JACKSON

After I say goodnight to April, I shut the guest bedroom door and stand with my back against it, chest heaving. I center my gaze in the middle of the windows on the far wall, staring at a steady point until the room stops spinning.

I let my hand crawl to the knob where I make sure the door is locked, jiggling it a few times to be positive. I swallow loudly and walk to the bed, sitting down on the side closest to the nightstand where I let my elbows fall to my knees and my face fall to rest in my open palms.

My body is trembling with emotion. It feels like my entire life has happened in one day and I've watched it zip before my eyes, but at the same time it feels like time has stopped. Time has stopped and I'm stuck in the middle of everything, experiencing every emotion at full capacity.

I grit my teeth, clenching my jaw as I stare down at the fluffy white carpet. I didn't mean for that to happen, for April and I to sleep together. Once it started, of course I wanted it, but I hadn't sought her out with the intent of sleeping with her. I sought April out because she's my best friend, she's safe, and she's the last piece of home I have left.

I came home to her because I love her. She's always been a part of who I am.

But what we just did sent my mind into a whirlwind. I rock back and forth with my head in my hands, letting loud exhales through my teeth. I close my eyes, then open them wide as I try to center myself. It's not working, though. I haven't felt intense physical sensations for a long time now, and they're not bringing me to a good place. I have no control of the feelings coursing through me, or the uncontrollable waves of pleasure that came over me just moments ago.

I loved the way it felt, but it shook me off balance. For the past handful of years, it was dire to be in complete control of my body. It was my vessel, it was how I survived and kept other people alive in the middle of war. So the fact that another person, my best friend, no less, made me feel things that I couldn't anticipate, is rattling me.

She wanted me to sleep in her bed tonight. I know she did, but I couldn't do it. I can't. I need to be in here alone, with the door locked. At night is when it gets bad. When I get bad.

I tighten my hands into fists and try to force the memories away, but they're relentless. Much like the way I couldn't control the way she made my body feel, I can't control the intrusive thoughts hacking their way into my brain right now. I pinch my eyes shut tight and screw up my forehead, shaking my head violently in hopes to will them away, but they won't go. They only storm faster.

Suddenly, instead of sitting on a soft bed in a dark room, I'm wearing my heavy uniform in the middle of a sandstorm. There's so much sound encasing me that I can't begin to think straight - the loudest of all being gunshots coming from every direction.

My commander is shouting for us to get up and get going, and I grapple for my rifle and rise to my feet, following my fellow troops out of our base. We all run at the same speed in a pack, but I can't tell where the shots are coming from. All I know is that I need to duck, get behind something that can protect me from getting hit, and look for the target.

I'm on the constant defense all the time. There are days at a time where we get no rest and there's constant gunshots, explosions and bloodshed. Sometimes, the bloodshed of innocent civilians. More often that sometimes, really. And when you see it happen, you never forget it.

The day my life changed forever had been like any other. I was walking through the village with the best friend I'd made while enlisted, Ben Warren. We'd been on the same tour of duty for years, always getting called back to the same locations at the same time. We'd always joke that one of us was rigging the system, but I was just glad that I had someone to stick by. And that there was someone to stick by me.

I can still feel the crunch of the gravelly dirt under my boots, still feel the dry heat of the sun baking onto my face as we walked through town. A small girl caught my attention, walking along the side of the street with a baby boy in her arms that I assumed was her brother. We met eyes - hers were dark, round, and curious - and she gave me a shy smile. I waved back, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible. I didn't want to scare her.

Ben was a few steps ahead of me, and when the car bomb went off, the first thing I saw was his body fly through the air. Time slowed down, like I was watching it happen to totally different people. It felt more like a movie than real life. Fire rose up high into the air, engulfing the car in flames, and I was blown back from the blast and tossed to the ground, landing right on my knee so it shattered.

The pain didn't register. Nothing did, at first. I blinked open my eyes and saw fields of dust, but heard nothing. The only sound in my head was a high-pitched ringing and the thud of footsteps on the ground below me. I tried to see through the dust, and though I couldn't see much, I saw three things.

