A year to remember

12. Jake

I woke early the next morning, blinking in the morning sunshine as it filtered into the room. For a moment, I forgot where I was, then the memory of last night came back. I glanced over at the naked body beside me. The sun hit her dark hair, which threw tones of gold in the sunshine. I could feel her smooth legs wrapped together with mine.

I had felt a pull towards her from the beginning and I wondered if that was partly because of the circumstances in which we had met, and my history with Emily. Even on that first night, when she was covered in dirt, her dress torn, her skin scraped and bleeding, and fear clouded her eyes, I wanted nothing more than to hold her close, to tell her everything would be okay. But I had maintained my distance, staying close enough only that she felt safe, not threatened. I had been afraid to touch her, especially when Emily had been so unwilling to ever be touched again. But still, I wanted to save Alyssa the way I could never save Emily.

I watched as Emily went through the motions, living through all of if again and again; the anger, the fear, the shame, the guilt, the grief, the loss. I lived in the aftermath of her pain with her. It wore on our relationship, driving a wedge of isolation between us. Part of her hated me purely for being male. She told me once that she resented the fact that I still wanted to have sex, even though I had never said as much or given her any indication of that. She said deep down she knew I would want it and that she could never give it to me again. I accepted that, and I tried to be a supportive boyfriend for her. I knew better than to take her anger personally. I reassured her, I listened to her and I stood by her for months, all at the expense of my own happiness.

I couldn't do it again. I couldn't get involved with another girl, not when mum needed me this year. When we moved here, I told myself that my only focus would be spending time with my family and trying to get through my final year of high school. But then I met Alyssa, almost immediately, and I knew I couldn't abandon her. I knew all too well the emotions she would go through, the loneliness and despair she would be feeling. The guilt and the shame, even though she had done nothing wrong. She needed me.

Somehow, last night, things had turned out the opposite of what I had expected. Where Emily couldn't bear the thought of being touched after she was attacked, Alyssa had craved it. I had been so careful not to initiate touch, even when I was so drawn to her. I didn't want to do anything to startle her. But she wanted touch, she yearned for it. Even so, I was hesitant. I told her I couldn't commit to anything, and I desperately hoped she didn't ask why, because I didn't feel ready to explain it all yet. As it turned out, she didn't want anything from me either, other than my body. So I let her use me, I didn't object. If I was being honest, it was nice to feel wanted again after months of being told not to touch the one I loved.

I climbed out of bed and dressed, checking my phone. It was flat. I hoped mum hadn't tried to call me. I said I would be home later that night, I had intended to drive. Mum had told me to go and have fun. She had physically pushed me out the door and shut it behind me. She wanted me to make good memories, but I just wanted to make more with her while I still could.

I woke Alyssa gently, to tell her I was leaving, but she just sighed and rolled over, so I left. I didn't really know how one-night-stands were meant to work, or if you could call it that when you slept with your closest friend in a foreign country. Either way, I would call her later and check she was okay. I quickly made my way downstairs and towards the front door. I stepped over a few sleeping teenagers, Jared among them, passed out on the couch. He was missing his shirt and one shoe. I was sure he would be nursing one hell of a hangover today. 

I made it home in under ten minutes, and there was mum, singing slightly off-key as she cooked pancakes in the kitchen. I watched her for a second, as she moved around the kitchen with ease and grace, lost in her own world. Looking at her, you would never guess that she was sick, except for the slight yellow tinge to her eyes; the constant reminder that our time was limited.

"Honey, did you just get in?" She asked surprised. "I thought you were upstairs sleeping. I was about to go and wake you for breakfast."

"Ah, yeah," I nodded, a little bashful. I walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. "Sorry, I got a little carried away last night and had a couple of drinks."

"Was the party fun?" She asked. 

I leaned against the bench and nodded. Fun was one way to put it. I watched as she poured me a coffee and pushed it into my hands. I accepted it gratefully. She looked happy today, so full of energy and life.

"Tell me all about it, Jakey."

"There's not much to tell." 

"Oh, I think there is," she smiled, a knowing look on her face. She looked like an excited teenager, wanting all the gossip. I glanced at my reflection in the window, I didn't see anything unusual.

"You smell like perfume," she laughed. "Tell me, who is she? What's her name? What's she like?"

"It's nothing serious," I tried to brush it off. I didn't have time for distractions this year.

"Humour me," mum persisted, the pancakes forgotten. I moved towards the stove top and flipped the pancakes before they burnt too badly.

"It's nothing, mum. She's just a friend."

Just then, dad entered the kitchen. His hair was still wet from the shower and he was clean shaven. 

"You look beautiful, my love." He said as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her gently. This was his morning ritual, to savour her hugs and kisses while he still could. I turned my attention back to the pancakes as tears stung my eyes. Dad hadn't accepted her decision to refuse chemotherapy lightly, but mum had decided that she didn't want to live a few extra months if it meant she would be sick and confined to a bed. She wanted to enjoy the outdoors, explore the surrounding areas and live her last few months with the two of us by her side, making memories and enjoying our time together. 'Quality over quantity', she had said, and with heavy hearts, we respected her choice. It had been a bitter pill to swallow.

"There's this beautiful mountain near here, maybe a forty minute drive away." Mum said as dad poured himself a coffee. "It has this stunning lake at the base of it and I thought we could go for a hike together and then maybe find a nice cafe and grab some lunch."

"Sounds great, mum."

"And maybe you can tell me about your friend," she added with a knowing smile. I rolled my eyes at her persistence.