JACKSON
Maybe. But not tonight.
I digest her words, and even though I have the worst case of blue balls ever, I nod in acceptance, making sure not to show my disappointment because the last thing I want to do is make her feel bad about making such an important decision.
April and I have been practically inseparable the last few months. Outside of the classes we don't have together, we're always in one other's vicinity. Instead of her riding to school with Whitt and Cristina, I'm the one who now picks her up and drops her home, and after our ACT prep course in the morning, we meet up between classes in the hall just to say hi and check in. We have lunch together and instead of April sitting with her old group of friends, she now sits with me and the basketball team and their girlfriends. During free periods we hang out in the library, and I can be sure that she's always at my practices, sitting in the bleachers finishing up on homework of her own. On the nights we don't study at either her house or mine, we talk on the phone, then text until one of us falls asleep. I'm really enjoying the time I'm spending with her, and even though she's not my first girlfriend, something about our relationship feels unlike any of the ones I've had in the past.
I've never actually come right out and called April my girlfriend. Not publicly, nor in private. It feels like we're not just hanging out, but dating, and hope she thinks the same of me. To anyone that observes us, I'm sure they assume that we are together. I know I'm not the type of person to be afraid to speak my mind, my parents taught me to always be outspoken, but it feels like if I say it aloud, somehow, I'll ruin what we have.
"Are you sure you're okay with us waiting?" she asks, her mouth parted slightly as she nervously awaits my answer.
I slowly drag my fingers from her waist so that I can envelope her in a hug, then lean in to kiss her passionately. An act to assure her that I'm okay with not having sex tonight, hoping she realizes that this in no way will change how I feel about her.
When I pull away, I make sure I look into her eyes. I want her to not only see, but feel my sincerity, and then I say it. "April, you're my girlfriend. I'll wait for you. I'm not going anywhere."
And at this moment, I don't think I've ever said truer words in my life.
...
"Jackson!"
Oblivious to the world around me, I jump when Whitt yells my name, frankly louder than he needs to as we're outside in the quad eating lunch and he's literally right across from me sitting next to Cristina at the table.
He sneers as he juts his chin in April's direction. "Could you do us all a favor, mainly me, and stop leering at my little sister?"
I draw my hand away from April's thigh, embarrassed that we'd been caught gazing into each other's eyes… again. Ever since the night we decided not to have sex, for some reason, she seems much more irresistible to me. Maybe it's because I know how badly I want her, but can't do anything about it. Or, it might be the fact that damn near every night since, I've been having the most intense sex dreams. My cold, wet, and sticky underwear upon waking up is proof positive of that.
"God! Shut up, Whitt. Can't you just leave us alone?" April pleads, her lower lip jutted out into a pout. I told her that she's extra cute when she's trying to look angry, and right now, all I wanna do is suck on it.
"Listen, tamp…" Whitt begins, but I quickly shoot him a look of warning that stops him dead in his tracks.
A few weeks ago, while April helped their mom with dinner, I cornered him in his room. Once he'd gotten over the awkwardness of me dating his baby sister, we came to a truce. On friendlier terms, and since I felt April and I were getting closer, I hoped to convince him to stop calling her that insulting nickname. Well, at least at school anyway. Not shockingly, he didn't take to my suggestion initially, telling me to butt out of their family business. I refused to back down about it, so I squared my shoulders and warned him that if he didn't quit, I'd be more than happy to tell the other guys on the team just what it was like with Cristina. Needless to say, he quickly changed his mind.
Honestly, it was an empty threat. I never had any intention of sharing those details. I was too much of a gentleman to share the intimates of what I'd done with Cristina, and while she probably wouldn't give two shits about me bragging about her, I couldn't do that to Whitt. I was just surprised when he caved so fast. Needless to say, I told him that we should keep our agreement between the two of us. As for April who was confused by Whitt's sudden change in behavior, he just told her that calling her by that nickname was starting to get old.
"Look here, Carrot Top..."
Okay, so he'd stopped calling her tampon. I shouldn't complain. Frankly, the new nickname was an improvement.
"... just because you and pretty boy are hooking up..."
"We're not hooking up!" she and I proclaim in unison.
"Yeah, sure. Whatever," he says with an eye roll, but I'm not sure if he believes us, not until Cristina opens her big mouth.
"Aww, Whitt, leave the lovebirds alone." she tells him, and I can practically hear the venom drip from her tongue. "Besides, they aren't lying. They haven't done it yet. Right, BD?" she adds with a wink, and in an instant, I know exactly where she's headed with her statement. It's also during times like these that I wonder why I dated her, or how we're such good friends now.
