Chapter Four
I swatted at my nose lightly, brows creased and snuggled down into my pillow. Stupid flies. It brushed against me again and I growled, swatting.
I heard a low snort. My eyes shot open. The first thing I saw was Laynie on the couch with her red tendrils in disarray, she looked just as grumpy as I did.
She looked behind me and just as I turned around Jonah came crashing down onto the mattress with me with a smile the size of Texas plastered on his face. “Good morning.” He says happily.
I growl and bury my head in his chest. “Why do you wake up early?” I groan.
“I was just so excited to see you guys that I couldn’t help but come here extra early.”
“What’s extra early?” I mumble against his chest. He smells like laundry soap and cologne, clean.
He buried his face against my hair and spoke. “Six thirty.” He laughed. His breath was warm against me.
“What?” I growl.
“You heard me. Wake up! Time for breakfast!”
Laynie and I looked at each other for a moment and then shrugged. “You’re buying.” We told Jonah together.
We went to the grocery store deli for breakfast, which was a terrible idea since there wasn’t a single thing remotely close to breakfast material. Jonah sat down with a large plate of macaroni and chicken strips. Laynie and I had both grabbed mini sandwiches back in the cold meat section of the store. I sipped at my chocolate milk sluggishly.
“You guys are such early birds.” He laughed. As much as I tried to be mad at him for waking us up so early, I melted when I saw him smile.
Laynie and I were still clad in our pajamas. My hair was still in shambles, falling in feathery wisps around my head. I had on a pair of boxer shorts, sandals and a tank top. Laynie was wearing the same thing, except she had rubber rain boots on. And then there was Jonah, with a tight fitting gray v-neck on and jeans. His hair was lying nicely against his head and he grinned happily as he bit into a piece of chicken.
Laynie winced a little as he tore the chicken with his teeth. “Must you be a carnivore?” she asked him.
Laynie was a vegetarian and has been since sixth grade or so. I ate my sandwich in silence, hoping not to let her hear me tear into the pieces of ham. With that, Jonah grabbed the meat that Laynie had picked off of her sandwich and popped it into his mouth.
Laynie grabbed a fork and poised it to stab his hand. They battled then, Jonah fighting back with a spoon.
“Okay. I’m going to go grab the car and pull around.” Laynie said. She picked up the keys and threw her garbage in the trash, leaving Jonah and I at the table.
I coughed. Laynie never did that kind of thing!
“So, Tide.” Jonah kicked me under the table lightly.
“Yes, Jonah?” I sighed, acting uninterested.
“Hannah is in New York for four days.”
“Oh, boy.” I said. “She isn’t going to ground you again tomorrow is she?”
“Well, here’s what’s happening. I don’t want her to have a bad trip, I’d rather she have a good time in New York, but…” he paused and looked at me. His eyes changed from their usual light blue green to a darker blue as his gaze dropped down to the table for a moment to gather his words.
I sat quietly, waiting for what he was going to say. The organs in my stomach knotted and twisted. I wished that I hadn’t eaten anything, I felt like I was going to be sick I was so nervous.
“I broke up with her this morning. It was a suckish way to do it, since I called her. But I couldn’t let that go on anymore. I just… can’t deal with her trying to control who I hang out with and how I act, who I am. And her telling me that I can’t hang out with you sort of broke the last straw. I don’t know what you think about… our relationship. But no matter how we are together, I can’t be told to stay away from you, especially since we haven’t seen each other in almost a year.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. Does he think that I think we have a different relationship than what we have? Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I don’t know whether to be worried or happy.
The Chum Buggy rolled up next to the deli and we picked up our things and left. Jonah picked up my things from the table and threw it in the trash.
“Thanks by the way.” He said to me.
“For what?” I asked.
“For eating without me yelling at you,” he laughed.
I rolled my eyes and glared for a second.
It hadn’t been the same case the last time I had seen him. Laynie and Jonah forced food down my throat as often as they could, sometimes going to such an extreme that they’d stop by my house while my family ate dinner, just to make sure that I wasn’t throwing scraps under the table for the dog, or spitting things out into my napkin.
It wasn’t that I had some sort of eating disorder, I just didn’t have the strength to eat anymore. I felt sick all the time and all I wanted to do was sleep.
“Shot gun!” I yelled once the door closed behind me.