Three lifeless bodies, lying in unnatural positions with their faces pressed to the dry earth. Ben, the little girl, and her infant brother. I could only make out one half of her - the other half was bloody and battered - and her eyes were still open. Round and lifeless. The baby was crushed beneath her, gone completely still.

Ben had his arms folded under his body in a way that told me they'd been broken. His mouth was open and he was completely still, slack as our fellow troops picked him up and got him on a gurney. Even if I could've mustered my voice, I wouldn't have had to tell them it was too late. They already knew.

When they picked him up, his body was coated in blood. The explosion had torn him open, but I couldn't rip my eyes away. The one person who I had here was gone, dead, being transported to the medical tent for procedures that would do no good.

No one touched the girl and her brother. No one went near them, no one noticed. No one picked them up and put them on a gurney to bring them to a medical tent. They laid still as the dust settled around them, drifting to rest on their ragged and torn clothes, falling into their open mouths and eyes.

Before I passed out, I wondered how their parents would find out. If they had any parents at all. I wondered if there was anyone who would notice that they were gone.

I grit my teeth in real time and try to pull myself away from my life back then. It wasn't long ago - no more than a month that I was injured and discharged, but sometimes it feels worlds away. Other times, though, it feels like it's happening right now, in the moment, and I have to figure out ways to get away from it, to get out. To save those kids. To save Ben.

I never dream about anything else, so I find myself not sleeping. Because no matter how hard I try, nothing ever works. They always die, just out of my reach.

And somehow, I stayed alive. For some reason, I was allowed to live with only a shattered knee and lessened hearing in my right ear. Three people had to die, and I walked away with minor injuries that forced me out of the one thing in life I was good at.

I stand up from the bed and pace the room, trying to think of things that'll transport me out of this hell. I don't want to relive it, but it's never a choice. I would do anything to forget about it, to get the image of Ben's lifeless face out of my brain, but I can't. The best I can do is think of something better, something that'll force these thoughts out.

I squeeze my head tight between my palms and go back to just a little while ago. I picture April's naked body on top of me on the couch, her face pressed into my neck with her tongue on my throat. I remember the way her skin felt under my touch, the way her hips moved when I was inside her, the way her mouth fell open when I made her come. I try and remember how soft her hair is, how she sounded, how she tasted, but it doesn't help.

It brings too many emotions to the forefront of my brain. I don't know what I feel for her, and picturing us having sex doesn't make that any clearer. It can't happen again, I know that much now. If it sends me into this kind of turmoil, I can't keep doing it. Even if it does feel amazing in the moment, I don't have the strength to have a comedown like this every time it's over.

I shake my head roughly and force myself to think about something else. Something older, something calmer, something I can hold onto.

I think about something I held onto overseas when things got hard. While we were in our bunks and could still hear gunfire raining down in villages far from ours, it wasn't easy to get to sleep. So I would always recall the same memory, one where I felt completely at peace and happy, and it would help transport me home. Transport me back to that very moment, when everything was simple.

It was our senior summer - the one where I could legally drive without an adult in the car, and April and I both had the day off from work. So she was in my passenger's seat in white shorts and a peach top with her bikini underneath, and we were headed to South Haven to go to the beach.

All of the windows were down and her hair was flying in the wind. She had her eyes closed with the sun on her face, a small smile on her lips, and I couldn't help but take her hand when we stopped at a stoplight.

She looked over at me, the ghost of a grin still present. "What?" she asked, but didn't let go.

"Nothing," I said, and faced the road again. I drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping hers. I didn't want to let her go, and I don't think she wanted me to, either.

We went and got ice cream first from Kilwin's, the best ice cream place in town. I watched April stand at the counter, her arms tucked into her chest, as she read the menu board even though we both knew she'd get the same thing she always did.

"Mint chocolate chip, please," she said. "A double."

"Ooh, a double," I said, sauntering up to her. "Livin' large."

She rolled her eyes and bumped me with her hip.

"I'll have Mackinac Island Fudge," I said. "A double, too."

"Livin' large," she said, her voice mocking mine.

This time it was my turn to roll my eyes. She pulled out her money to pay, but I pushed her hand away. "I got this," I said.