Surveying Cristina from across the table, I shake my head subtly, wordlessly asking her to stop before her wicked sense of humor starts something that could quickly become very awkward to explain to the Kepner siblings.
Thankfully, the end of lunch bell rings and I take hold of April's hand and steer her away from the table as we all depart and head to our respective classes. It isn't long before we are out of sight from Whitt and Cristina when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I know exactly who's texting me and unlock it, making sure to keep the screen tilted so that April can't see.
RECEIVED 11:50am- aww don't be a grump bd
Abating my anger, I answer with dexterity using only my thumb to type.
SENT 11:50am- stop starting shit bd
RECEIVED 11:51am- just stating the obvious
SENT 11:51am- how the fuck would you know we havent had sex yet
RECEIVED 11:52am- because she's still walking straight LOL
I snort at her observation. First because it's ridiculous to think someone can tell if we're fucking or not by April's gait, and second because, well, what guy wouldn't appreciate the compliment.
"What's so funny?" April asks as she cranes her neck to see what I'm looking at, effectively pulling my attention from the convo I'm having with Cristina.
There's no way I can tell her what we're talking about, so I fib. "Just a meme someone sent me," I say nonchalantly as I shove the phone back in my pocket, then plant a kiss atop her head before we split into different directions.
When I reach my history class, before I open up my book to the page indicated on the dry erase board, I shoot Cristina one last text.
SENT 11:59- bitch
Knowing it'll only be seconds before she responds, I'm amused by her answer which is simply a middle finger, followed by a laugh emoji, and just like that, I know that we're all good, as it always will be.
…
We're fully into the Spring semester and so many new challenges are headed our way. April and I are formally a couple recognized by the student body. I started noticing the change when girls that used to flirt with me in the halls have suddenly stopped. Sure, there's always going to be one or two that'll test the boundaries, but for the most part, when people talk about us, we're simply known as, Japril. A moniker that Cristina coined to make fun of us, and one that I officially hate.
April and I are stressed and have been putting in extra hours studying for the upcoming ACTs. Well, when we're not making out that is, and to top it off, the basketball team made it to the statewide championship, so I had to allot any spare time I had to practice in the gym, perfecting my arc from the three-point line, April, my personal cheerleader, always in my line of sight.
The night of the game, I'm on fire, and our team is working like a well-oiled machine. We're anticipating each other's moves, and Whitt and I are perfectly in sync. April and Whitt's mom, and both my parents are in attendance and for once, mine appears as if they're genuinely enjoying each other's company. The hometown crowd is roaring for us but that's not what's got me so hyped. No, that honor belongs only to April.
I don't know how, but I can hear her screaming my name from the stands, encouraging me more clearly than any other voice, and the frantic beating of my heart is not due to the physical demands of the game, but because of the excitement I feel for her. Of knowing that she's mine.
We end up winning by twenty points, all but dominating in the paint, and when the throng of people descend from the bleachers to congratulate us, I push my way past them all so that I can get to the only person I want to celebrate this moment with.
"Baby, you were great! I'm so proud of you!" she yells to me over the din of the crowd.
Out the corner of my eye, I see my parents scrambling to reach me, but I don't care. I grip hold of April's waist firmly then lean in to kiss her, and I swear, it's like I go temporarily deaf because I can't hear anyone around us. Only a hard slap on the back from Whitt jolts me back to our surroundings as he shoves the championship trophy into my hands which I hoist over my head to the thunderous cheers of those around me.
The rest of the evening we spend celebrating with friends. Along with Whitt and Cristina, we start off by having dinner at a local restaurant with our family, then leave them to hit up several house parties. Cristina volunteered to be our designated driver tonight so that Whitt and I could have a couple of celebratory beers, which inevitably turn into five, then six. I'm not stupid drunk, but I do have a very nice buzz going. I'm overly affectionate when I drink, so it's no surprise that I'm stuck like glue to April as we dance the night away. She is pressed up so close to me that I can feel every curve of her body, and all I can think is how beautiful she is, and how good she smells, and how sweet her tongue tastes.
My breath is heavy on her neck as I start to kiss a line from her collarbone to just behind her ear that always makes her moan.
"Jackson," she whispers to me, "not here."
And I know what she means. These are the things we do in private, but I can't help myself. My dick is so hard and I feel like I'm about to burst. Tonight has to be one of the most amazing nights of my life and all I want to do is be alone with her.
