had to go and ruin everything by kissing her.

  CHAPTER 12

  It happens at the canyon drop off. Where they go weekly to sit on the hood of Cole's car and talk about life after high school. Cold gusts of wind gallop up the canyon wall with the horsepower of an entire band of wild stallions. Jess's long hair is always in a constant state of mess from the wild breezes here but she doesn't mind the fresh air and the view, be it the majestic one below them, or the stunning one that sits at her elbow, lounged on top of the dented metal of the Jeep hood.

  They're talking about the new school year and their return to separate high schools on opposite sides of town, when Jess looks up to watch a soaring eagle. Suddenly, Cole leans across the empty inches between them and tugs on the collar of her blouse, pulling her attention and her head toward him. His mouth is hot and moist, and as his eager lips wrap around her startled ones, she closes her eyes, shutting me out from the view of his dark lashes that flutter closed against his cheeks.

  Dang. I wouldn't mind another view of that face up close.

  If there was a reward for 'Most Romantic Kiss Ever' Cole surely would have won the gold. Jess melts into him, at first startled and unsure, but quickly gets lost in the taste and feel of Cole's gentle mouth moving against hers. Even though she parts her lips for him, he doesn't probe beyond them. The kiss is sweet and innocent…and real.

  What a gentleman.

  I fill my own memory of the first kiss I shared with Sloan and though they were different, the feeling was somehow the same; like I knew Cole through that kiss. He has no clue I am such a huge part of Jess's life at the moment, but there was no doubting all three of us are connected.

  And then school starts. The peace I had worked so hard for Jess to achieve over the summer is shattered by the end of that first week. Though the old Betty's had stopped talking about Chris's death in groups on street corners, the kids hadn't forgotten. And everyone wants to hear from the girl herself how he died. Jess was clamored by an endless flow of classmates everywhere she went.

  "How'd it happen?"

  "Did you see him die?"

  "Is it true that he died with his eyes open?"

  "My mom said it wasn't an accident."

  "Did you kill him?"

  After five days, neither of us can take it anymore. She begs, pleads and demands to be kept home from school for her senior year. When they say she can't be homeschooled, she threatens to run away. I don't agree with that concept, but I completely understand it. Cole doesn't do as well himself. By then it was clear that they were an item, and if the gory details couldn't be squeezed from Jess, Cole was the next best target.

  He lasted three weeks in school before he locked himself up in his small, cluttered bedroom. Being the son of a cop was hard enough, but dating someone who the whole town thought killed her ex-boyfriend was beginning to prove harder than any of us had imagined.

  "Hey," he says through the phone. His voice sounds muffled and far away.

  "Hi…what are you up to?" Jess asks.

  "Nothing, avoiding everyone, I guess."

  A moment of silence passes between them as Jess tightly grips her cell phone. "I-I miss you," she says quietly.

  Cole sighs, "Yeah?"

  "You going to school on Monday?"

  "Ummm…no," Cole laughs.

  "Me neither. Want to do something?"

  Please don’t whine into the phone, love. That will backfire, trust me.

  "I mean, if you want, maybe we could get out of the house for a bit. I will. I mean, I plan on doing something. You can come if you'd like," Jess stumbles with her words, struggling to firm up her voice.

  "Sure."

  "Okay," she breathes out a sigh of relief. "So, how is ten - sound good?"

  "Perfect. And Jess?"

  "Mmm?"

  "Miss you too."

  ***

  The Levy's weren't aware yet that Jess ditched the second half of school the week before, but Cole's father is not only aware but furious that his son will not leave his room and go to class. Cole stands two inches taller than his father, and even though no violence had ever occurred between the two, the Detective was leery to challenge his son. So he did what most parents do: threaten, ground, remove the X-Box and everything else he could think of to make Cole's self-enforced house arrest less tolerable. But he forgot to take the boy's car keys.

  When Monday comes around, he meets Jess at the pancake house looking scruffy and unkempt. His clothes are ruffled and his hair sticks out on the sides despite being hidden underneath a frayed ball cap. Jess's absence from school has cleared her mind and left her feeling refreshed. Cole on the other hand seems to have gotten worse.

  "You look like hell," Jess clucks as he settles into their favorite corner booth, complete with a myriad of cracks up and down the vinyl.

  "Thanks, I was going for a certain look. I guess I succeeded." It's obvious he's depressed. Panic settles in at the thought of him pulling Jess down with him.

  Keep your head up kiddo; smile and stay positive.

  The moment the thought leaves my mind and travels into hers Cole leans forward so his arms rest on the faded orange table top. His eyes are barely visible beneath the bill of his hat. Before he speaks, he glances nervously around them.

