short stories

please. (pt. 2)

A year later

POV: James

James walks into the cemetery, his shoulders sunken and his eyes red. The whole ride here, he couldn't help but feel angry and ashamed at himself for not telling Jax. Jax. A year ago, James would be leaving his house to go to work, leaving Jax home by himself. To this day, James still beats himself up over the fact he didn't tell Jax his true identity and his role. 

As James looks at the graves, snow begins to fall, making it harder for him to see the names on the stones. In frustration, James stomps his boot onto the snow covered grass. When he begins to feel better, he picks his head back up and begins to scan the stones, hoping to find Jax's name. 

After twenty more minutes of this, James spots Jax's grave. At the very end of the third row, right next to the trees and the gate, lies a tiny stone with the name Jax Weir. Overwhelmed with emotions, James drags his limp body to the stone and kneels on the cold, wet grass. 

"Jax." James moans. "Jax. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." James begins to choke on his words, so he turns away to wipe his tears. As he reopens his eyes, he sees a shadowy figure in a dark coat next to him. Startled, James whips out his hands from his pockets and gets into fight or flight stance. 

The person isn't startled, but instead, peers at James with a hint of curiosity. The person, whom James assumes is a male, stares at James, then at Jax. He's six feet tall and relatively slim, but couldn't be more than 30 years old. Around Jax's age, James thinks to himself. 

"Who are you?" James says, a hint of alarm still in his voice.

"Jackie. And you?" Jackie asks. 

"Never mind that. Why are you here?" James says, suspicion rising in his voice.

Jackie responds, "to visit an old friend of mine. It's been one year since his car accident. Jax Weir." It takes James a while to remember that he was the one that came up with that lame excuse of Jax's death. A car accident while driving. Bullshit, Jax was the most attentive person he knew. 

"Okay. I'm here for-" James looks at the grave next to Jax's. "Elizabeth Dean. What a coincidence the graves are next to each other." James begins to 'fake' mourn for this Elizabeth's death. In reality, he's actually keeping a close watch on Jackie. 

POV: East

East kneels at Jax's grave, fully aware that James is staring him down with so much intensity that he could burn a hole through his jacket. 

East bows three times and closes his eyes, reminiscing the past. 

The first time East talked to Jax was during second period Spanish. East's friends and him were giving shit to Jax, picking on his clothes, the ones that East later found out were Jax's only clean pair. East's friend David had jokingly pushed at Jax's shoulder, trying to see the dust fly off his poorly sewn jacket. 

"Look at this shit, it's disgusting!" David motioned for Easts to come forward, waiting for him to pick on Jax as well. 

"I wouldn't exit my house if I looked like this." Easts had laughed. At this time, Jax had stood up, his ears burning pink, his fists clenched. 

"Please, leave me alone!" Jax had yelled. This startled East and his friends, whom had never had a victim of their teasing call them out on their bullshit. At the time, East's friends had simply moved back to their seats, even more determined to tease and bully Jax. 

However, that was the first time East had felt guilty, pained that he had teased a guy that clearly couldn't decide or choose what he wore. During lunch that day, East had privately stalked Jax as he was walking into the bathroom.