"Jackson," she said, but didn't finish as I laid a $10 bill on the counter. I left the change in the tip jar and we walked outside, our ice cream beginning to melt from the steady sun beating down.

We walked to the pier, but not all the way to the end. We found a clear spot in the middle and I handed April my cone to hold as I sat down, but as she licked her own, both of my scoops toppled to the concrete with a pathetic sounding 'squish.'

"Oh, no!" she said, kneeling down to try and fix it somehow. She poised her hands by it like she was going to pick it up, but I stopped her. "I didn't mean to drop it, I'm so sorry. Do you want to go get a new one? I'll pay for it."

I laughed and motioned for her to sit down next to me, away from the spill. She scooted close so our hips were right against each other, our elbows resting on the guardrail, legs hanging over.

"It's fine," I said. "I don't want to go all the way back."

She sighed. "Well, then we should share mine," she said, offering it to me.

"You don't have to," I said. "I'm okay."

"I want to!" she insisted. "Lick it."

"April."

She gave me a look. "Jackson," she said, fake-sternly. "Lick my ice cream or forever hold your peace."

We busted up laughing and I took a bite of it while she still held the cone, keeping eye contact the entire time.

"We'll share it," she said, taking a lick herself. "It's good, right?"

"Delicious," I agreed.

"Wanna hold it?" she asked. "You have the napkins, and it's melting on me."

I took it from her and licked what was dripping, then extended it out for her. With a smile, she moved her head closer and closed her lips around the soft ice cream, chewing on a chocolate chunk when she was done.

"Ooh, got a good bite," she said, and leaned to the side to rest her head on my shoulder.

We took turns eating it; I'd take a bite then lower it down to her where she stayed propped against me, and finished it like that. When she took the last bite of the cone, we got up and made our way towards the beach.

"This will be the year that I get a tan," April said, after we laid our beach blanket out. "You just watch."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," I said, snickering. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"You will."

"Sure."

She scoffed at me and tied her hair up in a ponytail, then stripped off her shorts and t-shirt to expose her bikini underneath. It was definitely modest - the bottoms weren't low and the top was a bandeau instead of a v-cut - but the way the green stood out against her skin and hair was doing things to me. I didn't let myself look for too long, otherwise I know she'd catch me staring. Staring at her smooth, creamy legs, her stomach, the dimples on the small of her back, no. I definitely didn't want to be caught looking at any of that.

She sat down and looked my way through her sunglasses. "Are you gonna swim?" she asked.

"Are you gonna put on sunscreen?" I countered back.

She pursed her lips. "I'm getting there," she said, pulling out the tube. She squirted some into her palms and rubbed it over her shoulders, chest, face, stomach and legs, but propped herself up on her knees afterwards.

"Will you do my back?" she asked. "I can't reach."

She swiped her ponytail out of the way and I complied, of course, and knelt behind her as I squirted sunscreen onto my own hands. I rubbed it over the backs of her shoulders down lower, until I reached the small of her back. I tried not to let myself look, but when my fingers grazed the waistband of her bikini bottoms, I jolted away.

She chuckled. "See a mouse?" she asked.

"Shut up," I said. "Do me."

She slathered the white lotion all over my back too, giving my shoulders a squeeze once she was done. That only proved to me that she definitely didn't have feelings for me, if she could be so comfortable with my naked back while I was so nervous around hers.

I went in the water for a while while April stayed on the sand, and when I came back, shaking the droplets from my curly hair, she was asleep. The sun was beating right down onto her, and I could already see a pink tinge appearing on her skin. I didn't want to wake her, but I also didn't want her to burn, so I took my towel and laid it over most of her body. Unfortunately, she wouldn't get a tan, but she'd thank me later.

Recalling the physical feelings from that memory - the way the sun felt on my skin, the warm breeze on my face, the sweet ice cream on my tongue - brings me back to a place of mental stability. It's something I can hold onto, something that I can control, a time when I was purely happy. I didn't have a single worry in the world. The things that seemed big were nothing compared to my strife now. So when I'm able to go back and relive that moment for just a little while, it does me a whole lot of good.

