I stretched my legs out in front of me before crossing them at the ankle. I looked up and scanned the room, not being able to help the faint smile that found my lips, and ignored the bizarre looks I got from his Aunt. I shook my head as she looked away from me.
I knew how morbid it was to be smiling at my boyfriend's funeral, but I couldn't seem to help it, this was too much. More than half of his home was filled with kids from school, kids that didn't even know him, let alone care. They just wanted the attention, and maybe a half day from guidance because of stress. None of them knew him, they barely even knew his last name. There was a distinct line though, where his family and few friends sat with each other and on the other side the people from school looking uncomfortable while chatting among each other.
Not only would Jason be right alongside of me, pointing out the fakers, but he would have dreaded this, everyone mourning him and crying. He was all about living life, being happy, and doing what you had to do, no matter what. Of course, I shed my fair share of tears, but I just knew how much this wasn't what Jason wanted, but his Mom planned everything, and I didn't get a say.
Even this justification could not stop me from thinking about something he had said months ago. Since the funeral announcement was in the paper, declaring whoever wanted to go from the school was welcome, I stayed awake every other night thinking of the promise I was breaking.
It was just about four months ago, when the news of Jennifer Bradley's pregnancy was discovered. Walking the hallways from class to class, it was hard to not hear people talking about it, whether it was good or bad. You either heard that she was a slut, and didn't know the father, or you saw people sympathizing for her, acting as if they knew all the dirty details, when all they heard was what someone told them.
"God, this is a joke." Jason mumbled as our fingers were intertwined and he walked me to English III. "None of these kids even know Jennifer and yet they act like they've been best friends since diapers. I mean, maybe they're right about it because I don't know her, but that's exactly it. I don't know her, so I'm not going to run my mouth." He let out a sigh, obviously annoyed at the school's population.
"I know, Jay. But they're teenagers; they thrive on this kind of crap." Our walking slowed as we reached my classroom door and we pulled to the side so my fellow classmates could still get in without us being inconvenient.
"Just promise me something, Abby?" He looked down at me, staring until I responded. I wasn't big on promises, always afraid I would break them. However, there was something about his stare. Something about his blue eyes piercing into my own as kids wandered into various classrooms in the hall. As if he knew something was about to happen that I couldn't control. It was intense and I might have said anything at that moment just so he would stop.
"Of course, Jason, anything you need." I agreed and waited to hear what he needed. My heart was pounding as the silenced lingered, him still not quiet telling me what this pledge was.
"If something crazy happens in my life, ever, don't let people talk about me like they know me. Smack someone if you have to." I let out a small laugh while nodding my head, grateful he was back to normal. After giving him a kiss good-bye, I didn't think twice of his promise while settling into my desk and wondering if I had forgotten homework for the class or not.
My smile disappeared as his Mother walked up to me. Her dark brown hair was in tight curls as her lips were smeared in dark red lipstick, a shade that looked like the one I might have gotten her for her birthday a few months back. She was a taller woman; even then, Jason still towered over her. With her thin frame, she could easily have been a model in her younger years had she not gotten pregnant at seventeen. Her heels were noisy on the wooden floor as she got closer. Click-clack, click-clack.
"Hello sweetie. How are you holding up?" I stood up as she asked this, and hugged her back as she pulled me in. It was just like her, to care more about other people's feelings then her own. If she had gotten into a car accident that wasn't her fault, I would guarantee she would ask the other person how they were before she even thought about herself. It was in her nature being amorous, perhaps it came with having to stop caring about what you want at such an early age.
"I am fine Mrs. Harrison, how are you doing?" I was careful with my words, not wanting to say something that might trigger more tears.
"I'm hanging in there. I just wanted to let you know to never be a stranger. Just because Jason isn't tying you into the family, still feel free to stop by." I nodded my head in agreement.
"Of course Linda, you were practically my second family." She smiled softly and said goodbye before leaving into the crowd. I looked past her walking figure and concentrated on the pictures that were all around the room, my favorite one taken a few months back.
It was in the middle of summer, just a few months ago, right before we left for our weekend long road trip; he was leaning against his mother's jeep liberty and grinning happily. His tall frame covered in a pair of basketball shorts and a plain white shirt. He held his blue baseball hat firmly in his hands as earlier his brother kept trying to steal it from his head. That weekend was my favorite part of summer and I could only wish my camera didn't break so I could have documented it more.
We had spent our whole Friday driving down to the coast and spent the majority of the night on the beach, building sand castles and running to our knees in the water before running back out, making a competition of who could go the furthest before getting out. We would eat at random diners, Jason had made a rule of no chain restaurants long before that trip, and sleep in the back of his moms jeep with the seats down and covered it with whatever blankets we could grab from our homes before we left.
We had parked it in a parking lot next to the beach so when we had woken up all we saw was the ocean stretching out as far as our eyes could see and the sun beginning to peak out of it. I remember looking over at him in the middle of it only to find him looking at me.
