The Run~Volume 3 ©2016 Sydney Wray

~34~

"Aren't you nervous?"

I folded a t shirt and slipped it into the black duffel on my bed. I looked over my shoulder at Jackson, who sat on his bed with an unsure look on his face. "To graduate and get to college? Nope."

"Are you going to," He paused, and I heard his slight intake of breath, "I don't know, come back to visit?"

I stopped what I was doing then, turning and walking towards him. His eyes followed me until I took a seat, throwing a smirk at him, "How else are going to have some excitement in this house?"

He broke a smile, laughing. "True."

"And who knows," I stood, crossing back over the room to return to packing, "maybe you'll get someone even better than me." I grabbed another T Shirt, folding and placing it in the bag.

"Slim chance."

"Zero chance." I corrected him.

He laughed.

"But really," I packed my last item of clothing, zipping the bag closed and turning to face him, "are you going to be alright here?"

He didn't respond right away, seeming to blink in contemplation to my question.

I sighed. "I just know that...this," I motioned around us, directing my point to the foster house, "is pretty rough sometimes. I only got through it with Andy's help."

He made a surprised face at the mention of Andy, which is when I realized it was the first vocal mention of her since that day.

Jackson looked deep in thought, as if caught in a web of what to say or what not to say.

"It's okay," I softy urged, "You can tell me. I'm most likely going to know what you're feeling."

So he did. He told me how he wanted parents, and how he wanted to be the kid at school who was embarrassed by his over protective mother. Or how he wanted a dad to yell at soccer games and tell him to move his feet. How, for once, wanted to feel wanted.

"When you came," He started, fidgeting with his hands and refusing to meet my eyes, "I felt , for the first time in my life, wanted by someone for making them laugh or something. I don't know."

I nodded. "I get it."

He looked up, surprised that someone understood what he was saying. I was sure he never had confided in anyone, and I was even more sure that they wouldn't have understood the way I did.

"Yeah?"

I nodded, taking a small breath. "I don't think I've ever given it much thought until now, actually." I paused a managed a small chuckle. "I was a huge handful for whoever was taking care of me." I thought about Miss and the creation of Yellow Cards. Right when I was thinking of feeling bad for the trouble I put her through, I was quickly reminded of the enormous secret she kept from me. "I was too young to understand what was happening, and it made me a pretty angry kid."

"Could people tell you were angry?" He shifted on his bed, moving to the ground and leaning forward.

I shook my head. "Not at all. I don't even think Andy knew. And honestly," I thought, "I don't even think I knew myself."

"So how did you cope?"

"Well," I paused, remembering the countless pranks, "I pulled pranks all the time so it would distract me. Which is bad." I added, not wanting him to follow suit.

"And that's why you were sent here?"

I nodded.

"You can get through this. Even though I was a brat, I turned out just fine."

"Well.." He trailed off, exploding in laughter when I punched his arm. "No, I'm kidding. You're awesome."

I watched him, knowing he had more to say. "Spit it out."

"How are you doing with the whole Andy thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." he trailed off. "What really happened that day? I mean, something had to have happened to make you so mad."

Thinking about how she betrayed me didn't bring me as much anger as I thought. Was this a sign of my moving on? "She betrayed me."

"How?" He asked out of boyish curiosity. His wide blue eyes blinked at me, and I figured there'd be no harm in telling him.

So I did. Right from meeting her, skipping the sex with Andy and casual spiteful hookups with random girls, and up until the big reveal at the  adoption party.

He listened, nodding when my rhetorical questions were searching for confirmation, and sat in silence after I finished. 

"What?" I pressed, kneeing he had something to say. When did he not?

"I just think..." he trailed off, letting his head  fall slightly to the side.

"Yes?" I said, impatient.

He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Where's the letter?"

"In a book."

"Okay," he said, "but where is the book?"

"Over there." I nonchalantly motioned behind me. "Why?"

"Read it again." He started to stand.

"That's your golden advice?" I asked sarcastically. "I've already read it."

He was standing now, reaching for the door. "Judging by your story, I think you should read the letter again."

I watched him let himself out the room, leaving me to my thoughts. I looked over to the medium sized book, placed snuggly under my bed and between school binders. I shook my head in an attempt to rid the thought from my mind. 

College was a fresh start. My future. Andy was my past, where she was being left.