I still don't sleep, though. With sleep comes nightmares, and I don't want to go back there. So I stay up for most of the night, taking catnaps here and there, and go downstairs to turn on the coffee maker once an acceptable hour rolls around.

April's face when I tell her that last night can't happen again is almost enough for me to take it back, but I know I can't. I can see the shame painted in her eyes, along with the embarrassment and pain. I didn't want to hurt her, but I can't keep digging a deeper hole for myself. It just can't happen right now.

I want to tell her something that'll make it better. I wish I could tell her the reason why, but coming out and explaining why we can't sleep together is almost more trouble than it's worth. I don't know how to define what I have going on. Do I have PTSD? Am I in shock? Do I have some other kind of emotional disorder? I don't know. And I don't want her to have to see me in whatever state I go into after it happens. She won't like me then. She won't recognize me. And the last thing I want is for April to be scared of me.

She can't see me like that.

When she leaves for yoga, I look at the coffee that she's left untouched on the counter and sigh. After I'm done drinking mine, I go back upstairs and unpack my suitcase, then sit in the armchair in the corner of the guest room to look out the window.

I end up nodding off because of how little sleep I got, and when I wake up, the sun is shining brightly into the room. That means it's either late morning or early afternoon, so I haul myself out of the chair and start towards the bathroom so I can get in the shower.

The door is closed, but I don't pay it any mind. I must have closed it earlier. So with my head towards the ground, I push open the door and find the light already on, which is confusing.

Before I have time to register what's happening, the scene is laid out in front of me. It's hard for me to hear things that I'm not looking at, so I didn't hear the water running, but I can see now that the shower is on and April is inside it. It happens in a split second, but the moment drags on forever as I catch sight of her leaning against the side wall, perfectly visible through the glass panel, head thrown back as one hand is tucked between her legs. Her mouth is open as the sound of her moaning gets lost under the sound of the water, and I can see her hand moving quickly and fervently. Her hair is slicked back from her face as the water runs over her body, and as her hips lift to meet her hand I can tell that she's close. I can't keep watching this.

"Shit," I say under my breath, then turn to leave in hopes she didn't notice me.

"Oh, god!" she shrieks, and I keep my back turned as I hear something clatter in the shower. "Jackson, god! I thought you were… I checked and you were asleep! My shower's clogged, I had to use this one… I didn't-I didn't think you'd wake up. I'm so… oh, my god. Oh, my god. Oh… my god. You weren't supposed to… you just saw… oh, my god."

"It's fine," I say, shoulders hunched by my ears as I stay faced the other way. "I can wait."

"I'm almost done," she says, then makes a frustrated sound. "Not like that! I'm almost done in here, I can be finished. I just have to rinse off, I… just a second, okay? Then you can have your shower. Oh, my god."

"No problem," I say, voice a little pinched. "Take your time. I… I'll go back to my room for a bit 'til you're done."

I shut the door behind me and let out a long gust of air, holding my head between my hands as I shut my door behind me. Holy shit. Seeing her like that definitely does not help the fact that I'm trying to resist her, because she looked fucking hot under that water, getting herself off. I've never seen her do that - it never even crossed my mind that she would. But I guess she's a human with needs and… there's no reason why she shouldn't.

I have the undying urge to know what she was thinking about - or who, rather. It's hypocritical of me to hope that she was thinking about me. About us, last night.

Her body is beautiful. When we were kids, it was different. She was thin and undeveloped, and if I were still attracted to that there would be a problem. But no, now she's a woman in every sense of the word, and I'm still getting used to her like this. It happened in the blink of an eye - the last time I saw her she was a scrawny teen. Now, she's anything but that.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't stop thinking about her. I'm mostly hard in my pants and I feel like a total ass, but tell myself that I have to get release somehow. So I get up, lock the door, and jerk off as quietly as I can while regrettably thinking about what I just caught her doing.

A soft knock on the door yanks me out of my come-down, and I open my eyes as my breath regulates. "Yeah?"

"I'm done in there," she says, her voice somewhat muffled. "I… I'm sorry again."