I move back just enough that she can get a good look at me. I don't know if it's the alcohol that emboldens me, but I can't help it. I have to tell her.
"April? I think I love you."
"What?" she says faintly, almost as if she can't believe what I just said.
"I-I think I love you. I want you so bad, April. I only want to be with you." I practically beg.
She's still for a moment, and I think that she's about to tell me to go to hell, when she says the words back to me.
"I think I love you too." she utters timidly.
Both our expressions alight with great elation, she cradles my cheek in her hand.
"Jackson," she whispers, then says three words I've been longing to hear, "take me home."
APRIL
A couple years ago, I made this whole playlist for when I eventually had sex for the first time. I had to name it something innocuous so no one would guess by looking at the title, so I just named it with a few red heart emojis. The truth of the matter is that I thought I'd be like, 25 when I lost my virginity, I hadn't expected to utilize the playlist so soon after making it - but being in love will make you do crazy things.
And I am so, so in love. I've never felt like this before in my entire life, so it has to be love. I have no idea what else it could be. Jackson takes over my every thought when we're together and when we're not. I have Polaroids of us together and him alone taped to my mirror, the inside of my locker, the front cover of my planner, and slipped inside the back of my clear phone case. I am in so deep, and I don't ever want it to stop.
Tonight's the night, too. He just won a huge basketball game and we're both a little tipsy, and I'm ready. I want him, and he loves me. I love him too, of course. Isn't that all you need to be with someone? If the past few months have taught me anything, it's that love is stronger than I thought. It's strong enough to make me push aside any previous plans I had for my sexual future, for maybe waiting until I was in college, because I'm ready now.
I don't know when Whitt will get home, and my mom is probably already there - so I don't know what to do when we break apart from each other long enough to clamber inside Jackson's car.
"My mom's home," I breathe, reaching across the console for him. I'm driving, since I've only had one drink and he's had… well, more than that. I take both of his hands and intertwine our fingers, and he looks at me with dilated pupils.
"Go to mine," he says. "My parents are probably at the club." He laughs. "Country club. Not the club club."
I laugh along with him and adjust the seat, pulling it almost all the way forward from where it had been situated all the way back. I move the rearview mirror, buckle in, and get settled in the seat that feels entirely too big for me.
"You are so fucking cute," Jackson says, taking my jaw to turn my head. He kisses me on both cheeks, which makes me smile.
"No, you are," I whisper, taking two handfuls of the collar of his shirt. "Now, stop distracting me while I drive your giant car. I don't want to crash us. If you remember correctly, I only have my permit and you aren't my guardian, which means this is illegal, so you really need to shush."
"My girl is a criminal," he says, taking my hand to kiss my knuckles.
"I said shush!" I giggle, pulling carefully away from the party house we'd been at.
I make my way to his house at a crawl. The whole time, I don't go over 25, and I know he wants to make fun of me - but he doesn't. He stays quiet and lets me concentrate. That is, until I finally shift the car into park, turn it off, and get out.
"Baby, I need you," he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I need you so bad, please… let's go in."
I laugh and lean against him, tipping forward to lift my heels off the ground. "Geez, tell me how you really feel," I say, slipping my hands up the back of his shirt to lay them on his skin - it's hot to the touch. "Let's go."
His parents are gone - he was right. The house is dark and we don't bother turning on any lights. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs, and I gladly and willingly follow. My whole body is buzzing with what's about to happen, and my heart is practically hammering out of my chest by the time we make it to his room and he shuts the door.
I sit on the edge of the bed and wonder what the next step is. Yes, we've done a lot of making out. We've gotten close a handful of times, but it's never been the right time, like it is right now. Like I think now is, at least. So, I don't know what to do next.
I slip my shoes off and rest one of my feet over the other. He locks his bedroom door and stands in the middle of the room, eyeing me with his hands in his pockets. I'm really hoping he knows what the next step is and hasn't been overtaken by shyness like I have, because someone has to drive this boat.
"I don't know what to do now," I whisper, tucking my hair behind my ears. All the bravado I exuded during the party and even in the car is gone now, disappeared. I've never felt more like me, like small little meek April Kepner, waiting for something to happen.
"I do," he replies, just as softly.
He sits beside me and looks me in the eye. I smile when he does, and he holds my chin between his thumb and first finger. "What," I say.
"You're so beautiful," he tells me. "Sit on my lap, baby."
