Lovers

Ch. 23: ilomilo

ilomilo- Billie Eilish

"Told you not to worry, but maybe that's a lie. Honey, what's your hurry? Won't you stay inside? Remember not to get too close to stars. They're never gonna give you love like ours. Where did you go? I should know, but it's cold, and I don't wanna be lonely, so show me the way home. I can't lose another life. Hurry, I'm worried."

Jake POV

—

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing. My eyes crusted over by my tears from last night, and I have to have my free hand to rub away in order for my eyes to open fully. I sigh, trying to register what happened yesterday. In my arms, Dawn's still asleep, one leg over my left leg, curling into my side. Her grip is tight, afraid I'd go.

I miss her presence. The way she holds me together. It's as if she never left. The familiarity of her scent sends me to a place of what I can only place of nostalgia. Like what she mentioned the night before to ease my mind.

I shake my head, trying to rid of the memories, or I'd start breaking down once more. I turn on my phone and see 5 miss calls from Uncle Jeff. That's rare. Before I can think twice, he calls again. I try to move from my position, but Dawn doesn't budge. She's like a vise ready to hold tighter need be.

I hope she's still a heavy sleeper, "Hello?" I whisper.

"Jake, you're finally awake," he sighs out.

"What do you want? It's 9am," I double-check the time on my phone.

"Well, did you tell him yet?" I hear Gen's voice from a distance.

"No lady, simmer down." He lightly teases, "you're coming to the wedding, right?"

"Yeah..." I answer cautiously, looking down to check if Dawn is still sleeping.

"Gen wants you—"

"We want you!" Gen yells.

" We want you to ask Terry to come." He says, "I've left countless messages and texts, but he hasn't answered me."

"We aren't on speaking terms right now," I admit.

"Jake," he groans out, "you both will be the only blood-related family that will be coming to my wedding. You have to convince him, or a woman rhymed with sin is going to cut my balls off."

"Fin?" I respond coly.

"Gen."

"I know." I chuckle softly; Dawn stirs, bury her head into my neck deeper. Her breathing is still heavy, though.

"Will you please. Terry is my only blood left beside you, and it would also mean a lot to me if you both came on good terms, but just being present would be a good start."

"Fine. I'll call him right now," I groan.

"Thanks, kid. I'll see you tomorrow for dinner."

"I'll be heading to Pomona for some business. Next week for sure."

"Alright, thanks," he repeats.

I hang up and stare up at the ceiling. I don't know how badly this conversation will get with Terry, but I don't want to move from my position. Then again, I couldn't move even if I tried. Dawn's securing me to this spot. I dial Terry's phone, but I have a feeling he won't answer me. At least I can tell Jeff I tried.

"Come back to grovel?" Terry answers. I wish I heard his voicemail instead.

This comes to the lines of, "Hi, you've reached the hotter older brother Terry. I don't check my voicemails. So you're wasting your time."

"In your dreams." I sigh out, annoyed with this exchange already, "Uncle Jeff is getting married-"

"He's getting married?" He asks in disbelief.

"Yes, I told you this months ago."

"I'm just shocked they're still a thing. Is this girlfriend number 5?"

"Look, Gen is good to him. And they both want you to come to their wedding," I grit out. Dawn's thumb caresses my sides, and I'm getting the feeling she's waking up, but she pretends to still be asleep.

"Wow, great for her, but what has lazy ass Jeff done for me? Nothing. He left us when we needed him most. I had to practically raise you myself," he seethes.

"You did no raising," I spat, "I did everything!" I pause, trying to calm myself, shaking my head dismissively, I add, "There are times where we need to learn to forgive and forget. We're all adults now, you need to act like one."

"Me? I'm not the one who up and left!"

"This isn't even about that. I left for my own mental health, and if I were to fuck it up, you wouldn't be able to catch me if I fell." Terry stays silent. I take another deep breath, saying calmly, "He's the only family that we got on dad's side. Whatever vendetta you have against Uncle Jeff, please set it aside. You can't hate each other forever."

Terry groans but asks, "When is this dumb wedding anyway?"

"Next Saturday."

"Let me think about it, okay?" his tone much softer.

"Okay."

"Can I bring a plus one?"

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

"Okay then," he hangs up on me without another word.

I set my phone on my nightstand, sighing deeply. Though the conversation ended icily, I can't help but feel burned by Terry. If I had this type of mental breakdown back at home, would he be there to support me? No, I know he wouldn't, so I don't understand why he can't see that he can't help me.

"You're awake, aren't you?" I say.

"A little," Dawn murmurs against the nape of my neck. Her breathing turns normal, and she relaxes her muscles against me, "I didn't want to intrude."

"I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine. I've been half-awake anyway," Dawn unburies her face. Her eyes still masked with sleep, "I haven't been sleeping well lately."

"For how long?"

"A while. Since prom, actually." She admits. "But last night, after you fell asleep, I knocked out."

A long silence protrudes after, but the weight causes the guilt that preys my mind, "I'm sorry again about how I reacted. What am I to expect? And I just... I'm sorry that you had to drive all the way back down here."

"I was driving in the streets aimlessly before I started to drive back to the dorms, and then you called me. You weren't acting yourself, so I called Len, and well yeah... how're you feeling."

I look away from her, embarrassed, "I feel like trash, and I'm pathetic," I clear my throat, "what's new?"

"You're neither of those things."

"Yeah, what makes you say that," I glance at her, "Instead of using anger to solve my problems, I confronted them, and it... it almost killed me. How am I to do this every time I'm overwhelmed?"

"It'll get easier. This was the first time you did, and it spilled over, all the build-up of burying and burying, and then finally being able to confront how you really felt. Now you can start afresh and be able to do it again. I mean, I'm not a therapist, but it can't be worse than this."

"You practically are one at this point. How in the hell do you know so much?

"I've seen one since I was 12. I know a thing or two."

A realization hits me, "Please do not tell me you cleaned my throw-up."

"Well, then I would be lying," I look at her now, but only a shadow of a smile presses to her lips.

I facepalm myself, but not long after, she pulls my hand from my face, "Jake, it's you. Your throw up doesn't bother me."

"How romantic," I scoff sarcastically.

"Stop it," she lightly scolds.

"How am I going to live without you."

"I'm right here."