"It's nothing," I say, balling up a wad of Kleenex and shoving it into my sweatpants pocket to throw away later. I don't want her knowing what I was up to.

"So, you can get in now," she says, lingering. "I'll leave you to it."

"Sounds good."

The rest of the day passes slowly and uneventfully. I'm in a fog from last night, and April seems to be purposefully avoiding me. She's polite, but removed. I don't know how to interact with her when she's acting this way, so I just choose not to. This morning with rejecting her and later with catching her in the shower… neither of those things add up to comfortable conversation. So today, I keep to myself and stay quiet in the guest room.

I come downstairs when I get hungry and the sun starts to go down, thinking that I'll make myself some dinner without bothering her. But I find her already downstairs, in a dress no less, her face made up and hair curled to perfection.

She's sitting at the dining room table looking at her phone when I walk in, and I'm sure she notices the second I take to study her getup.

"What are you all dressed up for?" I ask.

"Oh," she says, looking up from her phone. "I have a date."

For some reason, that catches me off guard. I've taken all the steps in squashing the embers of a romantic relationship with her, so I have no right whatsoever to be upset, but lately, my specialty hasn't exactly been rationality.

"Hmm," I say, walking past her into the kitchen.

"Hmm?" she mimics. "What's that mean?"

"Nothing," I say. "What's his name?"

I hear the sound of her setting her phone down. "Matthew," she says.

"Where'd you meet him?" I ask.

She lets out an annoyed little sound. "Yoga, this morning. If you must know."

"Nice," I say. "Where are the pots?"

She points. "Under the oven," she says.

I pull one out and turn on the sink to fill it with water. "What are you guys gonna do?" I say.

"He's taking me out to dinner," she says. "Zazio's."

"Fancy," I say, shutting the water off and setting the pot on the range.

"I guess," she says.

"Well, you're sure dressed up for it," I say.

"Right," she says. "What are you doing tonight?"

I turn around and look at her. "This," I say.

She looks at me with a guarded expression, and I can tell there are things she wants to say but isn't saying. Probably a lot of them, too. Questions unasked, comments unsaid. And judging by her stubbornness and mine, they'll stay that way.

"Sounds relaxing," she says, then pauses for a moment. "Listen, Jackson, about earlier… I-" The sound of the doorbell ringing cuts her off, and her eyes light up. "Oh, that must be him." She gets up from her spot at the table and disappears into the foyer, and I hear her cordial voice once she opens the door. Her words are impossible to make out from this far away, but I do my best in trying. I can't get anything specific, I just hear her sounding polite and happy.

I wait for the sound of the door closing, but I hear footsteps coming closer instead. Suddenly, a very tall man appears in the entryway and April looks tiny in comparison to him. I don't know why I picture it right off the bat, but I cringe when I imagine then intimately. He's a big guy. He'd break her hips.

I shudder at the thought.

"I just have to grab my purse," she tells him, smiling over her shoulder. My gut twists at the way her eyes sparkle in his direction, joined by my skin heating up when he makes her laugh by something he says that I can't quite catch. "This is Jackson, by the way," she says. "My friend. And roommate now, I guess." She giggles a bit at herself. I don't know why she's so giggly - it's not like her. This isn't her. "Jackson, this is Matthew."

I force a smile that I'm sure looks pained. "Nice to meet you," I say, but stay planted where I am without any effort to cross and shake his hand. I already can't stand the guy, and he hasn't said a word to me yet.

"You as well," he says, smiling. I don't give one back, and I can feel April's eyes on me.

She's not happy with me, I can tell that much. But I don't care. I'm suddenly in a horrible mood, and I don't want to be looking at this guy's face for one more second.

"Okay, well we're heading out," she says, her voice short. "Don't wait up."

"Mm-hmm," I say, and turn back towards my pot of boiling water.

After they leave, the water isn't the only thing that's boiling. I'm angry at myself mostly, for feeling this much about a stupid date she's going on. She's not my property. We haven't seen each other in over a decade. I hadn't wanted her to wait up for me, and I told her just hours ago that we couldn't be a thing. So how can I be mad now that she's interested in someone else? I have no right to be mad. I know that.

