Jackson
As the jet thudded on the ground, April rustled awake. She pulled her eye mask from her face, her auburn hair scrunched up under the satin. It was funny, all her excitement of being on a jet quickly wore off as she slept through the entire flight; only after drinking a glass of champagne first, of course.
"That was the best sleep I've gotten on a plane. Ever." April yawned, stretching her legs in the ample space in front of her seat.
I chuckled lightly, committing to memory the messy carefree April that sat before me. "I would hope so." She pulled the eyemask off her head, quickly sliding it into her purse. Running a hand through her hair, she fluffed the portions that fell flat, twirling tendrils back and away from her face.
The door opened, cold air breezing in. Snow drifted down in gentle sheets, tiny flakes piling on top of one another in the night. "We just need to walk to the car." I grabbed the coat that hung over the edge of the seat, opening it up for April to slide her arms into easily.
"Thanks," she murmured. After thanking each of the hostesses and the pilots and wishing them a happy Thanksgiving, April slowly climbed down the metal stair and onto the tarmac. Catherine's assistant was waiting at the bottom, his navy blue overcoat flapping in the wind.
The drive to my mother's penthouse was silent, mostly because April fell asleep again once in the car. I watched as the shadows of trees turned to a concrete jungle that was blurred by the haze the snow provided.
When the car finally pulled into the valet of the luxury apartment building in the heart of Boston, it was past midnight. A weary April received an abridged tour of the penthouse, as I dropped her stuff in her room. The second my mother stopped talking, she scurried for her things, preparing for her nighttime routine.
I let her use the bathroom first, steam flowing out of the tiled room as I stepped in afterward. The bright lights burned my tired eyes as I looked in the mirror. I rubbed my face, reminding myself the day was almost done. I looked for a spot to place my pajamas, tiny glass pots of face creams, and exfoliants littered the counter, one pink toothbrush and a travel-sized toothpaste resting beside them. I scooched the skincare products to the side, squeezing my clean clothes at the edge, before stepping under the stream of water.
The lights were still on when I emerged from the bathroom. April basked in the warm yellow glow of the overhead fixture, moving around haphazardly with a pen in her hand.
"This is my potential break up song," she sang softly, as she bobbed her head back and forth. The music on her phone whispered in the empty room. The track ended, and another began. More break-up songs.
"I hope you're not trying to tell me something." April jumped in her seat, scrambling to pause the music. I smiled down at her, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek.
"Oh my gosh! You scared me."
"Sorry, didn't mean to creep up on you like that, but you were in the zone. I thought you'd be asleep." She turned the page, scribbling notes in the margins as she read. I grabbed a different packet, turning over the rubric to read the essay. "Nah. The two naps I took screwed with my sleep schedule."
"So, what's with all the breakup music?"
"Don't worry, babe. It's not about you." I smirked, grabbing a pen of my own. I looked through the essay grading only for format. "Leah just ended things with her boyfriend, so she's been coming in during lunch to blast her breakup playlist. Jo and Stephanie sometimes join us if they don't have a club meeting." I picked up her phone, starting the song again.
"This is explicit, April." Boys Ain't Shit traveled across the screen, dimming after a few seconds. "There's literally a swear word in the title."
April blushed, a little shy after being exposed. "She's just so sad, so I let it fly."
I looked at her, a little shocked. April blinked rapidly, flashing me an awkward smile. "What?" she questioned
"I didn't think you'd be chill about that."
She clicked her tongue against her teeth, a sharp staccato admonishing me for my assumption. "I can be cool sometimes. Honestly, can you imagine having your heart broken at fourteen? I didn't even want to talk to boys at that age, let alone date them. Kids these days grow up so fast." With a wiggle of her shoulders, she got back to grading, flipping back and forth between the messy essay and the rubric.
"Speak for yourself. I had my first girlfriend in kindergarten. We kissed under the blue slide, and then she broke up with me." April snickered, placing her free hand over her mouth in shame.
"Hey, don't laugh at my heartbreak," I teased, before releasing a yawn. April caught my eyes, green-hazel iris shimmering in the light.
"You don't have to stay up with me, Jackson. I'll be fine."
"I feel bad. I'll just finish this stack, and then I'll be out of you hair. Do you have to do this all tonight?"
"Uhhh," she trailed, "technically no, because the grading period ends in December, but I've already had these essays for a week. I don't want to procastinate. We're already halfway through our next unit. I also told them that I would have grades posted on Friday."
