The Boy Who Knew Me When (From Boys to men Trilogy) (2 page)

 
We had all hoped country living would help my father in his venture to become of stable mind again but it failed miserably. After months of therapy and anti-psychotic medication my father’s mental abilities took a turn for the worse and my mother had him temporarily committed to the state hospital for treatment of schizophrenia with sociopathic tendencies, an illness he had been diagnosed with two years earlier.

 
My dad had been pretty normal up until the few months preceding my eight birthday. He was like most other dads, he worked hard, came home tired but still managed to fit in time for me and my brother Nicolai. The thing I loved the most about my dad was that he loved to sing and had a voice that could easily rival any operatic voice of today. He sang when he mowed the lawn, at church, in the shower and pretty much any other chance he had. The best part was when he sang us to sleep at night, always the same tune,
Pie Jesu’
. I was convinced that his voice was the fire that lit up every star in the night sky, it was truly magical. But that all changed the night Nicolai was taken from us.

 
Nicolai was twelve when he died; he had gone out of town for the weekend with his friend Julian and Julian’s parents. It was supposed to be a fun trip, Six Flags, water parks and sight-seeing. Howard and Victoria, Julian’s dad and mom, had taken the boys to Cowboy Billy’s for dinner, when the world came crashing down around them. 

 
A crazed man walked into the brightly-lit restaurant, started screaming at his ex-wife, then pulled a semi-automatic gun out of a bag and started shooting anyone and everyone in sight. In the end, none of them made it back. Nicolai took a bullet to the right side of his face and stomach, he was declared dead in the ambulance. Julian’s parents were both killed on scene and from what I remember, Julian had only a superficial gunshot to the leg.

 
We never saw him again; he was sent to Puerto Rico to live with his grandmother. The gunman, Ignacio Juan Hernandez took the coward’s way out of this world by putting a bullet in his own head.

 
When my parents were notified, my father took it the hardest. My mother, though heartbroken tried to be strong but even she had her moments of weakness. I was too young to understand much more than a very evil man had stolen my brother from me and he was never coming back. 

 
It took two months for my father to completely lose himself. We started seeing it a few days after the murder; he had locked himself in the attic for a full 24 hours. When he finally emerged he was barely recognizable. We would catch him talking to himself, which we later found was him talking to my dead brother. My dad eventually told us Nicolai would come to him, face bloodied, a giant hole in his stomach telling him how much he missed being with us. It was so terrifying that on occasion I could swear that I saw him too, just as plain as day.

 
Dad would often burst into flying rages, screaming at the top of his lungs, clearing counter tops, shelves and throwing anything and everything he could get his hands on. Even his speech changed, he cursed all the time and often sounded drunk and lethargic, even when perfectly sober. Eventually my mother had to send him away for treatment which was when the doctor, with the permission of my father, explained to us that my father was schizophrenic. They said it had probably been lying dormant inside of him his entire life. My brother’s murder had awoken it and without proper treatment it would destroy him.

 
We had hoped his 6 month stint away would make him better and in the beginning it did. He was regularly taking his medications and he no longer lashed out. He wasn’t the same as he had been before Nicolai was taken from us. For one thing, I never heard my father sing again. He had locked up his beautiful voice deep down inside of him. Anytime I asked for a song he would ignore me and pretend I wasn’t even in the room.

 
He stopped working, citing he couldn’t handle the responsibility, so my mother went back to teaching, something she had given up years before. They had mutually decided it would be more beneficial for her to stay home and be a full time mother than a mother to a room full of strangers. But she no longer had that choice; she had to take care of what was left of her family.

 
After a few months, it was decided that we would move away.     Not a single one of us could ever be happy living in a town where the incident was being shoved down our faces. We couldn’t go grocery shopping without someone walking up to us with an “I’m so sorry for your loss” or some other generic term of endearment.