With my hands braced on his shoulders, I straddle his hips and lower my weight. I feel his erection insistent between us, and get the urge to touch it. For the first time, I don't resist the urge, either. I lower my hand and cup the bulge in his pants, gently squeezing, and I know I'm doing something right. His forehead drops to my chest and he groans, long and drawn out.
"Shit," he sighs.
He circles my waist with both arms and gathers the fabric of my dress, pulling it over my head once he has enough of it. It ruffles my hair as it comes off over my head, and I'm left in just a pair of pink underwear and a white bra. Not very sexy, but I hadn't been expecting this when I got dressed earlier.
I take a deep breath as he kisses the cups of my bra, closing his lips over the sheeny material. We've done this before, maybe just once or twice. I'm not used to it. All these feelings are new, and all of them are completely overtaking my body. I don't know how to handle them.
He winds his hands around my back and undoes the clasp of my bra with a simple twist. I can't help but wonder how he's so good at that; I can't even do it that well. I don't open my mouth, though. It isn't the time.
Now, we're in uncharted territory. I've never been shirtless and braless in front of him. One or the other, sure. But never both.
"God, baby," he moans, staring. He takes both my breasts in his hands and squeezes softly, closing his eyes as he does. Instantly, my nipples harden against his palms and I know he notices.
He meets my eyes and we both lean in for a long kiss. I lower my weight even further, not resting on my knees now but instead sitting directly on his thighs, my knees bent on either side of his ribs. He supports my back and keeps his lips on mine for a long moment before lowering his face to my chest, replacing his hands on my breasts with his mouth.
"Mmm- Jackson," I whimper, gasping softly.
"Not okay?" he asks, lifting up right away.
"No, no, no," I say, swallowing hard. "It's great. I… I've just never… It feels so good, I didn't know…"
He smiles that crooked smile that melts me. "Just wait," he says, then goes back for more.
I get lost in the way that his mouth feels. So lost, that I don't expect it when I feel his hand slip between my legs. It makes me jump, but not in a bad way. He's just never touched me there before.
That's not to say I haven't touched myself there while thinking about him, though. That has happened. A lot.
Because I flinched, his hand retreats. But I don't let it go far. "No," I murmur, then guide his wrist back. "You can."
I spread my thighs a little further, opening myself up to him, and he traces the wet patch on my underwear with his thumb. "Fuck," he hisses.
"Uh-huh," I whisper.
Quickly, he lays me down. As he hovers over me on his knees, he tears his shirt off and then his pants, leaving us in just our underthings now.
I've seen him in boxers before, but never with an erection. It's a little intimidating, I have to admit. I can't stop staring at it because it's almost like it's staring at me.
Before I can say anything, though, he lowers down so his head is level with my stomach. He bows my thighs out to either side and I relax as much as I can, wanting to comply.
"April," he mutters, kissing the inside of my leg. No one's lips have ever touched me there before, no one's anything has ever touched me there before. "You're a vir…"
"It's okay," I say. "I want this."
"You want it?"
I nod surely, vigorously, then lift my hips to take my underwear off. I throw them aside and take my time in lowering my eyes back to him, because I don't know if I can handle him so close to something no one else has ever seen before.
"Can I?" he asks, his gaze flitting between my eyes and what's right in front of him.
"Yeah," I say.
When he kisses me between my legs, I see stars right away and my thighs part further, almost as if on instinct. My breath comes shallower and, as he continues to kiss and lick me, I cover my eyes with both hands. My whole body is throbbing; I've never felt like this in my life.
"Jackson," I whimper.
"Good?"
I nod shakily, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes while inhaling deeply. He keeps my thighs apart with his hands, using only his mouth on me, and I can't help the sounds I make.
"You are so gorgeous," he says, parting from my core only to say those words.
He rubs my outer lips with his hand and I involuntarily jolt against him, my hips looking for friction. "Sorry," I breathe.
"Don't apologize," he says, kissing below my belly button as his hand continues to move. "It's fucking hot."
I smile incredulously, hardly believing that this is happening. To me, to me of all people.
He switches between his lips, his tongue, his teeth, his fingers, until he suddenly stops. "Babe," he says, lifting up. "If I don't get inside you soon, I'm gonna come in my pants, and I really don't want you to see that. I don't think I could handle the embarrassment. So, if you don't want to-"
"I want to," I say.
"Alright," he says with a smile. "I'm gonna grab a condom, then. Alright?"
"Okay."
I lie there, knees pressed together now as if he didn't just make himself ultra-familiar with what's between them, and watch him reach inside his nightstand. He pulls out a foil packet, rips it open, then takes his boxers off. Once he does, I see what I've been feeling ever since the party, and it's even bigger than I thought it was.