I flipped through a student's packet, horrified at the mess I saw. Black lines with tiny words crammed into the margin comprised a majority of the essay itself. "April, how do you read this?" I stared at the incoherent sentence that traveled down the page, wondering when to switch between the two sides.
She bit the back of her pen, shrugging. "I don't know. You just do."
"So 'Occasionally, emotions allow humans to exclude or ignore facts that inhibit certain choices resulting in
..." I squinted, trying to make sense of the black blob on the page, "'emotions severely compromise the evidence available to deliberate leading to misguided choices' makes sense to you." April stuck her hand out, and I handed her the essay.
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two margins, skimming the words. "Ah! What they wrote was 'Occasionally, emotions allow humans to exclude or ignore facts that inhibit certain choices resulting in decisions and actions based upon immoral ideologies. Emotions guide humans through certain situations, yet emotions severely compromise the evidence available to deliberate leading to misguided choices.' I think you missed the part that wasn't in the margins."
April's brows furrowed as she reread the thesis, quickly underlining and circling words and phrases according to her grammar key. The corners of my mouth pulled into a small grin seeing April in her element.
When I placed the final essay on the stack, I dropped my pen on the table, stretching my arms behind me. April peeked at me, a tired smile on her face. While I was finished, she was barely halfway through the essays. I walked behind her, hands caressing her shoulders. "Don't stay up too late." I dropped a kiss to her head. April leaned against me, her movements a little sluggish.
"I won't." As I retreated down the hallway, I heard her whispering the lyrics to her self.
The streets of Boston were filled with cars as the sun rose through the sky. I sat at the breakfast counter attached to the oversized island in the kitchen, sipping my coffee as I read the news. My mother walked in, opening the cupboard to grab a mug.
"I am surprised April is not up already. Wasn't she raised on a farm?" She moved around the kitchen, picking up the pot of coffee I brewed earlier and poured herself a cup.
"It's probably the time difference, and she was up late last night grading papers."
"It's Thanksgiving!" she quipped.
"I know. A teacher's job is never done." I shrugged. Overworked, underpaid, and often unappreciated, I wondered how people even found themselves in education in the first place. Besides trying to make a change in the future, I questioned my decision from time to time. Compared to the fancy surgeons and doctors that comprised of my family tree, teaching seemed so low end compared to them, and at times it felt that way too. Combined with the rise in school shootings, the continuous gutting of school budgets, and the lack of reform to solve both issues, education had become quite an unappealing profession. Despite all these drawbacks, there were moments where all my work felt worth it. While saving a life was cool, being able to help a child build their self-esteem, or develop life skills necessary for success and watch their lives begin was equally if not more rewarding.
"Well, I know she is working hard. I haven't seen you do anything in the last day. You have not even checked your emails since you came to Boston."
"English and History are different. She grades essays and checks to see if people actually understood the book and can write well. I put my test papers through a machine, and they all come out graded. I just need to make sure that people know what happened where, and why." Her face relaxed, a classic look of disappointment. "Don't look at me like that, ma. I'm working with what I'm given. Besides, I didn't have any major projects due before break. There's nothing for me to grade."
Her chocolate eyes stared me down over the edge of the white porcelain. "I'm going to go check on April. We have to start our day soon. I planned a lot of things."
I repeated her words back at her, a deadpan look on my face. "It's Thanksgiving, ma. Aren't we supposed to be relaxing and talking about what we're thankful for?"
A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes, lips pulled into a wide smile. "We are. And I am thankful for the hospital, and your grandfather. We are meeting him there after I give April a tour of Mass Gen."
"She's not even a doctor!"
"I just thought she should be able to see what makes a huge part of the Avery Foundation. A legacy you are a part of even though you chose to reject the family trade." I sighed, watching my mother saunter out of the room, before returning to the comic section I had abandoned before.
She tiptoed back in the kitchen, taking a seat next to me. "Your girlfriend sleeps like a log." Her bracelets clinked and chimed with her movement as she reached across the marbled expanse of the counter for her cup.
"Again, she's tired. Just let her sleep."
"No, I mean she stiff when she's asleep."
"What are you doing?" I joked. "Watching her sleep?" A look of exaggerated concern washed over her face. I sighed, knowing where the conversation was headed.
