A/N: Okay, chapter eight. You know, I really like writing these memories. It's more fun than writing the actual story. But that's just me. Anyway, thanks for the reviews. They really are great motivators. I understand why writers blackmail us readers for them. They make me smile. And, yes, I like long reviews. It seems my chapters are only getting longer, so I'm glad so many of you like long chapters.
Now, this is an unplanned chapter. I kind of bungled chapter seven, so let me know what you think, especially about the end of the memory. I'm not sure it flows right. Okay, I know, blah, blah, blah. On with the story.
"Incoming," Grace said as she closed her locker.
Frowning, Joan followed suit and turned to glance in the direction Grace was looking in. Adam was making his way through a throng of students. Pleasure filled Joan at the sight of him. They'd been together for ten months now and, while everything hadn't been perfect, it came pretty darn close.
"I'm going to class," Grace announced.
Joan stared at her friend. "If you go now, you'll be on time."
Grace looked like she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. "It's either that or watch you and Rove suck face. Again. I can only take so much. Later, Girardi."
Amused, Joan watched Grace get lost in the crowd. Were she and Adam that bad? A moment's thought made Joan smile. Yeah, they were.
"Hey, Jane."
"Hey," she replied. Her lingering smile faded when she saw the frown on his face. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Adam brushed a quick kiss on her lips before taking her hand and leading her away from the lockers. "I'm fine."
"Then why the frown?"
"Jane, I'm fine. Really," he said with a smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes.
Joan stopped in the middle of the hall. "Adam, you don't lie well. You can't even sugarcoat things. Tell me what's wrong."
Adam took Joan's hands in his hands and gave her a more genuine smile. "Nothing's wrong. I just have some things on my mind, that's all."
"You're sure?" She wasn't quite ready to believe him yet.
He nodded. "We don't have much time. Class starts in a couple of minutes. I wanted to ask if you could come over to my house after school."
"Uh," Joan mentally checked her to-do list, "yeah. I think my schedule's clear."
"Good." Adam brushed another kiss on her mouth. "See you after school."
Joan worried about Adam for the rest of the day. By the time the final bell rang, she was a mass of nerves despite his reassurances. She rushed to her locker and exchanged her books.
"You said yourself that Adam can't lie," a voice said at Joan's elbow. "So why are you so agitated?"
She looked up into the pale face of Goth God. "He didn't seem fine," she sighed.
"Trust him, Joan."
"I do."
"Then stop worrying. That's not what he needs from you right now anyway."
"What does he need?" The anxiety she'd felt all day was beginning to lessen but not by much.
Goth God merely raised an eyebrow. "The same thing he's always needed: your support." Goth God turned and walked away before Joan could say anything.
Heaving a sigh of frustration, Joan finished getting her books. Really, why must God always be so cryptic?
The hand on the small of her back startled her. She whirled around to find Adam looking at her with a concerned smile on his face. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You didn't forget, did you? About coming over to my house?"
"No." Joan pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I definitely haven't forgotten."
The uneasiness receded from his eyes and he took her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. "Ready?"
As I'll ever be, she thought. "Let's go."
Silence reigned on the walk to Adam's. Joan knew that whatever this was all about, it wasn't a bad thing. Goth God had effectively laid that concern to rest. But she had a persistent fear that whatever it was about was going to change things.
They were almost at the house when the suspense snapped the last of Joan's reserve. "Where was Grace after school, do you know?" she asked, seizing on the first thing that came to mind.
"She had a meeting with the guidance counselor, I think."
"Again?" Joan asked as they climbed the front steps to the porch. It took a moment for her to realize that Adam wasn't leading her around to his shed. "Wait."
Adam looked at her expectantly.
"The reason you wanted me to come over," she started, "it's in the house?"
"Yeah." He unlocked the front door. "Come on."
Joan followed Adam through the house up to his room, the sheer strangeness of being in Adam's house wildly forcing her anxiety up. She lingered by his bedroom door. Had he led her here on any other occasion, Joan knew that, while she'd still be a little apprehensive, she would have also felt some excitement instead of a nearly overwhelming urge to run. Sex, though it hadn't come up with them, suddenly seemed infinitely preferable to whatever Adam wanted to talk about. Stop being an idiot, she told herself as Adam knelt by his bed and pulled out a box. Be supportive. That's what you're here to do.
Adam sat on the bed and dumped the box's contents before looking up at Joan. Knowing that the moment she'd been dreading had finally come, Joan crossed the room and sat next to Adam. "What's all this?" she asked without looking at it.
"Responses to my college applications."
Joan blinked; that was the last thing she had expected him to say. College responses? That's what this was all about? She heaved a sigh of relief and turned her attention to the envelopes littering his bed. The smile that had begun just seconds before disappeared as she looked at the thick packets. These were acceptance letters.
Dazed by the sheer number of them, Joan began to read the names: Rhode Island School of Design, Maryland Institute College of Art, Pratt Institute School of Art and Design, Atlanta College of Art, New York University, UCLA. There were a few more, including one from the University of Maryland, where she intended to go. "Adam," she whispered.
"That's all of them," he said quietly. "All the schools I applied to. I've been accepted to all of them."
Feeling like she had lost all capacity for speech, Joan just stared at him.
"With full scholarships to most," Adam whispered into the silence.
"Wow," Joan murmured. She felt like screaming. She didn't know if she could do this—support the possibility of Adam leaving her. It was all she could do not to pick up the University of Maryland packet, shove it in his hands, and say, "Go here."
Adam shifted beside her. "I didn't expect all of them to accept me."
Joan nodded. She was still having a problem finding words.
"I don't know what to do."
It was the utterly lost tone of Adam's voice that broke through Joan's stupor. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she turned to Adam. "Congratulations."