But it doesn't change the fact that I'm so jealous I can't see straight.

I don't want his eyes on her in her pretty pink dress. I don't want his arm around her waist or her hand in his. I don't want his jacket around her shoulders and I especially don't want his lips on hers.

I imagine myself going up to him after April's told him goodnight and telling him the person I know she was thinking about today in the shower while touching herself. That person was me, and I'd love for this Matthew guy to know that.

I barely touch my pasta and put most of it in a Tupperware container to store in the fridge. I turn on the TV in the living room and am thankful for the subtitles, because that way I can sit a normal distance away without having to read everyone's lips when the talking gets quiet.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I'm woken up by the sound of the front door closing and April's heels on the hardwood floor as she heads inside. As I open my eyes, I can smell her perfume as she appears next to the couch.

"Oh, hey," she says, lifting her purse from her shoulder. "Did I wake you? You should go up to bed."

"Why?" I say, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. "You gonna invite him in? So you he can fuck you on the same couch I did? I can move, by all means."

I regret what I said as soon as I say it. Her face changes; she looks shocked and aghast, she even takes a step away from me.

"That was mean," she says, her mouth turning down in a frown. "That was really gross of you, Jackson."

I shake my head, rubbing my temples. "I'm sorry," I say. "I didn't mean it, I-"

I can see that her eyes are glistening with tears, and now I really feel like an ass. I shouldn't have said it, but it just flew out. Sometimes I can't control what comes out of my mouth.

"I had a nice time tonight," she says. "And I know you want to ruin it for me. But I won't let you." She sighs forcefully. "You can't tell me you don't want to sleep with me, then condemn me for going out with someone else." She shakes her head, and her curls bounce. "That's not fair. And you know it."

I sit forward on the cushion, looking at her desperately. I don't want to fight with her, because we've never fought before. I've never said something that nasty to her, and I don't want to start now. She didn't deserve it. I let my temper take over, which I shouldn't have done.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I know, it was wrong."

I do know it was wrong, but I'm still hurt she went out with Matthew. I can't put into words the reason why, but it doesn't change the fact that that feeling is there.

"It was wrong," she says, voice wavering. Shit, she's going to cry. And it's going to be my fault. "And it hurt my feelings."

I stand up and walk over to her, but she crosses her arms over her chest to close her body off.

"You're jealous," she says, spitting the words at me. "And whatever… but don't take it out on me."

I'm blanched by the fact that she just came out and said it, laid my emotions so flat out and bare. I shouldn't refute it, because she's right, but I still want to.

"No, I'm not," I say.

She gives me a look with her still-shiny eyes. "Yeah, okay," she says, voice waterlogged. "You don't like seeing me with someone else. You told me you hadn't wanted me to hold out, but now you do. Now that you're back you just… you can't expect me to turn my whole life around for you when you pushed me away last night. I can't do that. I don't even know how."

I'm at a loss for words. I can't tell her the real reason why I pushed her away, because I don't want to scare her. I don't want her to see me differently - as a person changed by war. I want to be the same person I always was for her, even though I'm definitely not the teenager she last saw when we were seventeen.

"I-I know," I say, finding it hard to meet her eyes.

Her pinpointing my mistakes and exposing them reminds me that still, after all this time, no one knows me better than she does.

"I'm just… it caught me off guard because…" I'm struggling for words, struggling to find something to fill this weird silence. "Because of the promise, you know?"

She squints her eyes. "The promise?"

Once again, it was our senior summer. The summer that seemingly everything that had been waiting to happen between us tried to happen.

It was a couple weeks after I'd broken up with Steph. April and I were outside in my backyard, a few feet away from the jungle gym where we'd first bonded, waiting for the Fourth of July fireworks to start. Turns out, my house had the perfect view, so we found our way here every year.

She was wearing denim shorts and a hoodie from Warner Camp, where she'd been a counselor last year. Not this year, because she needed to work at the movie theater to save up some money. Luckily, I worked at the grocery store right across the street and we saw each other on our breaks.

The sky began to get darker and she wrapped her arms around her legs to try and keep herself warm. I noticed she was cold and waved her over, spreading my knees so she could sit between them and lean back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around hers and ran my hands down her skin to make the goosebumps disappear, and she settled into me.