"I wouldn't even have realized she was still in bed if her head wasn't peeking out from under the covers. Who pulls the comforter to under their chin?" I chuckled lightly, imagining April as a little girl doing the same thing. "She doesn't curl up with the blanket or hug a pillow. It is as if she knows she is alone in that bed even while she is unconscious." My mother shot me a glare. "I thought this was a problem that you already took care of, Jackson. The night you spent at her place." I rolled my eyes at her, earning a light slap on the arm for attitude.
"I told you that nothing happened then."
"I thought you just meant sex, but clearly I was mistaken. Are you two even dating?"
I shook my head, quickly hiding my face behind the loose pages of the newspaper. "Uh yes, we are. I spent the night in her guest room, and she's waiting until marriage to... you know? So, it would be nice if you cut it out with the sex talk."
Catherine let out a long oh, sipping on her coffee for a moment before speaking again. "There are other things to do in a bed besides sex."
"Boundaries!"
She sighed, "Well, you better wake her up soon before we are late."
I tossed the paper on the counter, wandering down the hall to April's room. I knocked gently on the door, quickly seeing what my mother was referencing. She looked peaceful, but an air of tension lingered under the surface. I sat by her, brushing my fingers against her hairline. April stirred under my touch, her hazy eyes slowly opening to meet mine. Blinking twice, she squinted at me.
"Jackson?" April looked around, confused until she remembered we were in Boston. I gave her room to sit up, the comforter dropping into her lap.
"Good morning, or really good afternoon. We have to leave soon. My mom wants to take you to Mass Gen for a tour before dinner."
"Oh, I didn't mean to sleep in. What time is it?"
"Ten past twelve. You're good. There's no need to worry about it."
"Give me ten minutes and I'll meet you downstairs." She kissed me on the cheek and whispered into my ear. "Pour me a cup of coffee?"
I smiled back at her, "Of course."
She skipped into the kitchen almost exactly ten minutes later, dressed in casual streetwear and simple makeup. Her hair was tied up and out of her face. "Good morning, Catherine. The apartment is gorgeous. I didn't really remember much about it last night, but it's so bright in here. I love the natural lighting."
My mother smiled at my girlfriend, absorbing the praise. "It is quite lovely, dear. We should drop by the cafe down the street before we head to the hospital."
My mother led us down the sterilized hall, and into the modern lobby. Colorful glass sculptures cast rainbows across the room, a stark contrast to the white snow that drizzled down from the sky outside.
"Welcome to Mass Gen. This is the main lobby. We recently renovated it. All the art that you see was done by local artists. We don't have time for me to show you every wing, but I have something special planned for us."
A couple of doctors rushed by, bidding my mother brief hellos. We walked up a flight of stairs and weaved our way through the doctors and nurses that littered the walkway. After introducing us to most of the urology department, touring the intensive care unit, and flaunting the newest technology, Catherine led us through a quiet hallway. "I thought that you should get to see some behind the scene views of what the hospital is." She pushed open the door, glass panes giving us a view of an open body.
"Dr. Avery," the head surgeon bellowed. "It's nice of you to join us."
She pressed on the intercom, "It's nice to be here, Dr. Kraus. I have some special guests observing today: my son and his girlfriend."
The doctor gave us a nod before returning his attention to the open cavity in front of him. April sank into the seat, face pale like a ghost.
"You feeling okay?"
She blinked twice, staring directly at the grisly scene before us. "I think I might be sick. I'm a little squeamish when it comes to blood."
I glanced at my mother who was talking over the intercom to the head surgeon. "Why don't we go to the cafeteria and get something to drink. You haven't eaten much today."
I told the intern next to me to tell my mother where we were when she was done. After an initial rejection, the doe-eyed girl reluctantly agreed when she realized I was also an Avery.
I apologized for my mother's oversight, letting April stop by the washroom to splash water on her face. As I leaned against the pillar, a familiar authoritarian rasp called my name.
"Grandpa, I thought we were meeting you later."
"My board meeting finished early, Jackie." April appeared behind him, a little spring in her step. Her cheeks were pinker than before, eyes a little brighter. She stopped at my side and grabbed her things, before turning to the aging Avery.
"Oh, hi. I'm April. Jackson's coworker." She stuck out her hand, which my grandfather ignored.
"Hello. I am Jackson's grandfather, Dr. Harper Avery. Catherine mentioned Jackie's friend would be joining us this year." He seemed disinterested, answering only the necessities. This wasn't rare, it was just how he talked, but the small talk April attempted was falling flat.
