A stinging sensation scratches my throat, and I swallow hard to push down the pain. “Cora. Maybe I should—”
“Don’t say it Jax. Please don’t say it. We’ve practically spent every day for the last five years together. I can’t lose you.”
Her voice breaks on the last few words, and I return my gaze to her. Her knees are pulled close to her chest, arms tightly wrapped around them as she brushes away her tears with the back of her hand while staring intensely at the floor.
I don’t know if I can just be her friend when I’m starting to have deeper feelings for her. Feelings I can’t express. I know what Gram told me, but I’m beginning to think Gram was wrong. Love shouldn’t be this hard. I feel like I’m dying inside, and Cora’s just asked me to stay where I am. To stay her—friend.
I want to walk out the door without giving her an answer. I want to make a magic potion that either speeds time up for her or rewinds my life, so we’ll be the same age. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Does she even know what she’s asking of me? Of course not. How could she?
I look over at her and all it takes is one glimpse of her pain and I’m done for. “I’ll try.”
* * *
– Three Years Later –
I kept my promise to Cora.
I continued to be there for her. I wrote music for her end-of-year reviews and every summer I was thankful when she went away for eight weeks. Having a count-down to summer wasn’t an unheard-of thing for a kid, but for me, summer meant relief from her. She would be in New York doing whatever it was she did there and I could have a small sense of freedom.
I could breathe freely. I could speak freely. I didn’t have to watch my actions or what I said. I wasn’t tempted to hold her, or kiss her, or tell her how I was always thinking of her. I wasn’t having to restrain myself.
I was now a junior in high school and finally able to date. Thank God for little blessings. I was hoping I could distract myself long enough to finish high school and get the hell out of town. Far away from her and the bitterness she was creating in my life.
I had my sights set on Berklee College of Music in Massachusetts or the Manhattan School of Music in New York, granted that one was strictly a back-up. Cora had plans to attend the American School of Ballet, also in New York, but who knew, by then I was hoping to be in a better place.
Jace and I were still friends, but after throwing the game winning pass that won our school the championship in junior high, girls and dating took first place while our band fell apart. I still hit up every open mic night and took every possible gig that I could.
Dad taught me to drive this summer and now I wasn’t confined to just our house and Cora’s.
As long as I was home by eleven, my parents were pretty good about letting me go out.
Taking one final look in the bathroom mirror mom’s voice carries up the stairs “Jax, be a dear and pick Cora up for school this morning would you?”
My fingers grip tight to the stone countertop as I swear under my breath before shouting out my reply. “Why can’t she ride the bus like Emma and Becca? It’s the first time I can drive to school and I don’t want to be chauffeur to some middle schooler.”
“Excuse me!” Shit. Shit. Shitty Shit. I knew better than to back talk my mother, the only person worse than her was Aunt Presley, and I was about ninety-five percent positive that saying no to taking Cora to school would have her griping as well. Mom’s feet rapidly climbed the stairs, and I met her in the hallway.
“You’ll do as you’re told, or you won't be driving at all. How about that. You’ll be the junior getting dropped off by your mother and I’m sure your date Friday night would love to have a chaperone.”
My head snaps in her direction, “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Wanna try me?” Her lips curl up in an evil, conniving, demonic smirk before turning confused. “And why all the sudden issue with Cora?”
This, I knew, she wouldn’t let drop. How could I tell her that Cora infuriated me. That her presence alone was a black spot on my life. That I wanted nothing to do with her and that I couldn’t wait to get out of this town just so I wouldn’t have to feel anything.
I roll my eyes, click my tongue behind my teeth and grab my bookbag. I needed to leave if I was gonna drop her off at school and get to the high school on time. “Fine, I’ll drop her off.”
Moms still confused demonic expression changes to that of a happy clam as she says her thanks and bounces out of my room and down the stairs.