"Jackson," I whisper. I feel like I've said his name so many times tonight. I reach between my thighs and cup myself, still throbbing, as I worry about how he'll feel.
"I'll go slow, baby, I promise," he says, then kisses me - strong and sure. I don't have any room for doubt inside my head after a kiss like that.
"Okay."
"You want this, right?"
"Yeah."
"Alright," he says, holding it in one hand after slipping the condom on. I widen my thighs again, giving him room, and can't help but tense up as he pushes inside me. I know that's not what I'm supposed to do, but it hurts more than I expected it would.
"Sorry," I say, taking a deep breath.
He blinks hard, half in this world and half in one that I don't know how to join. "All good," he says, struggling a little to get the words out.
I exhale and try to relax. I know it won't hurt so much if I relax. "Okay," I say, then let my knees fall to either side of him, as far as they'll go, and he buries himself all the way.
Once he does, he closes his eyes and presses his lips together, groaning deep in his throat. "You okay?" he manages to say.
"I think so," I reply, adjusting my hips.
"I'm not gonna move 'til you tell me," he says, planting a firm kiss on my lips.
"I'm ready," I say, and hug his neck as he starts to thrust.
I barely want to admit it to myself, let alone him, but it doesn't feel good. It hurts, and it hurts a lot. I try not to let that show, though. I breathe through it and concentrate on the way he's kissing me and the way I'm kissing him back, and know that I can make it through.
I grip his shoulders tight when he comes, and he tucks his face in my neck as his hips buck wildly against me. He stays there for a long moment before lifting up and kissing my jaw, that spot behind my ear that drives me crazy, and meeting my eyes.
"I love you," he says, tracing an eyebrow with his thumb. "I know you didn't come, but I'm gonna change that."
He pulls out and once he does, I notice that I'm bleeding. Or that I bled. I don't know if it's still happening. "Oh, god," I say, sitting up to get away from the stain. "That's so gross, Jackson, I'm so sorry. I can clean it, if you have stain remove-"
"Hey," he says, holding my face with one hand. "I don't care. At all. Let me make you feel good."
"Are you sure?" I ask, keeping my eyes on the red blotches.
"Here," he says, laying his t-shirt down over it. "Gone. Now, come here."
I can't resist smiling as he kisses me and slips a hand between our sweaty bodies. It doesn't take long for him to work me back up to where he had me, with his fingers this time instead of his mouth, and within a few minutes I have my very first orgasm by his hand - literally.
I press my lips together to keep from crying out, and he continues to rub and stroke me after I've come down. "I love you," he murmurs, lips moving against my temple. "You're so beautiful."
"I love you, too," I whisper back, kissing him with all I have and pressing my bare chest against his. I laugh a little and say, "But I'm so sleepy now."
"It's okay," he says. "I am, too. We can sleep."
Almost as soon as he says the words, his breath comes deeper and his body grows heavy wrapped around mine. It doesn't come as easily for me, though. I lie there awake, feeling wired and upset - such different feelings from how sated I'd been moments ago. His arm is too heavy slung over my stomach, and his bed is uncomfortable. My thighs are sticky, my insides are sore, and my lips are kissed raw. I don't feel like me.
I never really thought that losing my virginity would change me, but it was something I held onto for longer than anyone I know. Now, without it, I don't recognize myself. I feel like a stranger in my own body, a stranger in this bed with a sweaty boy who I just gave everything to. But if I gave him everything, what's left for me?
Without waking him, I sit up and let my legs hang over the side of the bed, staring at the carpet for a long moment. The space between my legs is really sore, and when I go to the bathroom to check myself out, I see that I'm still bleeding. I clean up with a wet washcloth and place a wad of toilet paper in my underwear, then get redressed as quietly as I can.
I debate leaving him a note, but I don't know what I'd say. I don't know what to write, so I leave without a kiss goodbye, without a word traded between us. I shut the door quietly, type in the security key code that I have memorized by now, and walk home.
…
At school on Monday, I still don't feel right. Jackson was blowing up my phone yesterday, Sunday, but I told him I was tired and felt sick. It wasn't exactly a lie. I do feel sick; sick with myself. Not exactly because I had sex… at least, that's not all of it. It's not Jackson's fault. It's my fault. But I can't look at him so easily right now.
My hips and body still hurt like nothing else. I didn't think it would be obvious, but I get self-conscious when Cristina calls attention to it as I walk to Whitt's car in the morning.
