Four Letter Feelings (The Jeremy Lewis Series Book 1)

by Lasairiona McMaster

  “I’m not pissed at you, man.” Jeremy answered as he grabbed himself a plate of mac and cheese and sat at the table. “I’m pissed at myself. I knew I wasn’t ok, but I shoved that shit down, ignored it and poured whisky on it. I picked fights for no reason and punched walls. Dude, that shit isn’t normal and I friggin’ knew it. I chalked it up to grief and convinced myself that it would all just go away by itself. I was sure that was the answer to my problems. I isolated myself, pulled back from all of you and when I realized that wasn’t working, I didn’t know how to make it stop.”

  AJ grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured two glasses before returning the milk to the fridge and sitting across the table from Jeremy.

  “And you,” he continued. “I don’t even know what to say to you. I feel pretty awful, man. I abandoned you and I wasn’t there when you needed me. I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t notice how far gone you were, either.”

  “Wait—” AJ interrupted as he finished his burrito and poured himself a bowl of potato soup. “I can’t let you sit there and beat yourself up over not being there for me when I needed you when you saved my goddamn life, Jer.” He held a hand up to silence Jeremy’s protest. “No. You were. You were there when I needed you most, because I was dying. I did that. I took those pills, I wrote that damn note and I wanted it all to end. I wanted to stop feeling every little thing. I did that. But what you did, you… you saved my life, Jer. I can’t ever repay you for that. I feel bad you felt you needed to research how to act in case of an overdose, I really do, but I also feel grateful as shit that you did, man. You have every reason to be angry at me for what I did, hell, I’m angry at myself, but I’m going to try and work through it.”

  Jeremy sighed. “I’m going to be honest with you, ok?” he looked AJ straight in his eyes as he swallowed some soup and nodded. “You’re right. I am angry at you. I know I shouldn’t be. I know your brain chemistry was off, I know now that you were off your meds. I know you were feeling hopeless and alone and I know you probably didn’t want to actually die so much as you wanted to stop feeling, but I’m mad. I’m mad that you were going to leave me.” He stopped talking and took a drink of milk in a bid to steady himself. “You are all I have left, man. You’re it. You’re the only family I got, and you were just going to leave me. So yeah, I feel a bit betrayed and abandoned. I get that it’s irrational. I get that it’s selfish and I’m going to have to work through it all with Sheila ʼcause it’s probably not even connected to you and it’s probably because my mom made me eat vegetables when I was a kid or something, but I’m mad. I’m mad that you thought it was ok to leave me, even though I know you were probably not even thinking at all when you did it. How fucked up is that, man? How can I blame you for something you didn’t have the presence of mind to know any better about at the time?”

  “Ok, first of all, thank you for getting that shit off your chest. I appreciate you levelling with me. Secondly, if something ever does happen to me, you’re not alone. You know my mom won’t allow that at all. You know it, I know it, in fact, she probably loves you more than she loves me at this point,” he joked with an eye roll. “Lastly, it’s not fucked up. Your feelings are valid and you need to acknowledge them and stop shoving them aside. Your therapist will help with that, I’m sure. I’m really sorry, Jer. I’m going to do all I can to make sure I don’t fall off the rails again, ok? I’m going to do better, I’m going to be better, and with any luck we’ll both live to be crotchety old men who live next door to each other with our families. You’ll feed both houses though,” he said, lifting a spoonful of soup in a toast. “ʼCause this is delicious!”

  ***

  Jeremy found the next few weeks tough. Trying to get back into a decent routine and pulling his grades up from ‘bare minimum’ was exhausting, but he felt as though he was finally getting traction on his life for the first time in months. His visits to Sheila were proving to be beneficial but exhausting. She was probing and pushing him, making him delve deep into his emotions and often left him feeling raw and exposed. But she was also helping him, he was feeling more and more stable as the weeks progressed.

