Two Weeks (36 page)

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Authors: Andrea Wolfe

BOOK: Two Weeks
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I don't drive very fast on our way home. I want to savor the trip as much as I can, a trip in which old and new friends are all united. The conversation is lively and fluid, constantly moving from one subject to the next. Honestly, I couldn't ask for better company.

I hate the feeling as I turn onto their street. I despise the sight of their house as we approach it. And I'm infuriated when I put the truck into park and say goodbye to Jeff.

"I'm going to go in ahead of you and explain myself," he says to Ally. "Keep in touch, Jackson, okay? I owe you big time for this. I owe you big time for everything."

"We'll definitely be in touch," I say—and mean it. "And don't sweat it."

Jeff grins and closes the door, then disappears into the house. Ally and I sit there for a minute without saying anything. She yawns and stretches her legs. "I'm gonna pack up and hang out for a little bit. And then I'll stop by, okay?"

"Yeah," I say weakly. I'm at a point where I don't know if I should really let everything out to take advantage of what's left, or just suppress it all as a means of damage control.

I'm stuck in the middle. "That sounds fine. Just stop by whenever you can."

"Jackson?" she asks.

"What?"

"Thanks for being the bigger man. This only happened because of you. Jeff was a little shit that didn't deserve your forgiveness—but I'm glad you gave it to him anyway."

I smile as she leans in and kisses me on the cheek. "See ya soon."

She hops out and opens the back door to grab her suitcase. And then I follow her incredible figure with my eyes as she approaches the door. When she's inside, I pull away. I kind of regret not kissing her back, but I'll have another chance.

The drive out to my house feels lonelier than ever. But as I pull into the driveway, I see the baby bunnies hopping around with their mother in a big cluster. They aren't very coordinated yet and the sight is incredibly amusing. My mood improves instantly. They flee as I approach them with the truck, and I kind of feel bad for startling them, even though this
is
my driveway.

They disappear into the tall grass around my fence. I really hope that they'll come back when Ally's here tonight.

I head inside and unpack my suitcase. When that's done, I make myself a protein shake and then go for a run.

It's the perfect weather and I feel like I could jog forever. But when I think about running with Ally, it's nothing but pangs of melancholy. Something seems really off and I can't help but feel like I've made some kind of mistake beyond the obvious
getting too involved
thing. I don't know what it is, though.

I end up in the garage mindlessly training the hours away, seeking something to occupy my time while I wait. The hours are crawling by, and my incessant staring at the clock isn't helping.

Where is she?
I wonder.

I regret telling Curtis not to come now.

As four o'clock rolls around, I start to feel really frazzled to the point that I almost wish I had refused to take Jeff in, the very thing that finalized the mending of our broken relationship, and then spent the final night alone with Ally. Anxiety is frying my brain.

And then my phone buzzes, and I run over to it like I'm rescuing a baby from a burning building.

It's Ally,
thank God
.

"Hey," she says. "I'm... not so sure I can make it back out. I mean, my parents are freaking out about us all being home together and my mom's just been talking incessantly. I could barely get away to call you."

"Oh." I feel like I've been stabbed, but I don't need to ruin her day too.

"And I've got some other stuff to wrap up before I get to bed. I... didn't really plan for this. I wish I could see you somehow, but it's kind of a mess."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it. Nobody expected to run into Jeff."

"Yeah." When she stops talking, I can hear kitchen commotion in the background. Chopping. The clanging of pots and pans. "My mom is making this big fancy meal. I haven't seen her so excited in years."

I feign laughter because I'm not seeing the joy in any of this. "Well, good luck with that," I say. "And good luck with everything in Boston."

"Yeah, you too, Jackson. Just... be careful for me, okay?"

"I will." I don't know if I mean it or not, but it's what I
want
to say to her.

"This has been really great. I mean, you helped me get through what should have been one of the toughest times in my life."

"It was an honor," I say. Memories from the last two weeks come flooding into my brain. Feelings of lust, of romance, of care, concern and comfort. They take over my brain like emotional parasites.

"We'll keep in touch, okay? I'll let you know when I'm settled back in."