  "I have a question," he says quietly. His lower lip twitches and Jess leans close to him, unsure of what was coming.

  "Yeah?"

  "What do you know about suicide pacts?" he whispers.

  Back at the Station, where some sort of magical port holds my body in limbo, my blood slows, running almost cold enough to freeze, and m
y stomach does the sort of flip-flop thing reserved only for free-falling rides at amusement parks.

  Please, no.

  CHAPTER 13

  At first Jess laughs. I know she doesn’t think what Cole said is funny - it's just her nervous reaction to the words. But he doesn't know that. His eyes narrow and he pushes away from the table, looking quickly to the left and right for eavesdroppers.

  "I'm serious," he says coolly as Jess swipes at the little trickle of snot running from her nose.

  "What?" she asks, her smile fading quickly.

  "You've never thought of it?" The paleness in his eyes glows as he studies her. If she was to stare at his gaze long enough, I'm almost certain I'd be able to see Jess's reflection looking back at her.

  "With you? Of course not! Why are you even asking me this?" Her voice is thunderous and immediately Cole raises his hands to quiet her.

  "So, I'm not good enough?" Cole stares angrily at Jess, his eyes hardening.

  "That's not what I meant! I just…I just feel better now. I used to think about this all the time, but since meeting you…I don't know, it's not like I sit around all day long thinking about how to kill myself anymore."

  "Sshh. I don't want anyone to hear us!" he hisses.

  "Really? Perhaps someone should."

  Cole slides to the edge of the seat but just before he can push himself away from the table, Jess reaches out and grabs his hand. The hat hides most of his face, but we both see the wet tear track on his cheek. Slowly he pulls his hand out from under hers, but she's faster than him, and she jumps up, swinging around the end of the table and onto his bench, nearly sitting on his leg.

  "What is it?" she asks as he struggles to keep her from seeing his face.

  "Nothing," is his grumbled answer.

  "Cole. I know you. It's not nothing. I thought - aren't we on the same page here? We made a promise to each other, remember?"

  Remind him of your first date, or the first kiss. How if felt for the two of you to connect with another person.

  She reaches out, cupping his scratchy chin in her hand. More tears have streaked his face, but he hasn't dared reach up to brush them away. When he finally meets her eyes his own look back at her like two over-flowing swimming pools.

  "If there's one thing I learned all summer, it's that we can't go through life totally alone. People need people. And you and I, we're not that different. We have people, but not the right kind. You are my people. Don't you dare do anything to change that, got it?"

  He stares at her, allowing her to see the tears spill from his eyes and flow down his face, dribbling softly onto her skin. She leaves her hand there while he leans forward, kissing her forcefully on the mouth.

  Kissing won't solve this, but it's a start.

  And it was, because if they loved each other, they had something - someone else to live for. Gently I work out a plan in her mind, a way to keep her from sending her foundation crumbling down and hopefully a way to keep Cole from plummeting over his own edge, dragging Jess to the abyss with him.

  It's simple really. You have to take this one day at a time.

  After all my training and experience - that's it. That's all I have. Because I know Jess has to do the footwork herself. You either want to live, or you don't. I've shown Jess the joys of being self-confidant and independent and the benefits of making real friends. I've shown her everything I have to give her and more. As only the hitch-hiking passenger in her mind, I'll eventually have to sit back and watch what she chooses to do. It's all up to her now. And I need to have full faith that she can do it.

  "I tell you what. Today is Monday. Let's just get through today, okay? Talk about tomorrow - tomorrow. Can we both do that?" she says with her lips hovering just inches away from Cole's.

  "Just get through today?" he repeats.

  With a nod, Jess wraps her slender hand around his, enjoying the feel of his strong grip. Eventually they stop staring at one another long enough to order a sundae, which they share. Afterwards it's back to their opposite sides of town, and into the bowels of the lives they so badly want to grow up and out of.

  She avoids her parents all evening, but Isabel corners her in the kitchen as Jess helps load the dinner mess into the stainless steel automatic dishwasher. She recognizes the furrow in the woman's brow…a chastisement was coming.

  Isabel's features soften as she gazes at Jess. After placing a worn and wrinkled hand on her arm, she speaks quietly, "I know you have been sneaking out, Miss. You aren't in trouble are you?" The woman's accent was strong.

  "Everything's okay Isabel, don't worry," Jess says, as she squeezes the older woman's hand in hers.

  "This new boy. He's your friend?"

  "Yes, he's a friend," Jess says with a smile.

  "Just a friend, Miss?" Isabel peers at her with a knowing look.

