Crumbling Walls (Jack and Emily #1) (31 page)

Chapter 26

School went much better than she expected. She had kept up with the homework and, even with her left hand, was able to take readable notes and get through her exams with time to spare.

She and Jack also sneaked moments whenever possible, usually in the art room or in the back hall by the band room. Jack lived for these minutes because there wasn’t much other reason to go to school at this point. He studied, he did the homework, he tried to pay attention in class, but running on about two hours of sleep a night was a rather sufficient killer to his memory and his attention-span.

He took the tests and, confident he knew the information when he walked in the door, found himself unable to answer anything in-depth. He could squeak by with the multiple choice, but short answer and essays were killing him. Since the teachers knew what had happened, they allowed him leniency, but still, within six weeks or so, he was near failing everything.

He had no idea how to tell his parents what was wrong; he could barely look at them, let alone talk to them with this much guilt looming. So, he went to school under the pretense of learning, but really, he only lived for the times he had Emily close to him. These were the only times he could let the horrible feelings inside him go, because she was standing there, whole and perfect and alive and beautiful.

▪▪▪

Will watched him. Watched him get lost in thought, sitting over his plate at dinner staring at his pile of cooling mashed potatoes until Emily nudged him lightly on the arm. Watched him eat breakfast with shadowed eyes and his face free of any pillow marks, indicating he, yet again, didn't seem to have laid down the night before. Watched him trudge off to school, backpack heavy on his shoulders and Emily's hand firmly in his. Watched him do things that were out of the ordinary for his second son, but not for someone who had done something extraordinarily out of the ordinary.

Since the night he’d bought Jack home from the hospital and wound up holding his sobbing son on the bathroom floor, Will had been watching. Jack caught him more than once, to which he’d offer up a half-smile, “Geez, Dad, take a picture. It’d last longer.”

“Just wanted to know how you were doing? Looks like you haven’t slept much lately.”

His dark blue eyes flashed momentarily before settling back down, “Yeah, but I can manage.”

“Bad dreams?”

With a shrug, he gave the answer he assumed his dad wanted to hear, “Some, but I’m fine. I come down and watch TV for awhile and end up falling asleep on the couch.” Then, mustering up what he thought was a full-on, happy Jack grin, “But what I could really go for is a vacation. Got any of those lying around?”

“Jack.”

“Dad, I’m fine. I’m tired, but I’m fine. School is school and work is work and I need to eat more vegetables and clean my room and write term papers and buy some new shoes and go to the movies and bake hundreds of cookies. I’m a kid and I’m fine.”

Will accepted this for the moment, seeing a glimmer of his boy’s humor and deciding maybe he really did just need some time, “Okay, okay. Remember though, your mom and I need to know if you need anything, all right? Be it new shoes or somebody to scream at.”

Getting up and hugging Will tightly, Jack simply wished that everyone would leave him alone.

▪▪▪

Will gave it until mid-April and, seeing that Jack didn’t look much worse for wear but definitely did not look better, moved to his second source of information. Finding Tim alone was easier than he'd expected. One day, in the garage, Will watched Jack pedal out of the driveway on his way to work then turned to Tim, “Do you have a minute?”

Continuing his digging for a screwdriver in one of the various toolboxes, “I've got about two hours worth of them. What's up?”

“How's Jack doing?”

Tim banged his head on the table he was under and stood up rubbing the back of his skull, “What do you mean?”

With a raised eyebrow, he saw through Tim easily, “You know exactly what I mean and by the way you smacked your head down there, I’d say you are sitting on information I want and you think I shouldn't get.”

“Dad ...”

“What happened?”

“Nothing big, okay? He just … he got into it with some guy a couple days ago, but it never went beyond some yelling in the hall. Nobody got into trouble and it was over before it started.”

“Tim …”

“I’m keeping an eye on him.” Leaning against the fender of the van, “Look, he's Jack. Everything always works out for him, haven't you figured that out by now?” With a shake of his head, “He'll come out smelling better than the fucking rose parade. He just has to slog through a few piles of shit to get there.”

Will wanted to call his son out for swearing but mostly he just hoped Tim was right.

▪▪▪

Elizabeth took a different approach, coming up behind Jack one night while he sat at the kitchen table, homework spread out and eyes unblinking. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she surveyed the work in front of him then kissed him lightly on the cheek, whispering into his ear, “Mama always loves Jack. Don’t forget that, okay?”

He came so close to crumbling at those words that when he opened his mouth, a barely coherent, “I won’t,” met her ears.

She waited another minute, but when he stayed quiet, she squeezed him, “You’ll be fine, I promise,” then continued upstairs to bed.

▪▪▪

Emily didn’t wake up when the footsteps passed her door, she’d never fallen asleep, given the look that Jack had on his face when she’d said good-night. He’d been laying on his bed, his earphones firmly jammed in his ears and his iPod resting on his chest. He only opened his eyes when he felt her sit down on the edge of the bed, “Hey you.”

“Hey.”

Lying in silence, he continued to look at her until she reached up, tracing once again the now healed scar on his chin, “You were awfully quiet tonight.”