"Much better," she said, turning her head so I could see the pleased expression on her face.

"Good," I said, keeping her close.

She paused for a moment. "Do you think you'll come back here for the summers?" she asked.

"I don't know, Angel," I answered truthfully. I had no idea what tomorrow would look like, no less my life at school. I was scared of how much would change, and I knew she was, too. I didn't like talking about it, but that's how April resolved things and made herself feel better. By talking things through.

My solution was always the opposite, albeit less productive, way.

"I hope you do," she said. "Because I probably will. And I don't want this to be the last time we do this, you know?"

She turned her head back to face forward and rested against my collarbone. I wanted nothing more than to drop a kiss on her temple or her cheek, but I was too scared. I didn't know what she'd think, so I stayed still.

"I know," I said, because it was true. I didn't want this to be our last anything. I was going to miss her like crazy, I couldn't imagine what my life would look like without her in it every single day. It was going to suck.

"We should make a promise," she said, a smile in her voice.

"Like what?" I asked.

She capped her hands over both of my knees. "If neither of us are dating anyone or like, married, by the time we're… thirty, we try dating each other."

She looked back at me with a smile, eyes lit up.

"That'd work," I said, nodding.

"You have to say you promise," she said.

"Are you gonna make me spit in my palm and shake yours like when we were kids?" I asked, laughing.

"No," she said, tone turning serious. "But you have to say you promise."

I paused for a minute, just watching her watch me. "I promise," I said.

When the first firework went off above our heads, she turned her eyes to the sky to watch, and the red light shone on her face. I'd never wanted to kiss anyone so bad.

"The promise," I say. "That we made when we were kids."

She pinches her lips and I can see her jaw clench. "Jackson, we were seventeen when we said that," she says, shaking her head slightly. "We were kids. We… we had no idea what real life was like. What it would throw us. It's just… that's not realistic anymore, and I know you know that." She lifts one hand and picks at her nails, staring at them instead of making eye contact with me. "You're not making any sense."

"Why?" I ask.

She widens her hazel eyes. "Because!" she says, throwing her hands up. "You pushed me away, and now you want me. That's called being confusing, Jackson!" She turns around, then turns back. "You just want me now because you saw me with someone and you got jealous. You want me because you can't have me."

I shake my head now. "That's not it," I say. "I've always…" I cut myself off. I can't finish, though she's staring at me and waiting. "Nothing," I say.

The expression on her face is desperate. "I don't know what to say to you," she says softly. "Things are different now. That's obvious. I was silly to think that we'd just go right back to the way things were, that was a dumb thought. We're older now, we're not kids, and… and… we have to get to know each other all over again."

"April, if me living here isn't gonna work out-"

"No," she says, extending one palm. "I didn't say that. You're still welcome here, I would never kick you out." She gives me a meaningful look, and her face softens. "I just… it's hard, you being here and… all those feelings from years ago… I…" She sighs, unable to put together a coherent sentence. "I don't know what I'm trying to say," she admits.

But I understand her. I don't understand myself, but I understand her. I want her, but I know I can't have her. I want her, but I know I'll only hurt her. I want her, but I know in the long-run, she probably won't want me.

Because she's right. We're not the same people we were fifteen years ago. And once she gets to know the man I am now, my guess is that she probably won't like him.

"I'm sorry for lashing out," I say, tying up the loose ends of the conversation. That's what it comes down to. It's much messier than that, but I can apologize for that much right now. That's what I can handle.

"Thank you," she says. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, you know, with Matthew over here."

I turn the corners of my lips down and shake my head, acting like it was no big deal. "I'll live," I say.

We spend a moment just looking at each other before I see her chest rise and fall with a sigh. "I… I should get to bed," she says. "I have to be at the hospital bright and early tomorrow."

I nod. "Sleep well," I say.

"Are you?" she asks, and I don't know why. It's just the caretaker in her, I guess. "Are you going up soon?"

"I don't know," I say. "Maybe."

She doesn't need to know that I probably won't sleep a wink tonight.