Crash Into Me (Into Me Series Book One)

Chapter Thirty Seven - Everywhere and Nowhere

Jet's POV

In another universe, one much kinder than ours, I am in my childhood bedroom, the window open, a warm summer breeze drifting across my skin as the sound of crickets and cicadas lulls me off to sleep. I am safe. I am warm. I am carefree. I am 10 years old. Nothing bad has happened to me, yet.

In another universe, one much kinder than ours, my mom and I walk hand in hand through the park. She laughs at a terrible joke I learned from my best friend at school. I ask her to push me higher on the swings, feeling like my feet could touch the tip of the universe. My father never started drinking. My mother never abandoned me with her death. I am happy. Nothing bad has happened to me, yet.

In another universe, one much kinder than ours, Jackson's arms wrap around me, our laughter filling the air as he spins us around. He sets me down on my feet and I turn to face him. We smile at each other before pressing our lips together. Our hearts beat in sync inside of our chests that are pushed together. He tells me how much he loves me. He keeps me protected in his arms. Bad things have happened to me, but he put me back together and taught me to love again.

In another universe, one much kinder than ours, I wear a white dress. Sandy links her arm with mine and brushes away the tears in her eyes. She tells me how proud she is of me. Someone opens the doors to reveal the aisle, Jackson waiting at the end of it. I can't stop the smile that grows on my face as Jackson turns away briefly, Connor patting his back. Sandy and I walk slowly down the aisle together as Jackson stares at me in awe. Caroline takes my bouquet from me as I link hands with Jackson at the altar. "I love you so fucking much," fumbles from his lips as the officiant welcomes our friends and loved ones. Bad things have happened to me, but he put me back together and taught me to love again.

In another universe, one much kinder than ours, I watch as the nurse hands Jackson a small, crying bundle. Our daughter. He breaks down into tears of joy as she quiets once she feels his arms. He climbs into the hospital bed with me, leaning into me as he holds our daughter in between our bodies. Jackson kisses my forehead over and over again, his tears falling onto my cheeks. "Thank you," he murmurs, over and over again as I watch him fall more and more in love with her right before my eyes. Bad things have happened to me, but he put me back together and taught me to love again.

A little boy with curly brown hair sprints up to me, a wide smile on his face. I know him instantly. It's Micah. He yells my name and jumps up into my arms as we laugh and I swing him around. He hugs me tightly, shoving his small face into my neck like he did the night he died. "My death is not your fault and never will be. You're the only thing that made me feel okay while I was dying. I'm sorry that my Daddy shot you. He doesn't understand it like we do. But I don't blame you. I'm just happy you were there to help me go." I pull back from him, tears streaming down my face, but mind my arms are empty.

The fuck?

Where am I?

"You're everywhere and nowhere, all at once," a comforting voice tells me.
"Sandy?!" I whip my head around, trying to find her. I see her a few yards away from me, a bright smile on her face.
"Hi, honeybun!" she says, opening her arms.

I sprint into her open arms as happiness overtakes me. She smells just like she always did, designer perfume and laundry soap. My cries break free and I can't stop them as tears flow down my face like rivers. Sandy reaches her hands up to my face, one landing on either side, wiping my tears away with her thumbs.

"Why are you crying, sweetie?" she wonders.
"I've missed you so fucking much," I tell her, my voice breaking.
"I know you have," she assures, nodding. Her pale blue eyes are focused on me, her thin blonde hair is done up in her signature pin curls, her blouse is pressed, not a single wrinkle in sight, per usual.
"I'm so sorry," I cry. Tears turn to sobs.
"Why are you sorry, honey?" she asks me, her brows furrowing.
"I didn't make it to your funeral, after everything you did for me," I hiccup, swallowing down my next sob.
"You didn't make it to my funeral because the pain was too much and you wanted to remember me the way I was when you needed me the most. The last time you visited me, I didn't remember who you were. I remembered how hard you sobbed as you kept saying, 'Sandy, it's me, it's Jet, it's your honeybun,' but I couldn't remember you. A kind of betrayal that you have only felt when your mother died when you were four resurfaced and you didn't know how to handle it. So you didn't visit me. That's okay. I wanted you to remember the good," she explains.
"But I wasn't there to say goodbye," I croak. I still beat myself up over that daily.
"No, but I was there while you were lying on your apartment floor with that finished bottle of Tylenol in your hand. I was there, grabbing Caroline, making her come and save you from yourself."
"W- what?"