I can still remember the way his hands grazed my face right before he was about to kiss me. They would slide up over my cheeks and into my hair. He would look deeply in my eyes, like he was searching for something, searching for the real me. Like he knew I was in there somewhere and he was going to bring it out.
His lips would pass over mine, and for a quick second we were one. Time was standing still. If only those seconds had lasted longer.
I've caught myself wanting those moments back. I've been wondering where he is, what he is doing. If he ever got away like we always talked about doing. Even now while I was sitting on the bus, staring out the window, watching familiar sites pass as we pulled closer and closer. Closer to that town that I swore to myself I would never enter again.
As the bus pulled up to the station, my palms started to sweat. I hadn't been home in almost ten years. I hardly had spoken to any of my family. Phone calls here and there, but with our history, I didn't blame them for keeping their distance. If it hadn't been for my grandfather passing away, chances are I wouldn't have been back at all.
I stepped off the bus and looked for her face. She had called the day before I left New York to make sure yet again, when my bus would be arriving. I recognized the look on her face when she saw me. The look of relief, that I had kept my word. I would have never missed this for the world. As much as my mom thought otherwise, I'm not completely heartless.
My grandfather had been a huge part of my life. After my dad had passed away when I was five, he had stepped in to be there when my dad couldn't and my mother had a hard time being around me. Too many memories of what we had before.
We were pretty well off before my dad had passed, and after we were financially set. My mom made sure that I never went without when it came to possessions. The only thing that I went without was her attention, which I needed more than anything else.
By the time I had reached high school, she didn't know who I was. Even when she tried, I pushed her away. Why then did she need to know the girl she called her daughter.
She walked towards me, tears in her eyes. I didn't know if they were because of me, or the passing of her father. There was a part of me that hoped it was both.
She wrapped her arms around me. It was awkward and short. It felt as though she couldn't let me go fast enough.
"I hope the trip wasn't too terrible. I don't know why you wouldn't just take a plane instead." My mother said. Already hearing the tone in her voice, almost like there was something else she wanted to say.
"You know how I feel about planes. Never been a huge fan." Pushing my thoughts to the back of my mind. I was only here for a few days and I didn't want to make this any more unpleasant then I already knew it was going to be.
She grabbed my bag and we started walking towards her car. She threw it in the trunk and we got in. The fifteen minute drive to the house was completely silent. Nothing but tension was in the air.
When we pulled up to the house, I noticed that nothing had changed. Stepping out of the car, everything seemed so surreal. I didn't feel like I should have been here. Even with everything that was going on. I felt out of place. We walked up the porch, my bag in her hand, she turned to look at me.
"Dinner is at 6:30, like always. You eat when I do, or you don't eat at all." There was no emotion on her face or in her voice. I had the strange feeling that I should follow her. She did after all have my bag. It wouldn't be the first time that she had rummaged through my things. The thought quickly left my mind. I am no longer a child. I have nothing to fear from my mother. I reassured myself.
The house was set right on the coast of the pacific. Carmel Bay, California. Looking now I realize nothing about the look of it is simple. The majority of the house was made up of windows that overlooked the ocean. I walked around the outside of the house taking in the familiar sights. Breathing the fresh air, fresher than New York.
Nestled in the back corner of the porch was the swing. I used to sit there with my grandfather, my father, and even him. It was my constant. Anyone who had ever meant something to me had spent time with me in this place.
As I walked closer to the swing, the more everything started to sink in. My father was gone, my grandfather was gone, he was gone. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I had known it for years, but in this moment it came rushing back.
I sat down on the swing and let it hit me. Let it wash over me like the waves over the rocks. I slowly let myself rock back and forth and I let the tears roll down my face. Let the years of unshed tears and forgotten memories leave me. As I rocked the exhaustion of the trip started to hit me. I lay down and let it take over me.
He always found his way into my thoughts. Even at night, when I slept, when I dreamed.
I was thirteen years old when I first saw him. To this day I still can tell you the first thing I ever noticed about him. His smile, hardly seen, but when he did, it lit up the room. He smiled across the cafeteria. It wasn't directed towards me, but I saw it. It almost seemed like an instant attraction, on my part at least. I didn't know what I liked more. The fact that he was a bad boy, or that I knew my mother would never approve. It hadn't mattered though. I think it took him three years before he ever knew I existed.
He sat down in front of me in biology. My heart skipped a beat when I realized it was him. The smell of his cologne was mixed with cigarette smoke. Normally it would repulse me, but not him. His blonde hair was longer now, slicked back to keep it from his eyes. He was wearing baggy jeans and t-shirt. Sunglasses pulled over his eyes. He sat back in his chair like he didn't have a care in the world.
As the teacher walked in, everyone sat up and gave their full attention, everyone except him.
"Everyone open your books to chapter one, take out your notebooks, and a pencil. You will need to take notes on this lecture for a test tomorrow." Everyone quickly did what the teacher had asked. Everyone except him, that is. His head hung almost as if he was taking a nap.
"That means you as well Mr. Teller" Mr. Williams called out. He opened his book and turned to chapter one. That's when it happened. He turned around to me, pulled his sunglasses from his eyes, and smiled.
"You happen to have an extra pencil and notebook darlin'?" He asked me with a wink.
Nothing left my mouth. Not that I wasn't trying. His blue eyes and contagious smile had me speechless. I had run this scenario through my head over and over. Thinking of what I would say when it actually happened. And here I was with nothing.
"Ummm yeah, yeah I think so." I grabbed my bag and fumbled to get the pencil and paper. As I handed them over and gave them to him my hands were shaking.
"Thanks darlin'." He said with another wink and turned back around. I still couldn't believe myself. I knew I turned all different shades of red as he waited. I was so embarrassed. It took the rest of class to talk myself out of the embarrassment.
The bell rang, signaling that the school day was finally over. Everyone quickly picked up there things. Mr. Williams' voice was lost over the sound of rustling papers and chatter from the excited teenagers. I packed my things up, still in my own world, running our first conversation over and over. I hardly noticed him standing in front of me, until I ran right into him, dropping everything I had in my hands. I hadn't embarrassed myself enough already
"Careful sweetheart, you could really hurt yourself." He says with a smirk. He kneeled down to help me with my things. He piled all my things up and handed them to me.
"Thanks. I don't know what has gotten into me today. I'm usually not like this."
His hand reached out for mine "The names Jackson, but all my friends call me Jax."
"I know." I said with a shy smile. "Alexis." I said taking his hand and shaking it.
I awoke to sound of the screen door closing. The sky was dark. I knew it was well past dinner time. My mother walked up to the porch swing. I sat up and slid over so that she could sit next to me.
"Well you missed dinner." She said, still with no emotion.
"That's alright. I wasn't very hungry." It always seemed as though she wanted to pick a fight with me. Tonight was the not the night that I was going to give in. I knew it was going to happen eventually though.
"Alright, well your stuff is in your old room. I didn't unpack. Figured you wouldn't be staying long. No need for that." She said as she got off the swing and headed back into the house.
I walked up to my old room. Everything in my room had been packed up into boxes. She had left blankets and sheets folded on the end of the queen size bed along with a pillow. I walked over to one of the boxes and pulled off the lid. The first box was old pictures from when I was younger, before my dad had passed away. We looked so happy, even my mom.
I grabbed the sheets and blankets and tossed them to the floor. The pillow was all that I needed. I knew what the night had planned for me. And it wouldn't be sleeping. For the rest of the night I tossed and turned. I wanted nothing more than for my body to give in. I wanted to see his face. I wanted to see Jax.