"Jay, the view is that way," my words came out soft as I had just woken up and didn't want to disturb the moment.
"I would disagree, my view is much better."
I forced the tears at the brim of my eyes to stop and instead of sitting back down I walked across the room and stood next to my parents, who were quietly standing off to the side not looking like they were even talking among themselves. My mom gave me your typical sad smile as I stood in the empty space between them.
"You okay, sweetie?" My mom asked as she placed her hand on my shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. Once she let go I felt my dad rub my back softly and told me it would be okay. I sighed and nodded, not having much to say. I love my parents, I really do, but it seemed close to impossible to talk to them about my feelings or really anything of importance, because I had always had Jason around to talk to instead.
But even with that, sometimes being around people who you knew loved you unconditionally gives you a sense of comfort, a feeling like everything will be okay as long as you still have them to run too when it feels like you don't have anyone else.
And I guess that was my life now, I didn't have anybody but two parents who didn't know much about my life. I had no boyfriend to comfort me, no friends, I was completely alone in the world and the realization of it, right in the middle of my boyfriend's funeral, hit me so hard it almost knocked the wind out of me. I knew if I didn't get out soon I was going to cry, and I was never one for public crying no matter the situation, but crying in a room filled with your classmates just causes more conversations about you and I definitely didn't need any more reasons for them to be talking.
"I'm just going to step outside for a minute, get some fresh air or something, in case you're wondering where I am." My voice came out practically a whisper as I strained to keep the quiver from my words and begged the tears not to fall. I didn't wait for their response before walking away and heading for the front door.
I couldn't stand being there any longer, having everyone stare at me, and wondering if I was okay. I wouldn't be the girl that completely broke down because her boyfriend had been hit by a car. I would be strong, independent, just like Jason would have wanted me to stay, even if it was just a show for everyone else.
While heading towards the door, I couldn't help but stop briefly as I listened to Ashley Dobell sob on Mike Falcon's shoulder. "I just can't believe he's gone, Mike!" She flung her arms around Mike and let more tears go.
I rolled my eyes at the pettiness of some people, like Jason would have associated with the meanest, and what she considered, most popular girl in school, and continued on my way. That was only one more reason for me to get out of there as fast as I possibly could. I was relieved once I was down the stairs of his front porch and on the side of his house. I took a deep breath and leaned on the brick wall, glancing at my parents' car, thankful when I noticed it wasn't blocked in so when I wanted to leave we could just slip through the front door and be gone instead of hunting down the owners of the vehicles, or even worse, waiting for them to leave first.
As soon as I rested my head back and closed my eyes, everything came rushing back to me, all of the chaos, the blood mixed with all of the bruises and everyone panicking. I opened my eyes and found that I had dropped to my knees, and was now sobbing uncontrollably on the ground. It was all so sudden, so surreal. My boyfriend was dead, he was never coming back. I would never be able to see his face again, kiss him, touch him, and tell him all my problems. I could have just lost the love of my life, and all I cared about were people not deserving to be there.
I didn't stop sobbing until I heard the door squeak open, a few footsteps, and a familiar face kneeling down to me. I took in a few deep breathes, not wanting any sympathy from the person before me. Once I wiped away my tears, I stood up, my new found guest still looking concerned. I sniffled a little before they opened their mouth.
"Are you okay?" He asked tilting his head to the side and mashing his brows together. I stared at the ground and nodded my head. "Are you sure?" I sighed deeply before nodding again.
"I am absolutely fine, Stephen, thank you." I told him before he nodded as well and placed his cigarette between his lips. I watched carefully as he flicked his lighter and placed the flame on the tip, the paper started to disintegrate and the tobacco burned.
Stephen was Jason's best friend, since as long as I knew them. In elementary school you always saw them following each other on the playground, in middle school if you saw one of them getting a detention you knew the other one would soon follow just so their friend wasn't alone, and at the beginning of freshman year you could always count on them walking into homeroom late together while the teacher gave them a disapproving look. They were best friends, partners in crime, and two peas in a pod, practically more like brothers. That is, until I showed up.
I knew the boys my whole life, but it wasn't until half way through our freshman year in high school they both started to be friendly with me. I don't even know how it happened, one day they were just the two slackers in my grade who I was sure didn't even know my name, and then all of a sudden they were trying to sit with me at lunch, asking if I needed someone to walk home with or if I wanted to stop at the gas station for ninety nine cent slushies'. Even more shocking was when Jason had asked me to go to the spring fling dance with him, an event I had never seen him go to before but there he was, asking me to go with him as his date.
Ever since that night, where he walked me home and kissed me under my porch light, we were the ones that were inseparable and Stephen had become just another friend of his who we would say hi to at parties or run into at the mall. I knew it wasn't right, maybe if I got a redo I would have told Jason to make time for friends, and I would have done the same for myself, because as I stood there now, in front of the boy who I was sure hated me for taking away his best friend, I realized how friendless I really was. How the few I did have before him seemed to casually drop off my radar as my whole life had revolved around spending my time with Jason.