I want to rip my hair out and punch a wall, but then Dad would be on my case, Emma would call me a Neanderthal, and Beccs, well, she’d either hand me a sledgehammer and bust my ass for throwing a shitty punch, or tell me to quit being a pussy and do something about Cora. None of the four sounded appealing.
Cora had been home now for a week and I had managed to avoid her by picking up extra hours at work and a couple of gigs.
Giving myself a once over, I’m about to head downstairs when I hear Cora come through the front door.
“Knock, knock. Anybody awake?” Her voice was shy and timid, a stark contrast to Mom’s loud and welcome tone. “Hey Aunt Liv.” God, her voice was tearing me up inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity Fuck.
“Jax should be down in a minute, sweetie. Do you want anything?” I don’t hear a reply so she must have shaken her head in some way. “How was New York?”
“Good. Tiring. I don’t think it’s ever taken me this long to get my energy back though.”
That’s because it hasn’t. You were always a ball of energy when you came home. I haven’t seen her yet and even I know something’s wrong with her. Certainly Mom’s not that blind.
“Well I’m glad you had fun.”
“Yea.”
I look at my watch and get my butt in gear. At this rate we’ll both be late for school. Don’t look at her Jax. Grab the keys and get to the car. Drive. Drop off. Don’t look at her.
“You ready?” I call to her from the top of the stairs while sliding my arms through the straps on my backpack. No sound of emotion in my voice. Plain. Dry. Cold. That’s how I was going to get through this year until she went away for the summer.
“Yea. Bye, Aunt Liv.” Her voice matched mine. Plain. Dry. Cold. And then hints of depression. Don’t read into it Jax. It’s better this way.
I high step it down the stairs. On the landing I take one glance at her, she doesn’t even move with confidence. Just sleepily moving along, head down. “Let’s go.” I throw open the front door and head straight for the car.
“What about Emma and Becca?” she calls out behind me.
“They ride the bus.”
I hear the faintest little ‘oh’ before I slide into the drivers seat and wait for her to get in and close the door.
The drive to the middle school is quiet. Out of my peripheral I notice that Cora stares out the front window lost in a trance, her body seemingly pulled close to the door, her hands clenched together in her lap. Eyes on the road, Jax. Eyes on the road.
I pull up to the drop off zone and waiting for her to get out, but she doesn’t move. “Cora?” She’s practically comatose. She doesn’t respond to the sound of my voice, just sits there until I poke her shoulder and she snaps out of it. “You’re here.”
She looks out the window and nods. “Oh. Right. Thanks.” She looks as if she could pass for a cast member on The Walking Dead. Dark circles have taken up residency under her eyes, and her floppy top knot flops back and forth with her body’s subtle movements. This is not the usual first day of school look for Cora.
She gets out of the car and walks towards the building, never even looking back. This is what I wanted. Distance from her and here she was giving it to me unknowingly and yet I hated it. Something else was going on. Maybe something happened in New York. She hasn’t been this quiet around me since she moved back all those years ago.
* * *
– One Week Earlier –
I’ve been gone for two months and I’m beyond ecst
atic to see Jax. I rush my luggage into my room and look out the window to see Jax and Jace in the tree house. A smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I can't wait to get down there and say hi, to pretend I don’t have feelings for Jax and then wait as he somehow finds a way to sneak just a second alone with me. I couldn’t wait to be tight against his chest, to drink in his hot boy cologne, and wonder what in the world he ever saw in me.
Soph told me I should tell him how I feel, but I’m still not sure. He’s in high school and I’m in middle school. Maybe next year.
I race down to the tree house and ready myself to climb up the ladder.
“Hey, when does Cora get back?”
I smile at hearing them talk about me. I think I’ll pop up and just yell surprise. I place my foot on the bottom ladder rung and pushup from the ground.
“Don’t know and don’t really care.”
I look up at where the voice was coming from. What the hell. That was definitely Jax’s voice. Who pissed in his cheerios this morning? And what does he mean, he doesn’t care.
