Jayson

Chapter 3

As often as I could for the next two months of summer, I'd sneak away to the park when my mother was working and  spend time with Jayson, Kimm, and the others.  My sister was becoming a little backstabber, always threatening to ruin my adventures by telling my mom.  Sometimes Jesse would take the group out for ice cream, often times buying one extra treat for me to take home to my sister so she'd keep quiet.  Other times, we'd hang out at somebody's house, usually the twin's in Hinsdale or Kimm's in Bolingbrook.  It always amazed me that they lived so far apart, but managed to see each other everyday.  My family rarely saw our relatives twice a year and they only lived in Chicago, an hour away from our small, dreary little town.

By the end of summer vacation, I'd found five great new friends.  Somehow, I knew that no matter what, they were going to be there for me. They always helped make everything better.  In my mind, I was thrilled with the thoughts of how lucky I must be to have such loving people in my life. In my heart I was aching for the same type of love in my own home; in my own family, but I knew it'd never come.

A week before I was set to start sixth grade, Jayson asked me to be "his girl".  I excitedly told him yes, not knowing that from that day on my life was going to change forever. 

Throughout the school year, I didn't really see much of Jayson, but we saw each other as often as possible until the cold weather and rain made it unbearable to walk to the park.  I knew that I'd have to find a way around that eventually, but for the time being, I had no choice but to go along with it.

I started writing Jayson and Kimm notes and leaving them in the mailbox or underneath a rock near the back door .  Jesse would check to see if my mom was around, and if there was no car, he'd snatch up the notes and run; otherwise, he'd come from the back and peel them from the dirty earth beneath a large rock by the back door. I loved him for that.

Dear Jayson,

I just want you to know how much I miss you. You are such an important person in my life.  At school my days seem to drag forever, until my mind explodes with thoughts of you.  My teachers think I'm hopeless; I can never get anything right .  I don't know why; I really like school a lot.  I just can't focus.  I'm so unhappy all the time.  You know my dad still never came to bring my birthday present, but the other day Savannah got hers.  I try not to be jealous and hateful of her, but everyone acts like she's so special and I'm a nobody.  How come I'm the one that's always forgotten ?  How come I'm the one that's difficult  and unlovable and stupid?  I miss you Jayson.  I really truly miss you.

Haven 9/25 xoxo

Before I left for school that day, I left my letter under the rock in the backyard because I knew my mother wouldn't be working until much later.  I wasn't sure how much longer Jayson would stay around knowing that we could never do anything normal together.  The letter's were just not enough, I knew that, and since that was the only way for me to communicate with Jayson other than the few times I could sneak in a phone call or two when no one was looking or paying attention to me, I just knew Jayson would give up on me sooner or later. Fortunately, Jayson didn't seem to mind the "note game" either way; he seemed to enjoy the challenge.

I resisted telling my sister about Jayson and me since I had the knowledge to know that with her my words would reach my mother eventually; but I did tell a few friends at school - the few that I had anyway. Besides the fact that I was poor and unpopular, my mother's overprotectiveness and reluctance to let me ever really do anything made it hard to have many friends at all.  I wasn't pretty like all the other girls at school and I spent many days staring at their beautiful long hair only to go home and stand in the mirror wishing that my dry, brittle hair would one day become miraculously beautiful as well.  I'd spend hours wishing for the newest Hollister jeans and shirts instead of the worn out, last years cool hand me downs from my mother's friend's daughters.  Who was I?  How could something so miserable as myself be anybody worth caring about?

I began to really dislike school.  I always felt like the idiot or the butt of everyone's jokes.  I was failing my classes terribly; I couldn't focus no matter how hard I tried.  While the teachers were giving their lessons, I was writing woe is me poetry or thinking about the unfortunate state of my existence. My english class was the only class I ever paid attention in.  Maybe because the teacher was the only one who didn't think I was hopeless.  He knew that the talent was there long before I did.  But it was Jayson who I thought about the most and who gave me the desire to write.

One day when I was feeling extremely depressed , I ran to the park in tears.  My life was a complete disgrace, I thought.  When I turned the corner and saw Jayson and the others laughing in the grass, I ran, ran as fast as my little legs could take me until I was in his arms, safe. 

"Jayson!" I cried with relief.

""Hey," he said, lifting my chin with his gentle hands.  I tried to resist; I was embarrassed to let him see me crying like a big baby.  He knelt down and looked into my eyes, wiping a tear from my cheek.  "What's the matter, hun?"

"Nothing," I lied.

"Haven, something is wrong.  People don't just go around crying for nothing."

"I know..."

"So what is it?  Did something happen at home?"

"No, but they sure don't help," I muttered pathetically.  "They make me feel just as stupid and unimportant."

"Is it me?" He whispered concerned.   

I sighed.  "It's stupid really."

"Please tell me."

I didn't respond.  It was pointless anyway and I felt like Jayson wouldn't want  to keep listening to my complaints.  It seemed so easy for people  to stop caring about me and I didn't want to make him the next one to leave me. The thought of this made me feel even worse and the tears began falling again.

Suddenly he grinned.  "Come on, we're going to my house."  He took my hand and led me on a sort of lengthy walk to his house.  When we got there, no one was around other than Jesse who was sitting on the couch watching television.  He looked up when we entered the room and waved.

"Hey girl, how's it goin'?" He paused for a minute as I sat across the room.  His face darkened with concern and he sat up.  "What's going on?"  He looked from Jayson to me and back to Jayson. "You didn't have a fight didja?"

"Nah," Jayson answered digging around in the drawer of the coffee table.  Then obviously still concerned, he sat next to me on the floor and handed me a pencil and a sheet of paper.  "Here," he began, "write exactly what you feel.  Don't leave anything out.  And make it a poem...I like your poems."

I wrote:

Another day, feeling sad

Nobody loves me, not even my dad.

Nobody around to show me they care...

But I just want someone to actually be there...

Why do people assume I am nothing but bad?

Why can't I have the love I wish I had?

Why is my heart forever in pain?

Why are my words always taken in vain?

Why am I scared of loving you?

Maybe I'm afraid you'll hurt me too.

"You love me?" Jayson asked in shocked surprise.

"I don't know, I just wrote what I feel.  Is that love?"

"I don't know.  I've never been in love before, Haven."  He reached for my hand.

That little moment was all it took.  When I got home I went straight to my room  and wrote as many poems as I could think of.  I couldn't wait to share them with Jayson and my English teacher who continued to enjoy my writing.