  Things around the house with AJ had become better, too, as they spent more time together and stopped avoiding each other. It was almost like old times. Jeremy did, however, occasionally find himself often staring at his friend wondering if he was as ok as he was leading the world to believe. He knew he had to work on trusting AJ to reach out when he was in crisis, but part of him still felt guilty for not being more present when AJ needed him, and missing the signs that he needed help.

  They’d both been putting in the hard work over the past few weeks, they were both eating and sleeping better, they were training harder and playing better on the ice, and they were both paying more attention to their school work. Jeremy felt energized and focused, and while the gaping hole in his chest still ached every day, the pain was becoming less and less debilitating.

  The bell announced his presence as he opened the door and stepped into the bookstore off the street. Adrianne glanced up from her computer screen and smiled as soon as she recognized him.

  “Jeremy!” she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and rushing around from behind the counter to greet him. Throwing her arms around him she gave him a squeeze. “How have you been? It’s been forever! You look good, are you good? I heard about…” she paused, unsure how to say it. He’d become accustomed to the awkwardness of people around the subject of his parents’ murders. She stared at him with the same sad, sympathetic eyes he’d also come to expect when people broached the subject.

  He nodded. “My parents? Yeah…” He never really knew how to answer people when they trailed off like that and fought the urge to clam up and dismiss the entire conversation, every, single time.

  “Are you doing ok?”

  He shoved his hands into his back pockets and rocked back on his heels.

  Awkward. It all feels so awkward.

  “As ok as can be expected, I guess.” He shrugged for emphasis. He knew people didn’t mean anything negative by asking how he was doing. They were just trying to find a way to show him they cared, but his instinctive reaction was to ask how the hell they thought he was doing after having his parents taken from him by a crazed man with a gun.

  He guessed she sensed it wasn’t his favorite topic, as she ushered him up to the counter. “What can I do for you today?” she asked. “I’m looking for a gift for… eh, someone. I saw on her Facebook that she likes someone called K.K. Allen. Do you have anything in here by her?”

  “Facebook stalking her likes, eh?” she nudged him playfully and gave him a knowing look. “Must be serious, Jer. Oh, wow, are you blushing. This is precious!” She giggled, which only made his blushing intensify. “As a matter of fact, I have a few copies left of her new release, Through the Lens.”

  “Have you read it?” he asked, taking the book from her.

  She nodded excitedly. “I have, I loved it. Such a great enemies to lovers romance!”

  Her voice sounded soft and hopeful and she had that doe-eyed-Disney look on her face that she’d had when he’d bought the book for Ana’s birthday so he decided to take the chance. The worst that could happen was Chelsea would hate it, or she’d already have it, in which case he’d get points for trying. He knew from her Facebook page that she was planning a weekend trip back to Alabama and he wanted to have it ready for her when she did. He was convinced he could finally get her to agree to a date with him and he wanted it to go perfectly when she did.

  He had seen Jess a few times in passing. And while he could be wrong, he got the impression that she didn’t have time to deal with someone ‘broken’ right now, so she seemed to keep her distance from him, and despite missing the earth-shattering sex, he felt ok with that. He didn’t want to surround himself with friends he couldn’t count on, or be himself with. He knew what he was signing up to with her from the start and it didn’t involve complicated emotions like grief and depression. It wa
s simply physical.

  If the past few months had taught him anything, though, was that he really was ready to try for a relationship with someone. He’d been lonely. He’d slept with way too many random women and while it had been fun, he still found himself yearning for more, yearning for intimacy, yearning for that connection people talked about. The more he tried to put Chelsea out of his head and forget about her, the more she kept popping up in his mind. He’d taken the time to read her interests on her Facebook profile and had learned a lot about what types of food and music she liked. He’d talked to Sheila about how to ‘win her over’ and she had told him that it wasn’t quite as simple as all that and the one thing Chelsea probably needed more than anything, was patience. He didn’t want to rush her, and he didn’t want to spook her either but he was sure of one thing, that if the time ever came when she was ready to pursue the chemistry between them, he would be game.

