H A U N T E D

t w e n t y - n i n e

t w e n t y - n i n e

My heavy feet crunch against the broken leaves of the forest floor, while Jack holds my hand to steady me. Slowly, the school building grows larger, but the grounds seem to be much emptier than when we left. The rain has ceased for the moment, but once in a while, a droplet will roll off a leaf from one of the tree tops, and land on the tip of my nose, or rolls down the valley of my neck.

"It smells so sweet right now", Jack piques up, and lifts his chin up higher to inhale the fresh air of Homer. I follow his actions, and the only fragrance that seems to prevail all other smells, is the scent of wet, muddy ground and pine trees, smells that aren't necessarily sweet. I have never really understood why it must rain in the winter, it's such a paradox to me.

"I mean, it smells good, like the Earth is reborn?", I try to agree with Jack, but the waver in my voice tips off that I don't. Jack laughs and shakes his head, the wetness of the air bouncing off his curls and landing on his shoulders.

"No, you wouldn't smell it, Blonde. I'm talking about you, of course."

Inquisitively, my one eyebrow raises as I subconsciously wonder if he's trying to subtly tell me that I smell bad.

"Uh, thanks?"

Jack rolls his eyes, as if annoyed by my mundane human senses.

"Silly girl, I'm talking about your blood. It smells sweet, mixed with the rain."

Oh! Well, now I feel stupid. I hang my head down, burying my chin in the thickness of my worn jacket.

"What do I smell like?", I ask with sudden curiosity, a feeling that seems to have become quite prevalent these past few weeks. Jack stops for a moment in his step, raising his chin in thought, and contemplating how to phrase his response.

"If I can overall describe it...it's like the first flowers of spring, mixed with vanilla. That's how we all agreed on, when we first smelled you."

'We all' must be his family. Knowing that I am probably a subject in the household, it doesn't surprise me.

"Is that a good thing?"

Jack groans with frustration, a low sound that rumbles in his chest and bubbles through his mouth.  

"You have no idea. You're no blood singer, but that day we sat next to each other in French and you pinned your hair up. I was so annoyed. It's like you seeing hot chocolate and not being allowed to drink it!", Jack exasperates and chuckles in memory, knowing how much I like hot chocolate. I flinch at the comparison, because I do like hot chocolate and not being allowed to drink it, would make me cranky.

"Why didn't you just like, you know, suck me dry like a Capri-Sun? Wait no, I would've been mad", I say the latter as an afterthought. Jack laughs once again, a sound that is similar to the waves crashing on the beach early in the morning, before anyone else is awake and you just become tranquil listening to it. 

"If we want to live as ambiguous and irrelevant as we do now, the best route would be to not kill our friends", he says slowly, emphasizing each word, with wide eyes that seem to remind me that murder isn't socially acceptable. I make an 'oh' sound and nod, agreeing with him.

We finally enter the back gate of the school grounds, near our tree, and Jack waits for me to first enter and then follows. I dig my phone out of my pocket, and click on the home screen button. In bright white digital letters, it shows that it's nearly five in the afternoon. It scares me at times, how fast times flies when I'm with Jack. Although, for someone who lives an eternity, it most likely doesn't matter, but for a human whose days are counted and limited, it worries me. Some day, I'll grow old and Jack will forever be nineteen, and the wisdom and pain in his eyes will have grown and wrinkled into the deep golden crevices of his irises.