 
Not to mention my brother’s room was still a constant reminder of his horrific end, every inch of the house rubbed his absence in our faces. My father had forbidden us from entering his bedroom; he told us we were not to ever even open the door. But one day I had wandered in wanting to feel some sort of connection with the boy I loved and lost. That was when I saw his A&M cap hanging on the footboard of his bed; he had loved that hat, so I took it. I had only wanted something he loved, something close to him that made me feel like he was still there. The hat smelled like him and I needed it, I didn‘t know why. But once dad saw me wearing it, giving me a look of what I can only describe as pure hatred, he ripped it off of my head taking a handful of my hair with him. The next day the door was padlocked with the hat safely inside.

 
Nobody had really considered my feelings in everything and who was I to say anything, I was only eight. Plus, I was too busy watching everyone else fall apart. I didn’t want to make things worse for fear I would lose my mother and father as well. So I stayed quiet and when not in school I spent most of the day in my room to stay out of the way.

 
When I was not listening to sobbing from one or the other of my parents through locked doors the house was so quiet that I found myself feeling completely and utterly lost and alone. So naturally, I was shocked when my mother came into my room and told me we were moving closer to Aunt Tilly.

“Jemma, daddy’s not feeling well and we can get him the best help in Austin. They have some amazing doctors that can make him better. Plus we can wipe the slate clean and find a whole new life. A better one, what do you say?” 

  What could I say, my mother sat on my bed with my hand in hers smiling ear to ear. I had not seen her smile in almost a year and I would have bent over backwards to keep that smile right where it was. I nodded, threw my arms around her and said the only thing my soon-to-be nine year-old self could say: “Sounds perfect Mama!”

Chapter Two

“Hey Jemma Lee, you all packed, sweety?”

 
Aunt Tilly stood in my doorway holding out a glass of iced tea. I sat up from my bed, grabbed it from her hands and guzzled down half the glass. Aunt Tilly could not make toast without burning it but she made some damned good sweet tea.

“I think so, if I forgot anything I am sure I can figure out where you live.” I said in return with a crooked smile on my face.

  Aunt Tilly rubbed my back and pulled me in for a hug so tight that I nearly dropped my glass spilling half of what was left onto the floor.

“I know I haven’t been much of a parent to you sweetheart, I have just never been good at that kind of stuff, emotions and all. But I do love you, and you are welcome here anytime, day or night. I hope you know that.”

  It was true, Tilly was not good at showing she cared but I had never doubted that she did. She was a strange bird, I could tell that somewhere and some point someone had ripped her a new one but she never spoke about her past, heck she barely ever spoke about the present. Not with me anyway. But she made sure I had plenty of food to eat, clean good quality clothes and my own room. She would sporadically give me hugs here and there to remind me that she was still a part of my life and not going any place. Something I always found kind of funny because sometimes I actually forgot.

 
I pulled away from her and looked up into her big blue eyes “I love you Aunt Tilly!” then threw my arms around her.

 
She stroked my hair a few times, edged me away and took a few paces backward. “Now that’s settled, Brandon is down stairs. He wanted to see you before he left.”

 
A sudden wave of panic surged through me and I opened my mouth to tell her to send him away.

“Nope, don’t even think about it young lady!” For a woman so unfamiliar with her emotions she sure could read them well.

“You spent years driving me crazy with Brandon this, Brandon that and while I know you broke up, I also know that boy loves you and you love him. So you take your pretty little butt downstairs and talk to him before it is too late and you spend the rest of your life regretting it. You hear me?”

 
Half way through her speech the tears were starting to come down so much that I could only nod my head. One thing I loved the most about Aunt Tilly is that she is nothing if not honest and straight to the point.

 
I shoved my way passed her without saying a word, wiped the tears from my eyes and went downstairs where I found Brandon waiting in front of the door. The very sight of him took my breath away. There will always be a part of me that loves him and knows that he will forever hold a place in my heart. After the last few months I have come to terms with the fact that I just may have cared about Brandon more than I allowed myself to acknowledge but there was no going back. I simply couldn’t break Brandon’s heart any more than I already had. But seeing him standing there, with his head to the ground looking like a lost puppy I knew that I could not stand the thought of losing him forever.

 
As soon as I hit the last stair he looked up and met my gaze letting out nothing but “Hey”. 

“Hey back at yah.” I smiled back and winked flirtatiously.

  A tiny flash of a smile played on his lips for a brief moment before he moved his gaze back to the floor, however brief, it was nice to see.