  "I don't know what it is yet. But you'll be the first person I tell when I figure it out."

  Isabel's face warms and she hugs Jess to her, something she doesn't do regularly, not since Jess was out of pig-tails. The woman's full bosom threatens to choke her, but she appreciates the embrace. Her parents never touch her.

  "Just…be careful with yourself, Miss." Isabel says with her eyes full of tears.

  Jess blinks slowly at her back while Isabel returns to cleaning the kitchen, bustling from one counter to the other, spraying cleaner and wiping it off. She must have known about the abortion. But she never judged her, never lectured her. Isabel would always be Jess's people too.

  ***

  The 'one day at a time' pledge seems to be working for Jess and Cole. Both of them have reluctantly returned to school, and do their best to keep their chins up and their ears closed to the snide comments their fellow students make. It's the last year of high school and I keep reminding Jess of this.

  Just a few more months and then you're free.

  As Jess makes more of an effort to be kinder to herself, I begin to slip away from her. It's so gradual at first that I don't notice. She no longer hears my simple suggestions. She's taking her mind over again - which is a good thing. That's the way it's supposed to happen. But leaving her will be bittersweet. She seems happy with Cole. He's sweet, he's kind to her. He knows a part of her that no one else does and he can relate to it. And the fact that he was so easy on the eyes isn't hard for her at all.

  We had become like a family; the three of us. So the day before Halloween, when the air is full of electricity from the upcoming storm and moisture hangs from the clouds impatiently awaiting a release, I'm not surprised to feel the tug between us snap like a rubber band.

  It's time.

  Jess is brushing her hair and begins pulling it back into sections; twisting the blonde locks into messy braids. I watch her in the mirror, studying her features so I will never forget them. She's humming and smiling to herself, thinking about Cole. About the Halloween party her parents agreed to let her host that weekend. About life. About a future. Her future. And just as the first drops of rain begin to trickle slowly down her bedroom windows, I glance at the reflection of her shirt that says: Live, love, laugh.

  A tingle spreads throughout my skin first and then the pinching starts as my vision begins to tunnel out. I hold on for one more second, just long enough to flood her mind with one final thought before the Station calls me home…

  Jess's hands freeze in her hair as she stares into the mirror, slowly nodding her head, her eyes filling with tears as I speak to her. No matter what happens, Jess…live well, love hard and laugh always.

  CHAPTER 14

  I'm back. I'm home. As I have done with every return to the Station before, I curl my toes under, feeling the coolness of the glassy surface below my feet. I deeply inhale the air around me and lick my lower lip. Back in my body once again, I relish the feel of my limbs, of the soft fabric of my tank top and pajama shorts as they rub against my skin as I move toward the door. I lose myself in the feel of it all…so grateful to be back.

  Half-expecting to see
Niles on the other side looking worried or concerned, I set my face into a hard and unreadable expression before I leave the small departure room. But no one stands in the depot lobby waiting for me. Simultaneously feeling bummed and relieved, I let my shoulders slump forward as I run my hand along the port wall, feeling the smooth edges of the assignment cards until my fingertips land on Jess's. The connection to her world and mine is all in that little piece of slate-colored glass not much bigger than an index card.

  Cradling the card in my hand, I turn it over, getting lost in the shadowy pearlescent glow that moves inside, curious as to what it is exactly, and how it works. I'm so engrossed in my wonder that when the second portal door opens with a rush of sound, I jump. A man just a few years older than me with shoulder-length brown hair steps out all smiles. I struggle to hold my composure while forcing myself to smile back at him and look only at his face while he approaches the wall, plucking his assignment card from it.

  We nod at each other before he turns, leaving the room first. While I watch him exit the departure room, my eyes naturally cast downward as he walks, hovering over the bareness of his backside. For the first time, I've just come face to face with a nude Volunteer.

  Welcome back, I think to myself with a chuckle.

  After returning my card to the Consignment Department check-in desk, I wander to the back of the room to study the bulletin board. It's always full of Assignment faces I don't recognize but I easily pick out Kerry-Anne and Mallory. And Sloan. Sloan.

  Just thinking about seeing him again sends delicious chills up and down my spine. I remember the silken feel of his lips on mine, and the refreshing smell of him. The sensation of my body molding into his fills my memory and I turn away from the bulletin board, closing my eyes long enough to picture the angular features of Sloan's face. His bright eyes haunt me, and his perfectly shaped nose and the strong line of his jaw make me smile. And his hair. Never in my life have I wanted to run my hands so badly through another person's hair. Sloan is my drug, and I'm addicted.

 

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