The UnNameables

Chapter 4

            Just before dinner that evening, Freya and Jamie went their separate ways. In his room, Jamie locked the door behind him and plopped down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the day were swimming around in his head, and he couldn't make sense of any of them. He could hardly believe any of them. The only thing that he truly knew was Freya. And at that moment, that's all that really seemed to matter.

Sitting up, Jamie pulled himself off the bed and sat down at the small, wooden desk underneath the window. He found a crumpled napkin in the trash and a pen in one of the drawers. It had been a long time since he's written a poem. After his mom's incarceration, there didn't seem to be anything to write about. Then he'd met Freya.

Taking a deep breath, he smoothed down the napkin and began to write.

Freya left the cabin to go to dinner. She noticed Jamie a few feet in front of her and debated catching up to him and walking with him. Just then, something fell out of his back pocket, and Freya bent to pick it up. It was a crumpled napkin with writing all over it. She smoothed it out and found the beginning of what Jamie had written:

Golden

More than a color

More than wealth

It's in her eyes -

In the way she isn't afraid

of being herself

I hardly know who I am

I get lost in my thoughts

When she becomes golden

It's there

underneath the facade

beneath the mystery of her stare

She hides it well – it's hard to see

But I can hear it when she talks to me

She wants to be free from the hell of her past -

from the scars that she wears

But that's not what I see

More than a color

More than wealth

All I know is that when I'm with her

I become golden myself

Freya stared at the poem for a minute before looking up once again at Jamie's retreating figure. He wrote this? It was really sappy and she considered crumpling it up and tossing it back on the ground, but she couldn't, somehow. An unexpected smile crossed her face and she quickly told herself to stop it. Freya folded the napkin and stuffed it in her pocket.

Dinner was uneventful, and Freya kept looking at Jamie weirdly from across the cafeteria. His blond head was bend over his tray the whole time, and he never looked up once. There was not much conversation, and Freya was fine with that. Her emotions were all over the place, and she didn't think she could carry a conversation. Dinner was over quickly and Freya booked it back to the cabin. On her way out, Jamie happened to glance up and catch sight of her golden hair before she disappeared.