"Thank you so much for having me. I've never been to Boston before. It's beautiful."
"It is. Where is Catherine?"
I interjected, an awkward smile plastered on my face. "She was in observatory one."
"The kidney transplant with Dr. Kraus?"
"Yes. That is the one." As if on cue, I heard her voice thunder down the hallway.
"Harper," she smiled.
My grandfather grunted in return, turning on his heel to speak to his assistant. "I'll meet you at the restaurant. I have to stop by the Chief's office for a quick chat before I leave."
My mother nodded along, wrapping up her tour in the lobby as she called for the car.
"I'm sorry about that." April looked at me puzzled. "My grandfather. He's a bit cold."
April shrugged it off, wrapping her arms around mine, "Don't worry about it, Jackson."
"Just to warn you, the dinner is going to be mostly medical talk."
"Well," she smirked, " I guess we'll be clueless together." April dashed out the sliding doors behind my mom, snowflakes catching in her fiery curls.
Dinner was awkward, to say the least. Harper consistently reminded me of my legacy while April ate in silence. My mother steered the conversation to current administrative tasks, a topic so mind-numbing I almost fell asleep. By the time we returned home, Catherine was ready to turn in for the night.
April shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge. After a couple of moments, she pulled out a crate of strawberries. Shuffling around, she found a bar of imported chocolate. "I hope your mother doesn't mind. Where are the bowls?" I reached over her, opening the cupboard and grabbed two ceramic dishes.
"Can you melt the chocolate in the microwave while I cut these up?" I grabbed the bar from her, breaking the sweet into tiny chunks. "Melt it in thirty-second intervals." Following her instructions, my eyes watched her shuffle around as I waited, eventually met her on the other side of the kitchen island, the hot bowl in my hands. April handed me a fork, stabbing hers into a piece of fruit before dipping it into the melted chocolate.
She moaned after the first bite, sending a shock through my spine. "You have to try this." She held out a bite for me. "I need to know where your mom got this. It's so good."
I leaned in, April held my gaze as my lips wrapped around the piece of fruit. Her eyes widened before dropping down as she turned back to the bowl. A blush crept up her neck as my fingers trailed against her skin when I brushed her hair back. She cleared her throat, "This is a Kepner tradition. Well, not really, but I'm too lazy to make a fruit pie right now. This is sweet and has fruits. It works. Anyways, in my family, after dinner, we sit and eat dessert and talk about what we're thankful for. I know that this is your family, but I- we haven't talked about what we're thankful for at all today, so I just thought that this would be something nice to do. You don't have to do anything, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm thankful that I got to spend Thanksgiving with you and your family instead of spending it alone in Seattle." She ended her ramble with a sigh, eyes flittering across the room before settling on my face.
I pressed my lips to hers, the sweetness of the strawberries and the bitterness of the chocolate mingling between us. Popping another strawberry into my mouth, I murmured through the side of my mouth, "I'm glad that you agreed to come, even if it only was for the jet." April rolled her eyes, nibbling on the corner of the berry.
"I guess I really should be thanking your mom. I am thankful for your mom."
I scoffed lightly, "That makes one of us."
"Jackson," she scolded. "That's the most important relationship you have."
"I know, babe. I love her even though she drives me insane and constantly asks invasive questions about my sex life." At the mention of the word, April's skin went aflame. When she caught me snickering, her shock turned into mild irritation, shooting my a death glare and she stuffed her mouth. "Happy Thanksgiving, April." I raised a strawberry on my fork.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Jackson." April beamed at me, raising one chocolate dipped piece to tap to mine.
A/N
I don't know if anybody actually reads these lmao. I have a goal to finish this fic before I graduate. We'll see how that goes considering I'm a dum-dum who started a booktube channel. Flying in a jet is terrible for the environment, but this is fiction so I added it anyways. I strongly urge people to be conscious about their carbon footprint plz and thank u. I added a link for ways to help Lebanon in my bio. 2020 really isn't going our way. I wanted to discuss the cons of teaching considering teachers who are now writing eulogies for their funerals. I saw a tweet from a teacher that asked if she should keep her door open to improve air circulation in her class because of corona or if she should keep the door closed because of school shooters. I hate these are the options that teachers have to face. Luckily my school is doing distanced learning, but the US be wildin. Stay safe, and stay fresh cheese bags. I'll catch you next time.