"Yeah. That sounds good. Have a safe flight."

"You too," she says instinctively. "I mean, you're not flying, b-but be safe or whatever." The words come out nervously and I smile at her stumbling.

"The bunnies are doing well, by the way. I saw them hopping around."

I can hear the huge smile in her voice. "That's awesome. Send me a picture if you can get one."

"I'll try."

I stand there in silence, just listening to the dreadful hum of the air conditioner. Usually I like white noise, but today it just reminds me of being alone. "Well, it's been great, Jackson. I'll see you later."

"Same, Ally." The words taste bitter in my mouth.

Neither of us wants to hang up on the other so we're at a standstill for another minute. "Well, bye then."

"Bye," I say. I hear her end go silent. Everything is silent now, minus the dreaded air conditioner. I grab the remote and shut it off—and then I sit.

That's it.

Goodbye, Ally.

***

Ally

T
he family dinner goes as well as it possibly can. My dad and Jeff have some whiskey, but I abstain on account of my early flight. At the very least, I'm considerably distracted from how I feel while we eat. We talk a little bit about our respective weekends, but not much.

My mom is just so thrilled for both of us to be home at once and I can't blame her since we have a great family. I feel lucky to have them, even with the problems we sometimes have.

Jackson doesn't have anything like that anymore, and that really makes me feel awful inside when I think about it. So I try not to think about it.

I fill them all in on the details of my departure tomorrow and they very predictably comment that it's
so early
. And with that announcement—and the conclusion of dinner, of course—I go to work cleaning up my room and packing the extra clothing discoveries that I'm taking home with me.

Jeff and my dad end up watching a football game and my mom works on a sewing project. Everyone is occupied, including me.

After my room is tidied up and I answer a couple of emails, I sit down on the bed. I feel really horrible about doing this to Jackson. I mean, after everything we've been through in such a short time, the best I can do is call him and tell him goodbye over the phone. It's kind of pathetic.

I should have invited him to dinner.
Why didn't I? I'm disgusted with myself for forgetting.

I wish there was something I could do. But I know that if I went to see him, I'd be there all night and barely functioning tomorrow. We didn't expect to see Jeff and the days just moved so fast that I lost track of time.

We
both
lost track of time. Time ran away from us.

I can't blame anyone, but that doesn't change how I feel. I really miss him. I don't know what any of this means, and I can't predict how I'm going to feel as time goes on. The thought of him getting hurt and winding up totally alone haunts me every time my mind isn't preoccupied with something else. I push it out of my head and again and again, but it grows back like a resilient weed in the crack of a sidewalk.

When all of my stuff is finally ready, I print off my boarding pass and say my goodbyes downstairs. Nobody will be awake when I leave tomorrow, so I do it now. My mom and dad are sorry to see me go, but I've got a whole life to return to.

Jeff doesn't say much when I say goodbye, but I think that's just because he doesn't want to talk about last night in front of my parents. I have no idea what he told them, nor do I have any intention of telling them the truth. He's learned his lesson, and everything is fine in their universe now.

I hope it stays that way.

Around nine, I try to go bed. I can't sleep. No matter what I do, I can't un-see Jackson's face in my mind. I can't un-hear the tone of his voice as I tell him that I can't leave the house tonight and he won't see me again. I restlessly toss and turn for what seems like hours. It probably
is
hours.

I don't want to look at the clock because it'll only make it worse. I stick to this plan for a while, but curiosity eventually gets the best of me. It's already eleven-thirty. If I fall asleep before midnight, I'm only going to get maybe three or four hours of sleep at the most, and that's only if I actually fall asleep.

I'm still wide awake—and now I know what I want. I know what I
need
to do.

I flip on all the lights in my room and grab my stuff. After my toiletries are out of the bathroom, I creep through the living room where my dad is slumbering in his chair. Jeff is still awake and he immediately hops up and meets me at the back door.

"Where are you heading?" he asks suspiciously.

"I'm going to see Jackson. One last time."

Jeff smiles at me. "You know, you're an adult. You don't have to sneak out anymore. You could have told us."