I place my foot back on the ground and stay there, just listening. Maybe Jace will call him out on being a big fat douche canoe.
“Man, what’s gotten into you? You and Cora used to be inseparable and now it’s like you can't even stand her name. What gives?”
Really? My name? What did I do to him? Thanks for sticking up for me, Jace.
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m just glad I’ve got a car now and can use work as an excuse to not be around her.”
“What’d she ever do to you? Y’all have a fight or something before she left?”
I rack my brain and can't think of a single reason why Jax would be acting like this.
“Nothing. Just drop it would you. Cora is nothing.”
Tears sting at my eyes and I choke back a sob.
“Besides, I’ve got a date Friday night. Cora is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Alright, great, so you have a date, congrats to you, but you’re at least gonna see her when she gets back, right?”
“Not if I can help it.”
I bite my finger and hold myself steady against the trunk of the tree. What did I do?
“You’re being a dick dude. She doesn’t deserve to be given the cold shoulder.”
Well, at least Jace seems to want me around. I can't bear the thought of hearing anymore. I run back to the house and barge through the back door, where mom calls out over her shoulder “Hey sweetie, dinner will be ready in a few.”
“I’m not eating.” I say calmly, trying to keep my voice from cracking, but I fail miserably. My shoes make a thumping sound as I run up the stairs and close my bedroom door. Flailing myself across the bed and begin soaking my pillow in tears.
Two soft knocks and a small door creek, “Cora?”
“Go away, Mom.” I shout into my pillow just seconds before the bed dips and moms long thin fingers begin stroking my hair.
“Honey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing!” I sob out.
“Cora, does this have anything to do with Jax?” Mom’s voice is tender and sweet. Her words drawn out as if they were made from Laffey Taffy.
“I said no!”
As I turn to look at her, my eyes land on a picture of Jax and I that sits on my nightstand. We were younger then, and things were simpler.
I grab it and throw it against the wall with all my might. I might have a few anger issues.
“Okay. The broken picture says otherwise. How about you tell me what’s going on.”
I bury my face in mom’s lap and grip tight to her waist. “He hates me Mom. I didn’t do anything, and he hates me.”
“Oh honey,” I can almost hear the smile in her voice. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”
“He does Mommy. I heard him telling Jace how he doesn’t want to see me at all. And…and…and he’s even got a date on Friday! Friday was our night.” I pull tighter to her, “I don’t know what I did Mommy.”
Her stomach expands with a deep breath before she lets out a long sigh, “Sweetie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Jax is growing up and he’s going to start dating. That’s just something that happens as you get older. And you’re going to have to be okay with that. Jax is older than you, that’s all.”
I hate the idea of growing up. I hate that Jax is a dipshit and obviously throwing a mantrum, and I sure as shit hated the idea of dating. Or more specifically Jax dating. That means there will be other girls around him. Girls that want to kiss him. Girls who I will no doubt want to maim. Jax is mine. He’s always been mine. I don’t want to share him.
“Okay, so when can I date?”
Mom laughs and shakes her head, “Oh honey, I don’t think your father is ready for that conversation.”
Her laughter only enrages me more. “This isn’t funny!”
“I know, sweetie.” She goes back to stroking my hair and I nestle into her lap. Stupid Jackson for doing this when I was little and needing to calm down. Stupid Jackson for teaching my parents this little trick. “The first heartbreak is always the hardest.”
My head pops up, “Heartbreak?”
“You like Jax, and right now, he doesn’t like you back.” God, how can she be so cold with her words. Just as I thought my tears were all done and dried up, she has a way of spilling them again.
“It’s not fair Mommy!”
“I know sweetie. Don’t you worry though. You will have your time when boys will be lining up to take you out, and it won't be any easier on Jax.”
“What does Jax have to do with me dating? He hates me.”