“I miss you Jem,” he uttered under his breath as he looked up to meet my eyes again. “I know I shouldn’t be here, that you don’t want me here, but I miss you and couldn‘t bear to leave without seeing you one last time.” 

  There it was, the last time. Never again would this beautiful man before me kiss me and tell me I was beautiful and perfect. He would never again tell me he loved me or look at me like I was the only girl he had ever noticed in his entire life. Brandon was no longer mine; I had no claim to him. He stood before me, damaged by a girl who didn’t know the first thing about loving anyone because love scared the shit out of her.

 
But ‘this girl’ could not bear the words “last time”. I yearned for one more touch, one more moment with the boy whose love I so desperately wanted to return, so I did all that I could think of doing without actually thinking. I threw my arms around him and let out the tears I had been forcing back since the mention of his name moments before. I cried for him, for my brother, my parents, my best friend and for the part me that was so lost I could barely find myself in the fog that constantly surrounded me. With tears pouring from my eyes I buried my face into the warmth of his chest surrounded by the comfort of his arms sheltered by an embrace that I had in no way earned.

“Don’t leave me Jemma” he whispered, begging into my ear. “We don’t have to be a couple but please don’t leave me,. I love you, no matter what, I love you and always will.”

  Still wrapped in his arms I looked up into the eyes that had sealed my fate with him freshman year, begging him to see the thoughts warring in my head. Brandon reached up to my face, after drying my tears he pressed his lips to mine and I let him. Our lips stayed locked in the sweetest kiss he had ever given me for what felt like a lifetime, when we finally pulled away our foreheads stayed together as if glued in place.

“I won’t leave you Brandon.” I whispered.

  Our lips met all over again, only this time things were different, there was nothing sweet about this kiss, this kiss was hard and full of passion, this kiss was goodbye. Goodbye to the children we were, goodbye to young love and goodbye to us as Brandon and Jemma, forever.

 
Forgetting Aunt Tilly was home we somehow found ourselves on my bed in my wasteland of a bedroom. I didn’t ever feel myself walk up the stairs, there was no thinking in this moment, it was pure animal passion. Brandon wildly pulled my shirt over my head as I did the same for him, he tugged my pants and underwear down letting out a grunt that only fueled the fire between my legs once he laid eyes on my bare and utterly willing body.

 
When his pants were gone he climbed in between my legs, teasing me with the tip of his erection. First he claimed my lips and made his way down to my breasts, suckling them to make them harder then rolling his tongue over the peaks sending a flaming heat shooting through me head to toe. Keeping his hands on my hardened nipples, he kissed his way between my legs. The moment his lips touched my throbbing nub embarrassment overcame my senses and I grabbed his head to pull him away.

“Brandon, please!” I begged, desperate
for him to climb inside of me.

 
He looked up at me with an even more desperate fire burning in his eyes and whispered, “Jem, give me this please, let me know how you taste. I want to leave here knowing that I experienced every last inch of you.”

 
Hearing the need in his voice I bit my lip and nodded. “OK” was all I could manage to get out. I was ready for him; I wanted him so bad I could feel it before it ever started. His lips kissed the bare flesh between my legs as I felt his fingers gently open my folds. His mouth slightly parted, allowing me to feel his hot breath on my clit, and then his tongue began singing its tune.

 
It began as a light tease, delicately circling my my swollen nub with tender care. But once the first gasp escaped my lips his tongue began more frantic movements. The ferocious dance of his tongue caused me to quiver and shake beneath him.

“You taste like Heaven baby.” he slowly pushed a finger into me and his tongue went back to work, circling more and more flicking back and forth then circling again until I couldn’t take it anymore. I let myself go calling his name as I exploded on his talented tongue. He continued kissing me, once his mouth met mine I tasted myself on his lips and the throbbing between my legs became more intense.

“I love you so much Jemma, you taste like honey, I can’t get enough.”

 
He kissed me again as he moved two fingers back into me.

“Tell me you love me Jem, I know you do, say it please, just once baby.”

  His fingers dance inside me and just before I climaxed again I whispered into his ear “I love you Brandon, I need you inside me, please, PLEASE!” I begged.