“Too bad! It’s mine!” Jonah yelled back and we raced to the passenger side door. We slammed into each other and raced to get our hands around the handle.
Laynie was in the driver’s seat, looking totally amused.
Jonah bumped me over with his hips and I gasped. I lunged at him, jumping on his back and wrapping my arms around his neck. He swirled around, trying to get me down.
“Okay, stop stop.” He laughed. I could see his face getting red as we both began to laugh uncontrollably. I got off his back while he struggled to gain composure. He continued to laugh with tears streaming down his face.
I opened the door with a loud laugh.
Jonah took his seat in the backseat behind me and bugged me the entire way back to Laynie’s.
When we pulled into the driveway, Jonah and I unbuckled and got out of The Chum Buggy. Laynie sat in her place, with the car still running.
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked her.
“I have a band lesson.” She smiled. “The Hoff wants us to be ready for next year, so we’ve having practice year round.”
My jaw dropped. She was going to leave me here alone with Jonah? I didn’t know what I was going to say yet! I was still wrapping my head around the whole thing.
“I actually have two lessons.” She added. “The first one is half an hour, the second is an hour. So I’ll be back around… ten or eleven.” She concluded and then drove off with the biggest smile on her face.
“Um. I have a feeling she set this up.” Jonah said as she drove away. He scratched his head.
“Same here.” I say, almost breathless.
“Well. Let’s go practice?” he suggests.
I nod, unsure of how else to respond.
“Where do you want to practice?” he asks when we take our shoes off in the mudroom. We stood in the kitchen, Jonah next to the sink, me next to the door across from him.
“We usually practice downstairs. I think Laynie’s sister is still upstairs, she got home late last night. So our options are down stairs or the garage.”
“Well where’s the kit at?” he asked, referring to his drum kit that we had long ago moved to Laynie’s for practices.
“Downstairs, I believe.” I tell him.
“Okay. Downstairs it is.” He beams and then opens the door to go downstairs.
I follow him down, trying to remember how to work my feet, which is pretty difficult with all things considered.
“Whoa.” He stops at the base of the stairs and I almost tumble into him. “Where do I go?”
I laugh and pass him on the stairs, once again trying to mind my feet. I led him into the back room where Laynie and I had had practice before.
“This is cozy,” he laughed and sat himself down behind his drum set. I sat down in a rickety old chair across the room. He picked up the drum sticks and I laughed loudly.
“You remember that time where we fought over those in the garage?” I asked him.
He smiled. “Yes. You went nuts! You were playing when I walked into the garage and it didn’t bother me at all but then Bryce started freaking out because I nearly killed him when I caught him playing them and he thought it was only fair that I tried to kill you.” Jonah laughed.
“Why was that anyway? Bryce told me about it. He’s actually a lot more responsible than me too.” I added.
“Well, Bryce is Bryce. We give each other a hard time naturally. And you’re Tide.”
“And that makes a difference how?” I asked.
“I don’t know really. I haven’t figured it out. But anyway, you almost choked me with my own drum stick!” he changed the subject.
I rolled my eyes. “That was after you tried ripping my arm off!”
“No, it was before. I’m sure of it. And I didn’t try to rip your arm off, that’s just what it looked like.” He tried to say seriously but ended up just laughing at himself.
“Okay, I totally don’t believe you, but how about we practice?” I laughed.
Jonah stomped down on the bass pedal in a steady rhythm. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four. He added in the snare and the toms, the high hat. He alternated between hitting the snare full on and hitting it on its side. I closed my eyes, trying to take it in, to feel the rhythm, let it fill me. Jonah played for a long time, slowing down and speeding up as he pleased. He kept his eyes on me the whole time. When he finished he smiled.
“I haven’t played in a long time.” He panted.
“Why not?” I asked him.
He rolled his eyes. “Hannah didn’t think it was a good idea for me to focus on this kind of music. She’s big into choir and thought that I was better suited for that kind of stuff.”
“Well, are you? Better suited for that kind of stuff, I mean?
“Sometimes I am. I mean, you know the kind of music I like. I could listen to Straight No Chaser all day and never get tired of it. And I love choir because I’m good at it. But sometimes I just need to burn off more energy. It takes so much effort to remember which notes to sing when I’m practicing for a performance or something, but when it’s just in the garage… it’s effortless. I don’t have to focus. I can just go, and not stop until I feel like my hands are numb.” He laughed a little at himself, stretching his arms out to motion to his current condition. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his shoulders rocked as he breathed.