“Oh sweetie.” Again with the stupid chuckles, “That boy has loved you from the beginning. But now, you just need to worry about being a kid, and let Jackson focus on growing up. Now come down and eat dinner.”
I shift from Mom’s lap onto my pillow, and snuggle my white stuffed puppy, Peppermint. “I’m not hungry tonight. I think I just want to go to sleep.”
Mom gives a little nod before turning out the lights and closing my door. There’s no way Jax loves me.
* * *
– Two Months Later –
I haven’t seen or talked to Jax in weeks. A feeling of loneliness like I’ve never known seems to have wrapped me in a cocoon and the only thing that keeps me moving forward is ballet and keeping my grades up. Mom and Dad said that if I got another C then I was grounded from dance for a month, that would be a fate worse than death. I needed to dance to keep my sanity, however, that was slowly beginning to slip as well.
For a while I quit doing my homework and spent all my time dancing. It had been weeks since I’d even slept in my own bed. Usually I would crash on the studio floor for a couple of hours only to be awakened by thoughts of Jax which would force me back on my toes.
Mom and Dad quit trying to get me to sleep in my bed after I kept leaving in the middle of the night and coming down to the studio. I knew it wasn’t healthy, but dancing was the only thing that numbed the hurt. I welcomed the jammed toes, the broken and bloodied blisters, and the bruised ankles. If I could get my feet to hurt, then it took my mind off my heart.
It was mid-October and I would soon need to commit to a piece for my winter review.
In the past, Jax had always written something for me, but now I was on my own to find my own music. Ms. Trousseau wanted our winter review to be more of a Christmas Spectacular except, how could I pick something fun and jolly when that was the complete opposite of how I was feeling.
They say some people wear their hearts on their sleeves; well, I left mine out on the floor each time I danced.
“Cora, dear. Focus. Your form—you’re limp like a noodle.”
“Sorry.”
“Try it again.”
Ms. Trousseau was my newest ballet coach, a retired director from the Parisian Ballet Academy who expected perfection every time.
“Wrong! Again!”
As I work my way through today’s lesson, I fight
back my tears. Just another person I’m not good enough for. Another person to irritate. Another person that right now want’s nothing to do with me.
“Enough! I can't watch this any longer. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Ashamed, I hang my head and nod at the floor.
“You, young lady, need rest and a good meal. Your eyes are black and you’re practically skin and bones.”
I cast my glance at the girl staring back at me in the mirror. Ms. Trousseau was right. I hardly recognized the person I was becoming. “Yes, ma’am.” Maybe I would die before I ever had to date in front of Jax. I could never hurt him the way he hurt me.
With a somber expression, Ms. Trousseau says good night and then leaves the studio as I whisper out a good night.
I sit down to take my shoes off and stretch my toes. A few of the bandages were stained red and needed to be changed, however I stumble as I try to stand up and two fat alligator tears blur my vision just before they plip-plop onto the floor and I give up my fight for the night. “Fuck it.” I curse through my tears, ripping my bandages off.
I use my shoes as a pillow and lie down on the hard-wooden floor, looking at the clock once more before closing my eyes, eight-thirty-five.
“I love you, Buttercup.”
I bolt up from the light sleep I was in. One hour, twenty-five minutes. That’s all the time my mind could spare from thinking about Jax.
My chest heaves as instant tears come, and I gasp for air. No! I can’t do this. No! Why does it have to hurt so bad. No! Why couldn’t he have stayed. He promised me he would stay. I’m supposed to be having fun. I’m supposed to be having sleepovers and doing girly things with my friends. Not hung up on some jerk of a guy!
“I hate you, Jackson Michael.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The last time I saw Cora was when I dropped her off on the first day of the school.
I thought keeping myself busy with school, playing gigs, and dating, would help keep my mind off of her, but I was wrong.
The music I played was mellow. The music I wrote was depressing. I complained when I was stuck at work, and every time I went on a date I was ready to leave within the first thirty minutes.
Tag Fight For Me Page 23