 
On the final please his hands moved and his cock jammed itself inside of me with one hard thrust. Never moving his lips from mine he continued to move along my walls, sometimes slowing, sometimes pounding me so hard it nearly hurt. I could tell he needed this for closure, we both did.

“Jemma” he roared. “I’m about to come, come with me baby.”

  I reached for his lips and began clenching myself harder around him, moving my hips in unison, anticipating his every move. Then with one final hard thrust I screamed his name once again, finishing along with him as he coated the walls of my hot moist core with everything that he had.

 
He stayed inside of me for several minutes savoring every second before he pulled out and we began our inevitable goodbye. Leaving me alone so that he could get a wet cloth to clean us up, the tears found their way back as I realized just what I had given up. This was love. I loved Brandon. I don’t know if it is the mind-blowing, forever-lasting, soul-mate kind of love but I know I am in love with him and it hurts.

 
Watching as Brandon pulled on his pants I found myself with tears softly flowing down my cheeks wishing that he could have stayed inside of me forever. Just the two of us locked in this room, never having to face the reality of life again. We could just spend our lives making love, coming together then doing it all over again. But this was the real world and in the real world things are not that easy.

  Once Brandon was dressed he climbed into bed next to me and propped himself up on his side.

“I know that doesn’t change anything Jem, if that is why you are crying.”

  I shook my head back and forth trying to force the tears back into my eyes but it didn’t work.

“I love you Brandon, I really do and I am so sorry I am hurting you!”

  He put his hand to my cheek and leaned over me kissing the tears from my eyes.

“Shh, it’s OK baby, it’s time to grow up, time to move on. I get it, you can’t give me everything. I have always known , deep down I knew I didn’t have all of you. No matter how many times I tried to convince myself otherwise I knew. But I also knew you
loved
me, somewhere deep down it was there.”

 
He wiped the rest of the tears from my face and we stared at each other briefly before he got up off the bed and held his hand out to me helping me up.

“Get dressed and walk me out?”

  I walked Brandon out to his car without saying a word. Not because I didn’t have a million things that I wanted to say but because I knew it would hurt both of us too much to say them. He opened the passenger side and pulled out a small manila envelope.

“Don’t open this until I am gone. It’s a little cheesy but I wanted to give you something to remember me by.” He handed me the package.

“Don’t forget about me Jem. I am not going to be an idiot and say I am going to wait for you because I know you will never come to me. But I am hoping we can be friends, which is such a strange thing to say after everything that just happened. But I don‘t want you to forget that I will always be there when you need me.”

 
He placed his hands on my chin, pulled my face to his and kissed me for what was surely to be the last time.

“I won’t forget you Brandon, I promise. And so you know, I don’t regret a thing. You should know that, every second we were together, I regret none of it.” I cried.

  His arms wrapped themselves around me once again and I felt his soft lips kiss me quick and soft on the top of my head, “Thank you, baby.”

 
Then he turned around, got in the car and drove away leaving me standing on my front lawn holding onto the envelope for dear life.

 
If it were not for Brea catching me off guard I am not sure I would have ever moved.

“Earth to Jemma!” she called out jabbing me in the ribs with her bony finger causing me to jump. 

“Ow!” I yelped. “Did you come to make up or do you still hate me?”

 
She thought for a moment.

“That depends, was that Brandon? He said he might stop by.”

  All I could do was nod. I seem to be at a loss of words most of the time these days. 

“Well, what happened? Did you get everything sorted out?” she pressed.

“I think so, it was hard but I think we both know where we stand and are going to try to make friendship work. Though I am not so sure how to do that with him almost two thousand miles away.”

 
Then I turned and walked back in the house taking the stairs up to my room as Brea followed behind.

“Well, in that case, I forgive you. Sorry I freaked and bailed on you. As far as your future with Brandon, it’s friendship, not romance. It’s a lot easier to make a long distance friendship work than it is to make a sexual relationship work.”

  I nodded in agreement as she stepped through the bedroom door stopping as she reached the bed. She made a gesture that looked a lot like sniffing the air and before I knew it she punched me in the shoulder.