Tuesdays are better than Mondays, but this Tuesday I was not looking forward to. Throughout the entire day all I could think about was Jon. He skipped work that day to go to Sander's wife's house and pay his respect to the family. He wanted me to skip too. He begged me too, but I just couldn't. My father would knew something was up. My heart ached for him. Besides, I was already going to the wake tomorrow and the funeral on Thursday. There's only so much time I can spend with him and have no one notice.

The first thing I did when I walked into school was go up to the last class I had yesterday which of course was pre-calc. Thankfully, the teacher had found my phone and put it in his desk. At least something was going my way today. After school I did ride to his apartment. He was drinking a scotch on rocks and smoking a cigarette. Two huge red flags were up. I walked over to him in my little heels and put both hands on his face. I turned it up to me and his red bloodshot eyes stared dully back. I sighed. He looked like a washed up artist. He hadn't bothered to shave in a few days and he had a pretty decent beard going.

"Get up." I said, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

"I-I don't know where we go." he slurred.

I lead him into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I wasn't going to just let him sit there and mope. It was no good for him and I knew that. If he didn't dwell on it, he'd heal quicker. I stripped him down to his boxers and shoved him into the shower.

"Shampoo and condition your hair and wash with the body wash on the side of the tub. When I come back in here in ten minutes you better be done."

I know what you're thinking. Wow, what a freaking bitch. And honestly, if I was reading this I would be thinking the same thing. Was I harsh? Yes. Of course I was. I don't think you guys understand though. If I wasn't harsh with him he would have stayed drunk for a week or two, moping in his own self pity and grieving horribly without ever really mourning. He probably wouldn't have gone to the wake let alone the funeral and he would have been even more depressed than he already is. It's a little thing called tough love, and it works wonders in the end.

I picked out some jeans and a t-shirt and put on a pot of coffee. Last thing I wanted to do was make him feel uncomfortable. When I came back into the bathroom he was turning the water off. I handed him a towel through the curtain and when he said he was ready I handed him a pair of clean boxers. He came out of the shower and I smiled for two reasons. One, his wet hair had been spiked into an ill fitted mohawk and two, because he needed it. I was trying to tell him I was there for him and that I wasn't going anywhere. I know, a lot to say in a smile. He got dressed and I sat him down on the toilet seat. I was too afraid that he would cut himself so I shaved his face, which might I add is a lot harder to shave than legs would ever be.

He started to look like himself again and I made him a cup of coffee. Black, two sugars. Just the way he likes it. I got him two asprin and looked him in the eyes. I could tell he was sobering up. He smiled up at me.

"Thank you." his voice was low.

I kissed his forehead and sat across from him. His hand reached across the table for mine and I squeezed it. There was Jon. He looked at me like he always did and the butterflies stirred. I'd do anything for you, I thought.

After an hour we were standing in the florist's ordering some flowers to be sent to Mrs. Sanders. Jon picked up a small white rose and tossed it on the counter.

"Put this on the bill too."

I looked at him, confused, but he just smirked. After he paid he turned to me and put the rose in my hair. He smiled down at me.

"I love you." he whispered.

"I love you too."

After getting a judgmental look from the cashier we headed back to his apartment and sat on the couch. He wrapped his arms around me and took me into him. I didn't know who needed who more and I didn't care.

"What do you think when you're with me?" Jon asked, rubbing his thumb across my hand.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, do you think, I'm hugging a thirty three year old and this is weird?"

"Do you think, 'I'm embracing a sixteen year old and this is illegal?" I asked him

"No, not really."

"You're not 'my thirty three year old boyfriend'." I explained. "Your Jon, the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the guy I love falling asleep next to at night."

He smiled and squeezed me tighter.

"You always have the most perfect things to say."

He kissed my neck and I smiled. His face was smooth and it had been a while since I felt him like this. I leaned back against him and I could feel him letting go. Little by little, surely, but that's all I could ever ask for.

$%^$)*^^&)(

The wake was hard for him. I had spent the entire day worrying about him, but when I met him out front he was in a suit, cologne on, and hair done. I was relieved. I sat next to him and held his hand. The wife and kids were up front, crying. Jon was asked to say a few words. He stood up at the podium and looked out across all of the people who had loved his friend. His face was serious.

"Sanders was a good soldier and an even better man. He was always the one person that you could expect to make you laugh. He was a friend." Jon swallowed and held back tears "He was a husband and a father. He was a soldier and a hero. He was a soldier and a friendly face. He died serving his country. He died protecting what he loved. But I know Sanders and I know that he wouldn't want us sitting here and taking pity on him." Jon smiled and looked at the portrait "He'd want us to be celebrating his life, not mourning his death. So tonight and tomorrow I say we celebrate a great man's life. The way he would have wanted it."

Jon always got nervous during public speaking and today was no different. He made his awkwardly down from the podium and the line formed to say final farewells. I took his hand.

"Are you going to be alright?" I whispered

He nodded. We sat through the rest of the ceremony and he paid his respects to Mrs. Sanders once more before we drove back home. As he took off his tie and suit I called home.

"Hello?" came my mother's voice

"Hi, Mommy." I said with a smile.

"Mon petite chou! Ca va?" I loved it when she spoke in french.

"Ca va bien, merci. Can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course."

"Tomorrow is going to be a pointless day at school. The day before the beginning of vacation and you know as well as I do that it's going to be filled with nothing but pointless movies. Alyssa doesn't have to go tomorrow because she got permission. We really need to work on our project... do you mind if I skip tomorrow?"

"You have no exams tomorrow?"

"Nope." It was a lie. I had a physics test, but I could make it up.

"Then alright."

"Merci, Mama."

"Goodnight."

Jon came over with a smile and wrapped his arms around me in a backwards hug. He kissed my neck and I felt bumps ripple down my spine. I smiled and turned my head to look at him. His eyes met mine only seconds before his lips. This kiss was different. It was not filled with passion or love. It was filled with gratitude and needing. He needed me here with him. I turned around and kissed him correctly, I was never really good with angles. His arms slithered around me tighter and he smiled into the kiss. The white rose fell from my hair and got caught on his shirt. I smiled and looked into his eyes. I could get used to this.

We both eventually fell asleep, his arms wrapping me in a sideways backwards hug under the sheets. I felt protected and secure. He was just happy to have something to hold on to. I felt something digging lightly into my back. I awoke and turned my head to see Jon's eyes wide open, looking down at my back. The clock behind him read three in the morning. He didn't notice I had stirred and if he did, he didn't seem to care.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled, still half asleep.

"Shhh," he said continuing, "Don't ruin the surprise."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm writing you an invisible love letter on your back."

"Jon, it is three in the morning."

"Actually, it's three sixteen."

"Exactly!"

"Dear Bethanny,

I know we haven't know each other for long but I just want to know that you are a thief. You've stolen my heart, my body, and mind. Don't worry, I don't want it back. You can keep it. I just need to make sure you're going to take care of it.

Love,

Jon."

I felt his finger etch every word onto my back. The silence that followed was deafening. I turned around and put both hand on his shoulders and my forehead against his.

"Dear Jon,

I regret to inform you that I have stolen nothing."

A serious frown formed on his face and I smiled

"For I rightfully own these three items. You see, you have stolen my heart, body, mind, and soul. I was just taking what I had lost in the first place.

With love and care,

Bethanny."

The air between us was warm and I felt his frown mold into a smile as he chuckled. He kissed my cold nose and we fell back asleep, this time to not be woken up until the sun rose.