Dipping Into Together

Ch 10

Shifting in my chair, I focused my gaze on the front of the room. My lit teacher was going on and on about something; I wasn’t even sure what. Glancing back, I saw that Jonah was slumped over his desk, asleep. Last night we had stayed out pretty later, venturing out to the little diner he had taken me to before for breakfast. I had figured out that it was actually open twenty four hours, so we went there often. Smiling, I turned back around. Over the course of several weeks, Jonah and I had become really good friends. Him picking me up in the morning was now a regular thing, and something I always looked forward to. He had gradually come out of his shell, but he still had secrets. As did I, of course. I never told him about the problems I was having with my mom. It wasn’t something I really liked talking about.

The bell rang suddenly, and everyone immediately jumped up, rushing out of the room. I hung back, waiting until most people had left, before I got up. Jonah hadn’t even heard the bell; he had slept right through it. I gently placed my hand on his shoulders and shook him. He snapped up, blinking rapidly.

“Did I fall asleep?”

“Obviously. Now get up, you need to give me a ride home.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t be dumb. Let’s go!”

He groaned and stood up reluctantly, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

When we got out into his car, he glanced over at me. “Are we going to meet again tonight?”

I just looked at him. “Obviously!”

“Sorry, sorry, just checking.”

Rolling my eyes, I settle in to the chair.

---

Around midnight, when I’m absolutely sure my mother is safely asleep, I slip out of the house. Running down the driveway, I get into Jonah’s car, which is waiting for me. Glancing over at him, I notice a new bruise under his eye. He flicks his head and his black hair quickly covers it. But not fast enough, I saw it. I freeze, staring at the spot where the bruise used to be.

“Jonah—”

“It’s cold tonight,” he cuts me off. Then, he floors it, heading in the direction of the park.

“Jonah what the hell happened?”

Silence.

“Jonah?”

Silence.

“Jonah!”

“Just stop asking, okay? Just stop!”

“What’s wrong with you?” I practically screamed at him.

He was rigid, staring straight ahead. What was going on with him? I didn’t get it. He steered us into the park parking lot and got out, leaving me sitting in the car, shocked. I watched him walk across the park and disappear into the woods. Gone, almost as if the wind picked him up and blew him away.

Sighing, I got out of the car and sprinted after him.

I never caught up with him. Instead, when I reached the top of the hill, huffing and puffing, I saw him sitting on the ground, leaning up against the rock. He had his arms wrapped around his legs, head resting against his knees. He looked so alone, so heartbreakingly sad and broken. I walked over to him cautiously.

Sitting down next to him, I made sure to keep a little distance between us. “Jonah…” I ventured.

He was shaking; he didn’t respond. Knowing that he probably didn’t want to talk about it, I tried to think of a way to comfort him. Slowly, carefully, I gripped his arm and pulled it away from the grip of his other hand and he let me. I laced my hand into his and pulled it into my lap. He squeezed my hand, but still remained silent.

Remembering the time that he had comforted me, and how he had changed the subject, allowing me time to regroup, I started to talk. I talked about the only thing I knew. “You know,” I started, my voice soft. “When I was in seventh grade, I had started to care about what I looked like. I was obsessive with my appearance. I about burned my hair straightening it, I put it so high. There would always be smoke coming out, but I never really paid any attention. I got into makeup. Heavy makeup. I put loads of it on. My dad, he watched me doing this to myself. Sometimes I wonder why he never told me straight-up to stop, but he didn’t. He would hint it all the time, though. I would just get annoyed and shrug it off, not giving it any thought.”

Jonah had released his legs and stretched them out in front of him. He shifted ever so slightly so that our shoulders were touching.

“When he died,” I continued. “I just…broke. I couldn’t deal with not having him there next to me. Since my seventh grade year, my obsession with my appearance had grown. I had become very materialistic. But then, when he died, it just all…disappeared. I didn’t care anymore. When I stopped caring, my friends, or at least I thought they were my friends, dropped me. I suddenly had no one. Absolutely no one. People never gave me much sympathy, saying that I deserved it.” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to cry. I wasn’t telling this story just to tell it; I was opening up to Jonah. If I opened up to him, then he would open up to me. That’s how it worked. “I had been very, very mean. I’d been popular, and so mean. People hated me. So, I can understand why they didn’t give me sympathy. To be honest, I didn’t even want sympathy.

“I wanted my dad back. But obviously I couldn’t, can’t, have that. So, I switched schools. Everyone hated me immediately. I don’t know why. I couldn’t tell you, even now. But they did. It was really bad at the beginning, but they’ve kind of lost interest now. I’m relieved. But little things still happen all the time. But that’s why,” I said. “That’s why I never try. That’s why I never look good.” My voice cracked at the end.

“Dessy,” Jonah said quietly.

“My dad always called me that,” I whispered.

He brought his other hand to my face, turning it so that I would look at him. In his eyes I saw such understanding, that it knocked the breath out of me. Somebody understood. Finally.

He dropped his hand from my face and sighed. “It was my uncle again. He hit me.”

It was probably the worst time; it wasn’t needed at all. But tears blurred my vision and started running down my face. “Oh, Jonah…”

“I don’t even know why. I didn’t even do anything. I didn’t.” He glanced up at me. “Don’t cry, Destiny,” he said softly.

“I don’t want him to hurt you,” I said, my voice shaky.

He sighed again. “Please don’t cry, Dessy. Don’t cry.”

I ducked my head, wiping the tears away with the hand that wasn’t holding Jonah’s. “I’m sorry. I’ll stop. Just give me a second.” I let out another shaky breath.

Then I felt his hand grip my chin and lift it up to look at him. Through slightly blurry eyes, I took in his dark hair, tan skin, grey eyes. He looked so broken, but so beautiful. He dropped his hand from my chin and let out a small breath. The heat from his breath hit my face, warming it. I leaned forward ever so slightly. I stopped when I was only an inch away from his face, looking up into his eyes. His gaze was so intense, burning into me.

“Destiny,” he whispered. “don’t cry for me.” His breath hit my lips, and I parted them slightly.

“Jonah…” I leaned forward a little more, sinking my lips into his. A little jolt went through me. We stayed like that for a moment, not moving, simply holding hands with our lips touching. And then he moved his mouth against mine gently. I pulled away for a second, looking up into his eyes, and then back at his lips. Leaning forward, I kissed him again, savoring everything about the moment.

We didn’t move too quickly. We kept it sweet and slow, linked together through our hands.