I nodded. Was I always at a loss for words with Jonah? Yes, in fact, most of the time I was.
“Well, now that I’ve showed you my mad skills. How about you show me one of those songs that you have in your sketch book.”
I blushed. “You do not want to hear any of those. They’re not very good.”
“I call bullshit!” Jonah glowered at me.
“Fine. Which one?”
I threw Jonah my sketchbook, which I had left down here when Laynie and I had last had practice.
“This one.” He said. “Russian Roulette slash the Jonah Song.”
“Why that one?” I yelped. Why did I even write the title? I silently yelled at myself.
“I don’t know. It looks interesting. And I think after you sing it you should explain to me how this song about someone killing themselves can relate to me in any way.” He looked at me curiously for a second.
So, I sang the song because Jonah asked me to. The beginning, like most of my songs, started off relatively soft. Slow and easy to keep count with. I tapped my hand on my legs, swaying my foot as I kept track of the time. The chorus broke through, my high notes surprising even myself since I could rarely hit it right. When I willed the song to be sad, my voice quavered, and when it picked up, I was strong.
This song was my anthem, my pledge to Jonah, even though I still wasn’t quite sure what it meant to him, or if it meant anything at all.
He listened intently and every time my voice shook his face took on a serene, pleading tone. I could almost feel his heart squeeze inside his chest.
I gently worked my way through the song, holding each note perfectly before I released it and moved on. I closed my eyes and put my hand to my throat. I wasn’t sure why I always did that, but it felt like every time I did, my notes would strengthen. It was like I could feel the power that my words had as I sang.
The song ended much lighter than it began as the mood shifted from being mournful to understanding.
I opened my eyes then, and wiped away the tears that had fallen. I smiled, feeling a little embarrassed but okay overall.
Jonah sat in silence, his hands on his knees looked like they wanted to move, but he stayed himself where he was.
Jonah continued to not say anything.
“I wrote that a few weeks back. I couldn’t sleep and the first verse popped into my head. When I finished it, I read it over and it reminded me of you.” I spoke softly, my voice barely audible. “It reminded me of how many times you told me that the things that I do… the things that I had wanted to do… I could never take them back. When I wrote that was when I realized that I can forget about him… I’ll forget about everything he’s ever done to me, because all of those things are things that happen to people all the time. People get their hearts broken. People get used. But I could never forgive myself if I left you here.” I choked a little.
Jonah knew exactly what I meant. He knew that when I meant leave, I meant to really leave. Not the city, not the state, or even the country. But the world. I knew that it burned him deep down in his chest, the same spot that it scorched me.
Jonah picked himself up off of the drum stool and made his way across the room to me. He sat down on the floor in front of me and took my hands like I had taken his when I had first told him of my fears in the garage. He held my hands in his. I looked so fragile against him. My hands were white as porcelain, long fingers, short nails. I had a callous on the back of my ring finger on my right hand from the long hours of writing. Jonah’s hands were rough and strong. It was like he was built of earth, strong and warm, chiseled from the mountains themselves.
He pressed my hands to his forehead, begging me just as I had begged him. I could either lend him my strength or crush him where he kneeled. I curled my fingers in his hair and lowered my head to take in the scent of his hair, breathe him in. His breath came choked and unsure and I knew he was keeping himself from falling apart. He remembered, just as I did, how many times he had saved my life. How many times he had saved me from myself.
I held him against me, his arms draped lightly around my waste, his head resting on my legs.
I pictured the little bit of strength that I had flowing into him where our skin touched, my fingers on his arms, on his back. I rubbed in every ounce of strength I had, massaging it into his pores until it sunk into him.
“Why can’t it always be like this? Why were we so far apart for so long?” he said softly, his voice gruff and pained.
I had to smile down at him. I ruffled up his blonde hair, smoothed my lips through it. “Because if it were like this all the time, and if we were always side by side, we would have nothing to work towards or look forward to.”
I felt Jonah smile against my leg. And then for the slightest of moments, I felt our strength collide, spurring the smallest of explosions within us both.
