Chapter 2
Alan
trudged home, mind in turmoil. He hade
told Gerry that he loved J. This was the
first time that he had said this thought, either aloud to himself. Now he was analyzing this feeling, checking
to see if it was real. Did he love
her? As his best friend, there was no
doubt. But the other way…?
He had
known her all his life. J was the one
person that could make him laugh to matter what was going on—not even Gerry
could do that. Just the thought of J—her
brightness, openness, zest for life—lifted his spirits. He wanted to tell her more than anything what
was going on with his father, but that would worry her. The one thing that Alan refused to do was let
anything hurt J. He knew well that she
could take full care of herself, but Alan didn't want to let her know anything
that might cause her pain. And Alan was
sure that if J knew that he was being beaten by his father, she would be very
upset.
Then there
was this other feeling, the one that he couldn't quite place. It was one that hadn't always been there;
Alan had first been aware of its presence a couple months ago. But now he realized that it had been creeping
upon him for about a year now. So did
all of this mean that he loved J?
Alan
reached his house and stared at the doorknob, wanting to delay the inevitable
for just a few more moments. What did it
matter, she didn't love him, not that way anyway. It was Sunshine that she was interested
in. Taking a deep breath, Alan walked up
to his house and went inside.
***
About a
week or so later, J was heading home from a piano lesson. Her mind was not on Bach, however. It was on Alan. He'd been much more quiet than usual lately,
and he'd also come to school with assortments of bruises and cuts. J knew that something was going on, and she
wasn't the only one. She had gone to
Coach (Yoast) and he shared her concerns. But he said that there wasn't much that they could do if Alan wouldn't
say anything.
J paused in
her brisk walk. Something was
wrong. Very wrong. J took off in a dead sprint for Alan's
house. Since she was close, it didn't
take her long to reach it. She dashed up
and pounded on the door, but there was no answer. J hurled the door open (thankfully it was unlocked)
and raced up to Alan's room. The next
few minutes were a surreal blur.
There stood Fred Bosley, standing frozen in the center of the room, staring at Coaches Boone and Yoast. Boone was on his way out of the room (to call an ambulance), and he tried to tell J something, but she didn't hear. All she could focus on was Alan. He lay on the floor, battered and unmoving except for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Yoast was beside him, checking Alan over for all his injuries.
"Now, J, try to stay calm. Coach Boone and I are handling things—" But J would have none of it. She heard herself scream
"Alan!"
before flinging herself next to him and sobbing. Boone and Yoast took care of the rest.
***
Alan
searched the crowd around his hospital bed, but didn't see J. 'She
must be mad at me for not telling her,' he thought with a heavy heart. He talked to everyone for awhile, but soon
they had to leave. It was just him and
Coach (Yoast) in the room. When Coach
told Alan about his mother, Alan was too shocked and tired to reply very
much. Coach glanced at his watch,
"I
should be going," Alan nodded,
"Alright." Coach turned to go, but right before leaving,
turned back.
"J has
been by your side ever since she found you. The paramedics practically
had to pry her away from your stretcher so they could put you in the ambulance.
They wouldn't let her ride with you. It
made her very upset. She has been
beating down doctors for updates every few hours." Finished, Coach left, and Alan turned his
head to see her. She was half sitting in
a chair next to him, half lying on the bed beside him, fast asleep. When Alan twisted his body, wincing in pain,
to get a better look at her, she stirred and woke. Upon seeing Alan awake, she exclaimed,
"Alan! You're up!" and hugged him. The tawny-haired youth was amazed at how
enthusiastic J was to see him, yet so gentle and mindful of his injuries in the
embrace.
"Hey,
J," Alan said when she released him.
"Hey
Alan. How are you feeling?" Alan grinned,
"Better. Sore and stiff, but better. I can't believe it—Coach found my Mom! My father said that she was dead, but she
isn't! I'm gonna get to see her soon,
and I'm gonna live with her!" J
smiled,
"Yeah,
I heard. That's great." But the smile never quite reached J's
eyes. Alan sobered,
"What's
wrong, J?" The hazel eyed youth
paused before answering. When she did
speak, Alan could hear the hurt in her voice and see it in her eyes.
"Why
didn't you tell us, Alan? We could have helped
you so much sooner, then you wouldn't be here, in a hospital." Her chin quivered, "you scared me to
death. I knew something was wrong, I
could sense it. Then there you
were…lying in your own blood. So still
that for a second I thought you were dead…before I saw you breathe. I've never been more scared in my
life." J broke off as a few tears
spilled through her eyes. Alan gingerly
wrapped his arms around her, then relaxed as she softly lay her head (mindful
of any bruises) on his shoulder.
After a
moment, Alan could feel tears leak onto his (hospital) gown. "I'm so sorry, J. I don't know what I was thinking. I just…I didn't want to worry anyone, especially
you. I know that it sounds dumb
considering the circumstances, but that's what I was thinking. And I know that you're especially upset that
I didn't tell you. I…I just didn't want
you to worry. I know that you'd be hurt
that I didn't tell you from the beginning, and…"
J pulled
away so that she could face Alan properly. "I understand. You didn't
want to talk about it. Most people don't
when they're being…well, I was hurt, but I understand and forgive
you." Alan bit the inside of his
check as a weight lifted from his shoulders, though there was still a heavy
feeling inside his chest. "But you
have to promise to tell me if anything like this happens again." J's eyes were serious. "Anything that really hurts you, you
have to tell me about." Alan met
J's gaze,
"I
will." J nodded,
"Alright." She got up. "Now you need rest. I'll be
back to see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Okay."
***
The day
after Alan came home from the hospital, J stopped by to visit him. Alan answered the door.
"J! Hi! Come in!" J smiled and
hugged Alan, then followed him inside.
"Hey
Alan. How are you doing?" All of a sudden, Alan's mother burst into the
room.
"I
heard the door—who's this? I thought I
told you that you needed to rest today." Alan stammered as he explained,
"This
is J, Mom. She's my best friend along
with Gerry." Alan's mother squinted
at J, her face slowly giving way to slight recognition.
"My,
my…could this be the Julie that Alan used to play with?" J winced at the name Julie.
"Yes I
am, Ms. Sydney. But please, call me
J." Ms. Sydney was appalled,
"Whatever
for? Julianna is a beautiful name. I do not understand why you prefer something
as coarse and masculine as 'J'." Alan began to get a headache. There his mother went again. He
knew that he wouldn't be able to explain J to his mother with her prissy
ways. "And you used to be so
pretty. What happened? And why are you wearing such
clothing?"
J
stiffened. Alan knew that it was taking
every fiber of her self-control to not explode at his mother. J had a short temper, especially when it had
something to do with her tomboyish-ness. J closed her eyes and released a shaky breath. Opening her eyes again, she stated,
"I'm
sorry for bothering you, Ms. Sydney. I
just wanted to stop by and see how Alan is doing. And you're right, he should be resting. I really should be going now." She opened the front door, which squeaked a
little in protest (perhaps remembering how violently it had been opened by the
same hand only a week earlier) and left.
Alan
watched J's retreating figure through the window until she disappeared. His mother turned to go back into the
kitchen. "Interesting girl. I don't think that you should see her
anymore." A claw of ice gripped
Alan's heart,
"What? But Mom, she's my best friend!"
"Well,
she's not a proper young lady and I don't think that she has a good influence
on you." Alan swallowed a growing
lump in his throat,
"But—"
"No
buts," Alan's mother commanded as she walked away. "You are not to see her anymore. End of discussion."