With a shrug, “Just tired.”

“Real tired or leave me alone tired?”

Kissing her newly de-casted fingertips, “Real tired. Too much homework, not enough time.”

Knowing full well he hadn’t cracked one of his books or even opened his backpack, “Jack …”

“God, I’m just tired.” He let go of her hand swiftly, “I just need some sleep, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“Well, um, I’ll go then.” Getting up, she moved towards the door, “G’night.”

Hearing him rolling over, he didn’t call goodnight back and she went quietly to her room, wishing he would just tell someone what was wrong or she would have to.

▪▪▪

When his footsteps passed by around one in the morning, she gave him a good 20 minutes before following. Creeping down the stairs, she found him curled on the couch, staring at the Weather Channel. Without looking, “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

She took that as an invitation to sit down, “You didn’t. I was already up.”

Finally looking at her, his eyes glassy, “Why?”

“I’m worried about you.” Pulling her legs up and tucking her feet under Jack’s thigh, “You need to talk to somebody. You can’t keep doing this.”

“What? It’s just a little insomnia.”

“It’s May now, Jack. A ‘little’ insomnia shouldn’t last two months. Trust me.” He looked at her sharply and she continued, “I’ve been hearing you from the beginning. At first I just figured somebody had a really overactive bladder and I would fall back to sleep, but then I noticed no one ever came back.”

Tossing the remote down suddenly, he stood, his face glowing in the flicker of the TV, she could see the anger, “I’m fine. I just wish everyone would shut up and trust me. I’ll work it out. I just need a way to work it out.” With that, he brushed past her, leaving her to stare at the international weather maps, completely dumbfounded.

Tim came into the living room, rubbing his head, making the hair stand on end, “Em?”

Turning towards him, “Did we wake you up? I’m sorry.”

He sat down next to her, yawning, “I just heard talking. Was Jack down here with you or have you gone schizophrenic on us?”

Normally, she would have smiled, but not tonight, “Yeah, um, I seem to have said the wrong thing to him.”

“Pissed him off?”

Nodding, "Pretty much.”

“What’d you say?” Not answering, she just stared forward until she felt Tim’s hand on her arm, patting her gently, “he’ll be fine in the morning.”

Without thought, she scooted over a little and rested her head on his shoulder, “I don’t think he will.”

Deciding to be honest with her, “Actually, I don't think he will be, either. He hasn't slept in awhile, has he?”

Emily knew late-night honesty should flow in both directions, “Not really. I hear him coming down about one or so. I usually leave him alone and hope he falls asleep on the couch but,” shrugging, “I'm pretty sure he stays up until just before Will comes down.”

“Do you think we should tell Mom and Dad? I mean, I think this messed him up way more than any of us realizes.”

“Or he realizes and just doesn't want to admit it.”

“Well, we are a stubborn bunch.”

“No kidding.”

Not sure if he should continue, he bit the bullet, “Um, both Mom and Dad have asked me how he's doing. I haven't really said anything though, just told them I'd keep an eye out.” Sighing and absently leaning his head against hers, “Some of the teachers are wondering, too.”

“I haven't heard anything.”

Tim chuckled through his nose, patting her knee again in amusement, “Like they'd ever ask the girlfriend. Besides, I don't think anyone wants to pile anything else on you.” Leaving his hand there, he raised a finger in the air, “But it occurs to me that I never asked how you're doing? I mean, granted, that asshole is dead and gone now but still, it's not like you had a great last day with him.”

Not sure how she felt with Tim's continued invasion of her space, she pushed it to the back of her mind, realizing she was invading his just as much with her head on his shoulder, “I'm doing a lot better than Jack. I still have my share of nightmares, but they're nothing like they could be. I think going down to the morgue and seeing him there helped a lot.”

“You went down to the morgue? Are you kidding me? How did that not freak you out more?”

“Like I told Elizabeth, last time I didn't check to make sure he was dead. This time I had to. And since then, I've been pretty okay.”

“You're a lot damn braver than me.” Propping his legs on the coffee table and sliding down into the couch, he moved his elbow forward, letting his hand dangle from the end of her bent knee, “So, should we just keep a good eye on Jack and go from there or do we have an intervention of A&E style proportions?”

She'd been asking herself this same question over and over for the last month, “He didn't turn me in when he found out about me, when he realized I was alone. I just … something tells me I need to push him about it, but I don't think I can. I think I'm gonna have to wait and see what happens.”

Tim finished the thought, “Unless we realize we haven't got that choice anymore.”

“Exactly.”

“I agree.” Picking up the remote with his other hand, “Feel like watching bad TV for a little while with me?” Feeling her nod against him, “Cool.”

After about 20 minutes, she heard Tim snore lightly and, sitting up, she shook his shoulder, “Tim, go to bed.”

Opening his eyes immediately, he shut them just as fast, “Huh?”

“Go to bed.”

Without further argument, he stood and stumbled his way to his room, leaving Emily to turn the TV off before she headed upstairs. Fighting the urge to go to Jack’s room, she instead crawled under her own covers and turned on her side, hoping sleep would come quickly.