  He paid for the book, and as Adrianne checked him out and handed it to him, she paused for a minute. He tilted his head to the side and pulled his brows together in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

  “A Henry David Thoreau quote has just popped into my head. I read it in that book actually” she started, nodding at the book in his hand and clearly unsure whether she should be saying anything at all.

  “What’s the quote?”

  “Not until we are lost, do we begin to understand ourselves.”

  Chapter 30

  Jeremy felt an odd mixture of sadness and pride as he watched the finals of the Frozen Four, playoff tournament. He was sad that the Chargers’ winning streak and their playoff run had come to an end, but he was also proud at how far he, and the entire team, had come. It was the second weekend of April and the Chargers’ quest for victory had fallen short of making it to the top four teams, but they’d gelled together as such a cohesive unit that for a moment he had thought they’d do it. He and AJ hosted the team to watch the final game of the hockey season and he was sure that underneath all of the empty pizza boxes and beer bottles, their house still remained.

  Most of the players had left as soon as the game had finished, but Blake, Chris and Mike had stayed behind to shoot the shit and hang out. As Jeremy stepped over some discarded pizza boxes with trash bags in hand, he shook his head.

  “I mean, I always knew we ate a lot, but shit, y’all. That’s a lot of freakin’ pizza!”

  Blake laughed. “Dude, you ate like thirty-five percent of the total pizza that arrived at this house tonight. You know that, right? I dunno where the hell you put it, but I know you consumed it!”

  Jeremy shrugged as he tossed a bag at Blake, and started to collect all of the beer bottles in the other. “What can I say? I gotta good appetite.”

  “Oh, I know you do, big boy,” Blake answered with a wink. “And I also know you ain’t been getting any lately, and I didn’t see you drink a single beer all night. What gives? You been abducted by aliens or something?”

  “Nah, man. I’m just having a bit of an alcohol detox,” he answered truthfully. He knew his friends had witnessed his crash and burn so there was no point in lying to them.

  “Good for you,” Mike encouraged. “Not to sound like a patronizing prick or anything, but you’ve definitely done a complete one-eighty, man. We’re all proud of you.”

  Jeremy smiled, and blushed at the recognition. He hated the fact he had crashed out so hard, but at the same time he was proud of himself for finding the strength to turn it around and make things better for himself.

  “Now if he could just find a woman to put up with him for more than one night, our lil Jer Jer would be a happy man,” Chris joked.

  “I’ll drink to that,” Jeremy muttered, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. In a moment of weakness, he’d turned on notifications on Facebook, so every time Chelsea posted on her Facebook page, he got an alert. He opened the app and clicked on the notification and saw a picture of her, looking gorgeous and out with her friends at the local bar.

  Well, well, Ms. Davis, look who’s in town.

  “All this talk of women… anyone fancy a beer at the bar?”

  Chris and Mike declined, AJ said he’d finish cleaning up the mess before heading to his parents’ house for the weekend so before long, Blake and Jeremy were ordering a beer at the bar.

  “Is he here?” Jer asked Blake with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

  “I dunno.” He looked eagerly around the bar, causing Jer to smile. Blake and Ben hadn’t officially labelled their relationship as a relationship, but they’d certainly progressed into something. Jeremy wasn’t quite sure where they were at, but Blake didn’t turn to a puddle of goo on the floor when he bumped into Ben and he knew that they’d gone out on a few dates. Blake said they were taking it slowly, Ben had been burned by his ex and he’d been bullied in high school for being gay so wasn’t as out out as Blake was. For that reason, Blake didn’t want to put a label on it, or rush it and he was convinced he was going to mess everything up somehow. Jeremy wasn’t sure where Blake got his balls of steel from but he knew that life as a black gay athlete in the south couldn’t have been easy, so if anyone would be sensitive to what Ben was going through, it would be Blake.

  “I see him.” Jeremy spotted Ben standing with friends behind Blake.

  “Don’t mess with me, man.” He shoved Jeremy playfully. “I ain’t your performing monkey, yo.”