"You good, Apes? You slipping on the ice out there?"
"No," I say, crossing my arms and looking out the window.
"No, you're not good, or no you're not slipping on the ice?"
"I'm fine," I mutter.
"What happened to you riding with your man in the mornings? You guys in a lovers' quarrel?"
"We're fine, Cristina."
"Leave Carrot Top alone," Whitt says, peering at me in the mirror. "She's been like this all weekend."
When we get to school, I keep my head low and rush to my locker. It's not long before I hear a familiar voice, though. He appears right beside me as I'm grabbing my ACT prep book.
"Hey, baby," Jackson says. "Are you feeling any better? I missed talking to you yesterday."
"I'm fine," I say for what feels like the millionth time this morning. I wrap my arms around my book and avoid his eyes as he desperately tries to meet mine.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"I said I'm fine, Jackson, so I'm fine," I say, then sigh loudly. "I have to go. The bell's about to ring."
JACKSON
I wake up to the worst headache I've ever had, and even though I don't open my eyes, I know it's daytime because I can feel the warmth and sense the light which creates an orange glow beneath my closed eyelids from the partially opened curtains.
As I lay there urging my body to start moving, the recollection of what occurred last night inundates me. I remember winning the championship game. I remember having dinner with my parents, April, Whitt, their mom, and then partying the night away with friends. I definitely remember all the drinks I had, and if I hadn't, my body was sure enough sending signals as an annoying reminder.
Then as if struck by lighting, I remember the most important and life-altering event from last night. April and I had sex, and it was her very first time.
My eyes shoot open, almost comically wide, and a broad grin stretches across my mouth. I'm lying on my back and turn my head expecting to see April and envelop her in my arms, but my excitement at the prospect of repeating what we did last night is short-lived as all I find are the crumpled sheets on her side of the bed.
I struggle to sit up, as it takes a few seconds before the dizzying effect dissipates. Glancing around the room, I check for clues, but find no sign that she's still here. Her clothes and purse are gone, and I pray that she's downstairs in the kitchen with my parents. Now, how we're going to explain the fact that she never made it home to them and her mom, well, that's something we'll just have to figure out.
I'm still naked, so I pull a pair of sweats from my dresser drawer, then head to the bathroom to take a long overdue piss. I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror, and luckily, any indication of a hangover doesn't show on my face.
After brushing my teeth, I take care as I go down the stairs, using the railing to brace myself as my gait is a bit unsteady. What I really need to do is hydrate, grab an aspirin, some toast to settle my stomach, then add a couple hours to rejuvenate and I'll be good to go.
Once I make it to the kitchen, I'm dismayed to find that April has, in fact, gone home. I'm confused, and if I'm honest, a little hurt that she didn't wake me before she left. But then I think, maybe she did. I wasn't in the best condition this morning, so if she tried to rouse me and I didn't respond, I can't fault her for that.
As soon as I eat my food and grab a bottle of water, I head back to my room and straight for my phone, sure that there will be a text from her full of kiss emojis telling me good morning, only to find nothing, which surprises me. Maybe she did get caught and is being lectured by her mother, and god knows what Whitt is saying to her right now, but I decide to chance it and send her a quick text.
SENT 9:04am- morning babe
I add three red heart emojis, hoping to remind her of the words of love we expressed last night.
I wait anxiously for her reply that would usually take seconds to arrive, alas an empty text box is all that I see.
SENT 9:08am- hey babe you okay?
Worried, I begin to pace my room. I would feel better about the situation if I could at least see gray bubbles that show she's at least attempting to send me something back. The minutes tick by at a maddeningly slow pace, and after twenty minutes pass, my fears start to get the best of me.
Oh god, what if she's mad at me? I ponder. I struggle to remember if I did something that offended her, and just the idea that I could hurt her makes me want to retch. Something even the alcohol couldn't manage to do. I think, no, I'm positive that last night was as special to me as it was to her, so I try to brush off the panic that arose in me, and assume that she's in the shower, or eating breakfast, or taking a much-needed nap.
I slump onto my bed, shoulders hunched, as impending doom settles over me. I tell myself I'm being paranoid and decide to busy myself until she texts me back. Little did I know, I'd be waiting a very long time.
I never wanted to be that guy, but throughout the course of the day, between doing my laundry, showering, getting a couple more hours sleep, watching tv, and getting my stuff ready for school the next day, I text and call April… ad nauseam. She never answers the phone, and I'm sure that if anything bad has happened, I'd know. I get that Whitt and I aren't the best of friends, but he wouldn't leave me in the dark. Besides, Cristina would've hit me up by now with any news.
