The Beat Of His Drums

Chapter 9

Jack: ...hey, Siren?

Me: yeah? Wassup?

Jack: I think it's time to talk about what happened in middle school...you have a right to know. I shouldn't keep it from you...

Me: well it's about fucking time!

Jack: ...

Me: sorry...

Jack: it's ok...just...meet me at the park, in half an hour?

Me: ok. Sounds good.

I rolled out of bed, and threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and a baggy The Browning t-shirt. A tight knot grew in my stomach with every passing second. I threw my hair into a messy bun, and didn't bother with my make-up. I slipped my keys into my baggy pocket, and my phone into the other pocket. I looked out side to see the sky growing dark. "Great...it's supposed to snow today...fuck my life man." I growled to myself, grabbing an old hoodie from my closet and swinging it over my sholders. I ran down the stairs, grabbing a fresh homemade chocolate chip waffle off the plate that was sitting on the counter. I took a bite out of it as I swung the door open. It slammed shut behind me as I inhaled the crisp cool air. It should be starting to get warmer in a couple weeks, thank the lord I don't believe in. I can't wait until winter's end.

As I neared the the park, I felt more and more like I was going to regurgitate my waffle. I, all of a sudden, don't want to know what happened in the past. I don't think my stomach could handle the truth, whatever it may be.

That's when I saw Jack. His hood was up, and he was facing the foutain. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him. When I approached him, I noticed his hands in his pockets and he was looking up at the sky. "It's supposed to snow today." He said calmly. "I know. But to be honest, I wish it was spring already." A small smile forced its way onto his lips. "Same. But the snow is beautiful." I sat down next to him, "agreed." I replied. "Is it bad I don't know where to start?" He asked. I looked at him, but he still stared at the dark, morning sky, "how about the beginning." He chuckled, "that's a lot of explaining to do." I smiled and nodded. "Stereotypical asian three o'clock." He looked over in that direction, to see an asian man in a snazy suit, holding a brief case. The man checked his pocket watch. Shortly after, a bus pulled up and he got on it. We both chuckled to ourselves. "You know, my great, great, great, great, great... great grandmother was asian." I laughed, "that's a long way down the line." He smiled and looked back up at the sky, "yepp." Shortly after, snow flurries started to flutter down gently. As flakes kissed his face, I couldn't help but to picture him as an angel. He was so beautiful. "Well it started out in sixth grade," he began, ripping me from my train of thought, "we had social studies together. Mr. Weasly sat us next to each other. That's how I first met you. You made a joke about his name that day. You said 'I bet he's the reincarnation of Fred Weasley. George would be so happy to see his brother again.' I gave you a confused look, and you said 'I'm guessing you haven't read the books.' I told you I only read the first two books, but I watched all the movies. Then you laughed at me and said I haven't watched all the movies, because Deathly Hollows hasn't come out yet. I said that made sense. Ever since then, we were so close. I even began to fall in love with you. That's when things spiraled out of control. It was the summer before eighth grade, we were walking around town together. A car was speeding and you didn't see it. I pushed you out of the way, and I was able to save myself as well, but I ended up suffering scrapes on my back and sholder, and a concusion. You too ended up with a concusion, more severe than mine. As a matter of fact, you hit your head on the sidewalk so hard, you lost a year and a half worth of memory. A majority of the memory gone was me. We were taken into the hospital, and were treated. When you came to, I was in your room and you asked me who I was. The doctor told me what happened. He said he wasn't sure if your memory would return, but I shouldn't force it on you. He told me to leave you alone for a while, and hope your memory would return. But it never did. As a result we never talked again. And every minute that rolled by, was more wretched than the last. I was depressed for so long. But now you are back in my life, and I can feel the depression slowly retracting. I can finally be happy again."

As I listened to his story, I felt devistated, but not really having an excuse as to why. It hurt me to know he lost someone in his life who was so important to him. I never imagined I would be the kind of person to have that kind of affect on someone. But why can't I remember. I feel so aweful for not remembering. I hate that.

I grabbed his hand, "well I guess we'll just have to recollect those memories. And make new ones as we go." I smiled at him. He looked at me, at first with shock, then relief. He kissed me on the cheek, "thank you...Siren."

A/n:
Ok so I actually believe this is my first author's note for this book. I know it's a little short compared to the rest, but I really wanted it to be all about Siren finally figuring out what happened that bothered Jack so much. So now she knows and so do you. Yayy! I really enjoyed writting this chapter and I'll see you in the next! Don't forget to comment and vote, peace out.✌😘

Ps- don't mind my spelling and grammmar mistakes.