  “Not kidding, Blake, he’s over there. You should go say hi.”

  Jeremy didn’t have to tell him twice and soon found himself alone at the bar sipping on an ice cold, non-alcoholic beer. He knew he could have had a real beer, or two, but he still didn’t feel steady enough within himself to start down that path just yet.

  “Do you come here often?” A familiar voice asked from behind him.

  “More often when a certain beautiful woman is in town,” he answered with a grin, as he turned to face her. Standing from his stool he leaned towards her and kissed her lightly on her cheek.

  “Is this what we do now, Jer? We cheek-kiss in greeting?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “What? You don’t think we’re cheek kissers? I think we could be cheek kissers.” He huffed out an overly dramatic sigh. “That said, I definitely would much rather kiss other areas …”

  She gave him a playful shove. “I bet you would, Mr. Lewis. I bet you would.”

  He shrugged. “How long are you in town for Ms. Davis?”

  “Just through the weekend. Why?”

  “Do you always answer a question with a question?” he wondered aloud.

  “When it comes to you, Jer, there’s almost always a ‘why’ lurking. It’s best to just cut straight to it.”

  “You’re right. I want to cook dinner for you.”

  She blinked at him slowly, as though she misheard, and blinked again. Shaking her head, she leaned closer to him. “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

  He chuckled. “I want to cook dinner for you,” he repeated, his mouth was so close to her ear he felt her shudder ever so slightly as he spoke. “Tomorrow night, my house.”

  “Should we have the emergency services on standby, y’know, just in case?” Her laugh was light and nervous. “Or should I grab some Pepto… for the food poisoning?”

  “You can joke all you like, but I’m cooking dinner for you tomorrow night and if you feel like it, you can stay for dessert.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What’s all this in aid of?”

  “I just want to say thank you, for helping me with Age. He has no idea you were there though and I really want to keep it that way, okay? He was embarrassed enough as it is, I don’t want to upset him.”

  She nodded. “So, you really cook?” the glint in her eyes under the bar lighting made him hopeful that she’d consider his offer of dessert.

  “Not for just anyone,” he answered. “But for you… for you I’ll cook, as a thank you. You like steak?”

  She nodded.

  “Allergies?”

  She
shook her head. “What can I bring?”

  “Dessert.”

  ***

  The next morning Jeremy went for a long run to clear his head. Excitement and nerves fluttered in his stomach. He was distracted and tripped over his own feet as he ran, causing him to stumble. Slowing to a jog, he gave himself a shake. He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so nervous. He’d dated women before, he’d even cooked for one, once. But with Chelsea, she’d blown him off so many times he felt that maybe this was the one shot he had at winning her over. He didn’t want to lay on the charm, he didn’t want to wow her with his bedroom skills, he wanted her to like him, for who he was, and maybe that’s what the difference was. Maybe that’s why he felt so incredibly nervous about their dinner.

  After a shower and a trip to the grocery store, he paced the kitchen, buzzing with nervous energy. With AJ at his parents’ house there was no one to distract him or get him outside his own head. He texted a few friends to see if they wanted to play a game of pick-up basketball, or disc golf, but everyone was busy. He decided to distract himself by putting together a butternut squash soup as an impromptu appetizer to watch a movie. Flicking through the movie channels something caught his eye and he stopped, feeling a familiar feeling creeping up his spine. The movie was ‘Dirty Dancing’, his mom’s favorite and the very sight of it took Jeremy back to his childhood. His mom singing at his dad while his dad pretended to be completely disinterested until he burst into song.

  He snapped off the TV with a quick press of the remote and dropped it onto the coffee table but he could feel that the damage had already been done and the first domino had been toppled. He sat on the edge of the sofa and tipped his head forward into his hands, lacing his fingers together behind his head. He tried to concentrate on his breathing, like Sheila had taught him to do in moments like this, where his grief blindsided him and he was forcibly dragged backwards into the shock, anger and overwhelming distress that his parents were gone.