By the time I get ready for bed, I'm sick to my stomach, but this time, I can't blame it on the drinking I did yesterday. Nothing. Not a peep from April all day, and for the first time ever, I'm nervous. When I accept that I won't be hearing from her, my phone sends me a notification.
RECEIVED 10:07pm- sorry. Missed your calls. Was sick. Going to bed. See ya
After I breathe a sigh of relief that she's okay, I blink hard as I reread the text again. It appears almost emotionless. She doesn't ask how I'm doing. She doesn't provide any information as to what was wrong. She doesn't call me baby, and ends it with a casual 'see ya.' But the worst of all is that there's not one kiss or heart for me. At this moment, I'm lost, and all I want to do is sleep the hours away so that tomorrow will come and I can meet her face to face.
I have an uneasy sleep as I toss and turn throughout the night, and when I get up the next day, I know my mood won't get any better.
If I'd have told anyone I was an athlete, they'd laugh in my face. So far this morning, I've managed to trip over my shoelace, dribble orange juice down my shirt, which forced me to change, then run over one of the potted plants along the driveway in my rush to get to April's house and pick her up for school.
I find it unusual that Whitt's car is already gone, because April likes to get to school earlier than he does, and when I ring the doorbell and their mom answers, I know why. She rode in with her brother, which isn't odd. What is odd is that she didn't bother to tell me.
When I arrive, I make my way through the hall, searching frantically for that flash of red hair, and when I spot her by her locker, I make a mad dash through my classmates who all appear to have glue stuck to their sneakers because no one gets out of my way fast enough.
Her back is to me, but all I have to do is see her smiling face and I'll know everything is alright.
"Hey, baby," I ask.. "Are you feeling any better? I missed talking to you yesterday."
"I'm fine," she says, monotone.
She won't look at me, and wraps her arms around her books, separating us, using them almost as a shield.
Her entire body language feels off, so I ask again because I'm not convinced by her answer, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I said I'm fine, Jackson, so I'm fine," she barks at me, "I have to go. The bell's about to ring." she tells me, effectively ending what conversation I'd tried to start.
I end up standing there, dumbfounded by her behavior. Something definitely isn't right, but I'm sure all we need to do is talk and everything will be fine.
I jog to meet up with her in our ACT prep course before the late bell chimes, and take my usual seat next to her. Normally, I'd throw my arm around her chair, or she would lean in close to me, our bodies touching in one way or another, and converse in low voices as we discussed the day's course work. Today, I get none of that. She's damn near robotic, speaking only to me when necessary. By the end of class, I'm barely paying attention to anything she, or the teacher has to say. When class ends, April shoves her things into her bag and hurries out, which causes me to chase after her.
I reach out and cup her elbow, gently tugging on her to indicate that I needed her to slow down, and I veer us off to an alcove.
"Okay, April. What is going on?" I demand, my words coming out a bit harsher than I'd planned.
She can't even meet my eyes. "Nothing."
"No, not nothing." I assert. "You won't look at me. You're not talking to me. April," I say her name, softening my tone as the realization of what it may be hits me. "April, do you regret what we did?"
It's then that she looks into my eyes. The eyes which tell me everything I need to know, even when she tries to mask her true feelings.
"No, I don't. I mean," she begins, biting her bottom lip as she struggles to get it out. "I'm just… I'm just tired. Okay, Jackson? I just wanna be alone."
And when she turns to leave, I don't stop her.
The rest of the day, I'm miserable. April doesn't join me for lunch. We don't meet during free period, and when I text and ask if she wants a ride home, the only response I get is a flat and final, no.
I'm unusually quiet the rest of the evening, as my mother points out. She tells me I'm like a bull in a china shop because I have a tendency to make my presence known, and right now, I can't disagree. I'm damn near comatose. I can't eat. I can't study. Even mindless television doesn't interest me. All I want to do is see April, but it's been radio silence on her end. By the time I crawl into bed, I'm shocked when I hear my phone buzz. Expecting Cristina on the other end, I'm delighted to see that it's April, but my joy is short-lived as I read her message.
RECEIVED 10:37pm- Jackson, I think we need some space
That's all it says. No explanation. She doesn't even call to hit me with the death blow. I frantically text her back, over and over, but each message remains unanswered.