"It's a little crowded in there." Stephen mentioned, taking another drag from his smoke. I nodded my head and watched the ashes fall to the ground. "I can't believe Linda actually wanted all these kids here. Jay hated most of them." My small smile returned as I agreed.
"I know. I didn't have the heart to tell her." He let out a small chuckle before we both stood there, neither saying a word, but enjoying the silence. I had heard too much talking that day to want to hear anymore, so I was grateful.
Once he threw his cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, burying it in with the dirt, he started to speak again.
"It's so weird, ya know? Like, we didn't hang out much near the end, but, fuck." He muttered, at a loss for words. I flinched at first, knowing I was the reason for their lack of friendship, but then nodded quickly in agreement, because I knew the feeling he was trying to talk about, but it seemed to be indescribable.
Maybe it was the feeling of loss, loneliness, abandonment. Feelings that didn't make any sense because you knew it wasn't his fault, you knew he didn't choose to get hit by a car. No, had Jason actually got a choice in how he went, it would have been something much more extreme and in-your-face, not being blind-sided but a eighty-four year old women who forgot to wear her glasses that day.
"At least you have other people." I said softly, and he didn't object, but I felt it necessary to make myself clearer. "You have John and Taylor. I ignored everyone who wanted to be a part of my life because I didn't need anyone but him, now I have no one."
There was a pause, Stephen letting the words sink in.
"I'm sorry Abigail, I really am. Jason wasn't good enough for you to neglect all other people, I just feel sorry that you didn't realize that soon enough." After he told me this, he turned and walked away, not back inside, but towards the streets where everyone had parked. I was too baffled to have time to retaliate.
Once he was completely out of eye sight all the things I wanted to shout at him made their way into my brain, how it wasn't fair to say nasty things about someone who wasn't there to defend themselves let alone too dead to fight back; how Stephen must have literally known nothing of Jason to think he wasn't good enough for me, he had done everything he could do for me and more, he was my best friend, my person. It had made me so angry to hear Stephen say such a lie that I wanted to go after him, hunt him down, and make him apologize for being such a jerk.
Instead, I shook my head and stormed inside. My only thought was how Stephen was jealous I had taken his best friend and was taking his anger out on me.Later that night, when I had finally been able to crawl into my bed with the comfort of my pajamas on, I couldn't help but think of the day as a whole, and dwelling on the scene with Stephen. It's funny, I had thought when he first walked out of the house asking if I was okay, that maybe we would turn into friends, being the only people in the world to truly know the deceased might bring us together, but how wrong I was. Stephen clearly wanted to stay in the past and not move out of it, to put it in the simplest of terms, boys were dumb.
I turned on my side and brought the blanket up to my chin while letting my fan blast its cold air on my face. I could practically hear my mother's words, "why is that thing on? It is far too cold to still have that thing running. You're going to get sick," it was the same thing she told me every time she heard it going. It was easier to just ignore her than tell her the truth, feeling too cold was better than feeling the numbness I was constantly feeling since getting the news.
I hadn't told my mom anything since Jason and I met. I hadn't told her about going to get my belly button pierced, how I was failing a class, how I skipped a job interview I got because Jason wanted to catch a movie instead, when I lost my virginity, when I had accidentally backed into a pole at school, or even when I got a detention. The list was endless. It was like all my mother and father knew about me was my name and age, everything else they were clueless too.
But recently there was this one thing that I wanted to tell her, to tell anyone that would listen but it was so horrific I knew I had to keep it to myself and bottle it up, even if that meant feeling terrible my whole life, then so be it. It was my secret that I knew I had to take to my grave, that even if I was close with my mom she still would never know about it.
It was my fault Jason was dead.
Maybe it wasn't as dramatic as it sounded, I mean I wasn't the one who hit him nor did I send that old lady to gun him down with her car, but earlier that day we had gotten into a fight over the phone, a really bad one. For the life of me I couldn't even remember what started it, or why I was being so stubborn and so mean, but when he kept calling and calling I refused to answer the phone, figuring if he cared enough he would find his way over to my house to apologize, even if I knew his car was currently in the shop for a tune up.
But unfortunately it wasn't just our fight that was causing this guilt and sickening regret, it was my last words to him, the last words I know he heard from me and not the ones I prayed he heard while I sat next to his bed side in the hospital as he lay unconscious. No, those would have been terrific things to hear from your girlfriend as her last words, not the ones that actually happened.
While I tried to fall asleep, they echoed in my brain relentlessly as they did every night since the accident.
"Leave me alone Jason, and stop calling me. You're the worst boyfriend ever, drop dead."
YOU ARE READING
Wash You Away
Teen FictionWhen you're seventeen years old nothing seems worse than high school, unless you're Abigail Somers, whose boyfriend passes away at the beginning of their senior year. Now high school was nothing to her but a massive reminder of her bitter loneliness...