"I wasn't the one that snuck out," I say chidingly. "That was
you.
And I didn't plan this. I can't sleep at all."

He falls silent, like he's thinking hard. "Ah, well, tell Jackson thanks from me again. He's... such a great guy. It's horrible what I did to him. I don't deserve his forgiveness, no way."

"He cares about you," I say. "He wanted the rift to end."

"Well, tell him the rift is over. And text me his current cell phone number."

"I will." I hug Jeff and it's a really nice feeling. A homecoming sort of feeling.

"Good luck with everything," he says. "And Max was kind of an asshole anyway."

I raise an eyebrow. "I know. I'm just lucky I got rid of him so easily."

Jeff starts laughing and has to put his hand over his mouth to keep from waking up my dad. "See ya," he finally says.

"Bye."

I make one final stop in the dining room to make sure I haven't forgotten anything, and then I head out into the night. I'm not telling Jackson that I'm coming, and I really hope he's not sitting at the bar.

As I pass the only twenty-four hour gas station in town, I pull in and grab some energy drinks. I don't usually drink them, but this is probably going to be a
long night
.

I drive out to Jackson's and pull into the yard. I can't help squealing with glee as I see the tiny rabbits hopping around in the glow of the headlights. They all quickly disappear into the bushes and I'm glad I got to see them since photographing those tiny little guys would have been damn near impossible.

There are still lights on in the house, which I take as a good sign. I park behind Jackson's truck and walk around to the sliding door of the kitchen. When I get up onto the deck, I freak out.

Jackson is at the kitchen table by himself, slumped over with his face against the surface, pool of saliva beneath his lips. There's a half-finished bottle of whiskey and an empty shot glass near him.

Oh my God, is he dead?
I'm so freaked out I don't know what to do. Was he just so depressed that he took a bunch of pills and then drank himself to death? I should have come here sooner; I could have saved him.

I'm about to dial 911 when I stop and decide to try the door first since I don't really know what's going on. It's locked. I pound on the glass.

"Jackson!" I shout. "Jackson!" I frantically pound away. I return to my cell phone, and as I'm about to make the call, I see him stirring. He squints at me with disbelief, and then slowly stands up and approaches the door.

When he slides it open, I pounce on him, hugging like I've never hugged before. "Whoa," he says. "What's going on?" He seems really groggy.

"I thought you were dead!" I shout.

"I thought you were asleep or with your family or whatever."

I walk into the kitchen and set the plastic bag of energy drinks on the table. "What the hell are you doing passed out at the kitchen table?"

"Well," he says, "I was depressed and then I drank too much on an empty stomach. I only had a few shots. Damn. Can't believe it wiped me out like that."

"Oh, Jackson," I say, stroking his face. "I'm so sorry I did that to you." I pull the energy drinks out of the bag. "Do you want one?"

"What are we doing? And why are there three? Is someone else joining us?"

"We're hanging out all night," I say. "Just you and me. The third one is for my drive to the airport."

His face lights up. "I sure as hell wasn't expecting this."

"Well, me either," I say. "So let's get to it." I hand him a can and open one for myself. "Cheers!" I tap mine against his and then we start drinking.

We both almost spit out the first sip. "It's terrible," he says. "I could have just made coffee."

"Well, we're not stopping now. Just drink it fast."

He obeys and finishes it twice as fast as I do. When we're both done, I put the last can in the fridge.

"That was dumb," he says.

"I know," I say awkwardly. "I just had the idea when I was coming over here."

"Okay." He stares right at me with the most salacious eyes I've ever seen in my life. "I'll race you to the bedroom."

"You're gonna lose!" I shout and sprint up the stairs ahead of him, an illegal head start. I win. We both collapse in his bed together and our clothes vanish like they melted. I barely remember getting undressed, but I definitely know I'm naked.

Jackson makes love to me with more passion than I've ever seen in him. It's absolutely bittersweet, the best sex I've ever had in my life. As much as my mind drifts toward the fact that this is the last time I'll be with him like this, I'm completely overtaken by bliss. He wants me, and he
has me
.

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