Chapter Twenty Three
The rest of Christmas day was awkward to say the least. I arrived back at the house way before Jack did, and I casually announced to everyone that Jack and I had had an argument and that we were broken up. I assured them that we would act civil, and then promptly went up to my room.
There, I found my present for him already opened. Great, so he had opened it and then just left it here. Although I had just done the same thing, but I had a reason to be mad at him and he didn’t have one to be angry with me. I reached absently into the little bag for my razor, only to find it missing. I searched the inside of the box that had formerly contained the scrapbook, but it wasn’t there either. I kicked the book across the room and went downstairs to open presents.
I suffered through dinner, just waiting for Christmas to be over. Jack and I sat the farthest away possible, and he hadn’t looked up from his plate this entire time. I on the other hand, made light conversation and actually paid attention to what was going on around me. I was surrounded by people I loved on Christmas day, what more could I ask for ? I decided to stop being so bitter and just enjoy the day. I noticed Jack wasn’t eating much, for obvious reasons. Apparently Joyce noticed too, because she called him out on it “Jack honey, you’ve hardly touched your food.” He finally looked up, avoiding my gaze purposely “Yea, I uh, don’t feel well. Can I be excused ?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he just shoved his chair out and ran upstairs. My own mom gave me a look that said “Go follow him,” so I reluctantly did the same.
When I arrived upstairs, I was greeted by the sound of purging coming from my bathroom. I opened the door to find Jack crouched over my toilet violently retching. He turned to me “Get the hell out of here !” I scoffed, “It’s my fucking bathroom ! My fucking room, AND my fucking house !” He stood up, towering over me by a couple inches. “Get out Alex, I mean it.” I stepped closer and got in his face “Who do you think you are ?” He placed his hands on my chest and shoved me backward, and I raised my fist and punched him straight in the face.
We didn’t speak again after that.
In fact, Jack and I haven’t spoken in months.
Today is March third, the start of a new trimester in school. Jack moved out of my locker into Zack’s, and Rian moved out of Zack’s into mine. Rian and Zack were still together (they made it official on Christmas. Oh, the irony.), but we all didn’t hang out together anymore. Not like I even care.
Of course with this new trimester, I have two classes with Jack AGAIN. I remember back when I first thought that heaven had given us classes together- now it was hell.
That night, I sat playing my guitar into the early morning. Around one o’clock, I finally looked up from my guitar, exhausted. A weird light coming through my window caught my attention. I stood up and looked out, but I still didn’t understand what it was. My curiosity got the better of me, and I crept downstairs to find out. I tiptoed out the front door and onto the porch, scanning the street for the source of the light. I didn’t have to look for long, because bright orange, flickering flames were practically staring me in the face. Reality set in- they were coming from Jack’s house.
The Barakat house was on fire.
I didn’t think, I just ran. Unlike any sane person, I didn’t run away from the danger- I ran straight toward it. My survival instincts went into overdrive as I approached the house, my adrenaline pumping. Somehow I had to get into the house and save the lives of people who were practically family. My only tools were myself, and I was wearing boxers, pajama pants, and nothing else. There was no time to call 911, every second counted.
1….2….3
I busted through the front door, and Joyce was the first person I saw. She lay passed out on the floor (I’m assuming from smoke inhalation), with her arms outstretched toward the door. I picked her up and carried her out, setting her on the lawn and hauling ass back inside. “Bassam ?! Jack ?!” I heard a muffled noise that sounded a lot like Mr. Barakat, so I moved toward it. The thick gray smoke was filling the house quickly, burning my throat and stinging my eyes. It was nearly impossible to see, and if I didn’t know the house so well, I wouldn’t have been able to navigate at all. I hopped over a patch of flames, heading toward the voice. It was indeed Jack’s dad, struggling up the stairs. He collapsed in a coughing fit, and I grabbed his arm. “Mr. Barakat, you need to get out ! Right now ! Joyce is already outside, I already got her. Listen to me !” He turned toward me, squinting, “Alex ?” He coughed violently. “I need to get my son ! Jack needs my help !” Time was wasting, I couldn’t be arguing with him. “Mr. Barakat, I will get Jack, I PROMISE. But you need to get out of the house, now !” I directed him toward the bottom of the stairwell, and he stumbled down it, coughing the whole way. “Save my son !” was the last I heard from him.
I struggled to climb the stairs, now coughing as well. My lungs felt like they were falling apart, but the only thing on my mind was Jack. I was going to save him, or die trying. I couldn’t let the last thing I said to him be “I hate you.”
“Jacky !” I screeched desperately, my lungs protesting. I finally made it up the stairs and crawled toward his bedroom, where his screams filled my ears. “Heeeeelp ! Help me ! Somebody help me ! Dad ! Dad ?!” I threw my body weight against the door, unable to answer Jack’s calls. My throat felt like it was closing up, but I still pressed on. The door splintered open and I toppled into the room I hadn’t been inside in months. I found Jack immediately, hovered in the corner and crouched into the floor. “Jacky.” I croaked, a cry of acknowledgement. He whimpered and crawled over to me, collapsing as soon as he reached me. Clutched in his hand was the bracelet he had made me.
I pulled him into my arms and stumbled toward the doorway. I stopped short, flames were engulfing the stairway. I made a quick decision, and hoisted Jack higher so that the flames wouldn’t touch him. I started descending the stairs, howling in agony as the flames reached my bare feet. I heard an alarming crack, and I realized the stairwell was about to collapse. I set Jack down and shoved him toward the bottom of the steps, watching as he rolled down and into the living room, shouting for me.
A crunch and a thud later, and the whole stairwell was coming down, taking me with it.
I hit the floor hard, debris and flames enveloping me as the smoke took over my lungs. The last thing that I saw was a white piece of paper flutter down and land on top of me, right on my chest. It was Jack’s note to me, containing his last ‘I love you.’