I lie awake far into the night, and when I get up in the morning, my eyes are bloodshot from the lack of sleep. I need to talk to her, and I know she wants space, as she put it, but I need more than that.
I arrive at her house a half hour prior to when we'd leave for school, but when the door opens, it's Whitt who answers.
"Hey, man," I greet him, craning my neck to check and see if April is nearby.
He doesn't even bother with the joking banter we've adopted. "April wants you to leave her alone," he says.
I'm taken aback by his statement, and chuckle because for a split second, I think he's fucking with me. What I did catch was the name in particular he used. Not Carrot Top. Not the old Tampon. April. He called his sister April.
"Wait… what?" I stammer.
He stands at his full height, his expression turning to stone. "Look, I don't know what happened between you two, and April swears to me that you didn't do anything. But I know my sister. There's something she's not telling me, and if she wants me to leave it alone, I will. But she did ask me to tell you to leave her alone, and my advice to you, is that you do." And with that, he slams the door in my face.
My emotions are all over the place. I'm embarrassed, angry, and sad all at the same time. I told her I loved her. She said she loved me. Then this. I promised myself that I'd never allow myself to be made a chump. So, if she wants me to leave her alone, that's exactly what I'm gonna do.
The next few weeks are more of the same. My routine doesn't change, except for the fact that April and I are done. She never comes out and tells me she wants to break up, but she doesn't need to. We never spend time together anymore. We don't text or talk. She doesn't even sit with us at lunch, and it doesn't take a genius to know that she's no longer my girlfriend.
I focus on studying for my ACTs with hopes that it'll distract me from trying to figure out what happened. By the time the date of the test arrives, I'm ready to get it over with. Once I complete this task, I know I won't have to see April in class anymore because frankly, being so close to her but not being able to be with her has slowly eaten parts of me away.
Two weeks later, our test scores arrive in the mail, and I'm dismayed by how I did. I scored a 16 which isn't strong. I let all the drama with April get into my head. I know this excuse won't sit well with my parents, so I bite the bullet and brace myself for them to tell me how disappointed they are.
When I enter the living room, they're already seated, and a somber mood envelopes the room.
"Jackson, sit down," my mom tells me as she gestures with her hand to the space between them.
My father clears his throat, then he and my mother each take one of my hands. I only need to look at them. Before they can tell me, I know it's the end of the road.
"Sweetheart, you know your dad and I have been having a difficult time for years."
I nod my head in acknowledgment, afraid to speak.
"Jackie, we've tried, but we have to be honest with each other," my father laments. "This isn't working, and that's never going to change. We felt it was important to remain a family, but you're older now. You'll be off to college in another year, so your mom and I agreed, it's time for us to move on with our lives as well."
I don't quite know what to feel. I can't say I don't get it. I'm surprised they stuck together this long, but it still hurts, and I thought I'd heard the worst of it, until my mom tells me the rest.
"Your dad is moving out." she informs me, but that's not what knocks the wind out of me. It's what they tell me next.
"I need a fresh start," he announces, "so I'm going to open up a new practice in Portland."
I'm stunned to say the least. My mouth hangs open in complete shock. I understand the divorce, and my dad leaving the home I grew up in, but to move to a completely different state? It's inconceivable.
"I've already started the process of getting the business up and running, so I'll be heading out next month to settle the commercial and residential properties."
They both squeeze my hand a little tighter when the next blow comes.
"Now, Jackson, you have a decision to make," my mom informs me. "We know you don't want to be away from either of us, and I know it'll be hard to be separated from your dad, so, we're giving you the choice to decide who you want to live with."
I pull my fingers from their grasp and place my head in my hands. Too many thoughts are bombarding all at once.
Next year, I'm a senior. All my friends are here in Seattle. I grew up in this house, I don't want to leave it. Then I see her face in my head. April. I don't think I can go another year with the knowledge that she doesn't want me. I'm humiliated by the way things ended. Crushed is more like it. What I felt for her was real, and even the idea of seeing her with another guy would send me raging. Besides, Portland is only three hours away. I can still see my mom whenever I want. And just like that, it clicks.
"Mom. Dad. I love you both, you know that. I never want to have to choose one of you over the other," I tell them with all sincerity, "but I think I need a fresh start too. Mom, I'm going with dad," I declare, " I want to move to Portland."
So, it's decided. We talk a while longer, and there are no hard feelings amongst the three of us. They love me, and I love them. That'll never change. Then and there, I also make the choice not to tell anyone. There's only a month left of school, and when it comes to an end, I'll just leave quietly.
No one needs to know.