He glanced at her as if afraid she hadn't quite grasped the situation. "Jane, I . . . look at all this."
"I see it. It's amazing."
"No, it's not." Adam pushed off the bed and became to pace. He never paced. "This is a nightmare. I didn't even want to go to college."
"Then why'd you apply to so many?"
"Because," he huffed, "your mom made some really good pro-college arguments."
She slipped off the bed and stood in front of him. "So you applied to please my mom. Now, you have to make a decision."
"I don't want to."
It hurt her heart to see the anguish in Adam's eyes. "Is it because you still don't want to go to college or because so many accepted you or . . . is it because of us?"
Adam shrugged and looked around the room, anywhere but at Joan. "I don't know."
Joan took Adam's hand and led him back to the bed. She sat on the other side of him. "I can't make this decision for you."
"I know."
"But," she said as she turned to face him, "I can try to make it a little easier for you."
Adam gave a humorless chuckle. "How?"
"By telling you that you don't have to worry about us." She waited until he raised his eyes to hers then smiled. "This decision, it has nothing to do with us."
"Yes, it does, Jane."
"No," she said, her smile still painfully in place, "it doesn't. It's all about you. Your dreams, your passion, your future."
Adam turned toward her and took her hands in his. "You're a part of that future."
"I hope so. I want to be. But, Adam, you have an incredible opportunity here and I don't want to be the reason that you don't take advantage of it. So, whatever you decide, don't factor me into the equation."
"How can I do that, Jane?" he pleaded, his voice stricken. "You're my girlfriend. I love you. I don't want to lose you."
"You will never lose me, Adam," Joan promised, absolute certainty in her words. "God gave us to each other. No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you."
"But, what if . . ."
"No," she interrupted, shaking her head. "Life is full of what ifs. Every decision is cluttered with them. I don't know what's going to happen, but you and I are meant for each other. And, if we're separated, heaven forbid, we will find our way back to each other. I believe that."
Adam flopped back on his pillows and closed his eyes. "This is so hard."
"Yeah," Joan agreed, flopping on the pillows, too. "It pretty much sucks."
"Hard."
"Very hard."
He turned to look at her. "I don't want to leave you."
Joan turned to look back at him. He was so close, she could count his eyelashes. She smiled. "You may have to."
"Let's not talk about this anymore," he sighed.
"Agreed."
They stared at each other for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. Then Joan leaned forward and kissed him. She'd only meant for it to be a chaste peck, but before she could pull back, it deepened. Cupping his cheek, she tugged him closer. He came willingly, his hand sliding up her side. His hand brushed the exposed skin about her jeans, making her gasp. She pulled back and stared at him, surprised by the intensity of her reaction.
Adam's gaze dropped to her lips and he swallowed. He seemed to struggle with something before he finally sat up. "I should probably take you home," he said, smiling down at her despite the strained look in his eye.
"You're probably right." She sat up, too, running shaky hands through her hair and over her clothes.
The drive to Joan's house was as quiet as the walk to Adam's. She spent the time thinking about how close they'd come to crossing the line. It felt really close.
He pulled up to her house and parked. "Thank you."
She nodded. She knew he was talking about their conversation. "You're welcome. Thank you."
"For what?"
"Stopping."
Adam focused on the steering wheel. "It's not the right time."
"No, it isn't."
He got out of the truck then and came around to her side to open the door. For a moment, they both tried to decide if they should kiss or hug or just not touch each other. In the end, they came to the same, silent conclusion: it was too soon for physical contact. With a final smile, Joan picked up her bookbag and went up the walk with Adam. "See you in school tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"Good night, Adam."
"Night, Jane."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Joan opened her eyes and groaned. Her head ached, her mouth tasted like rancid milk, and her stomach churned at the thought of the taste in her mouth. Pressing her fists to her eyes, she tried to figure out why she felt like she had the flu of the century.
"You look awful."
Cautiously peeking over her fists, Joan saw Grace standing in her doorway. She had a box of Kleenex, a glass of water, a pack of crackers and a bottle of aspirin in her hands. Joan decided to overlook Grace's unflattering assessment of her looks and held her hands out for the aspirin and water. "Please?"
Grace entered the room and held out the pack of crackers. "You should eat something first."
Joan obediently ate the unwanted crackers, then took the two aspirin Grace gave her. With a sigh, she ran her fingers through her hair before turning pitiful eyes to her roommate. "What time is it?"
"Three," Grace answered, leaning against the wall next to the vanity.
"I cried myself to sleep?" Joan asked, incredulous. "No wonder I feel like I've been hit by a truck."
"You look it, too."
"Thanks." She glanced at herself in the mirror and realized Grace was right. She looked awful. Her eyes and nose were red and puffy, her face splotchy, her hair shot off in every direction. She looked hollow like she was in mourning.
Well, wasn't she? she thought. The man she'd loved for ten years had left her for the second time. She shouldn't look like she could do cartwheels right now.
Joan flopped back in her chair and examined Grace.
"What?" Grace asked, shifting uncomfortably under Joan's gaze.
Curious about the unusual reaction and thankful for the distraction, Joan said, "I was wondering what's up with you?"
Eyes narrowed, Grace jutted her chin forward slightly. "What are you talking about?"
"You have to admit you've been acting kind of strange lately. Hugging Adam, taking care of me." Joan leaned toward her roommate, shocked that she shrank back from her. Oh, something was definitely out of whack in Graceland. "What's with this new affectionate, supportive Grace?"
"Nothing."
She sounded like Grace, but the shadows in her eyes said she was lying. Grace rarely lied to her. When she did, Joan knew that whatever Grace was hiding was usually pretty important to her. She also knew that she wasn't going to find out what was bothering her friend until she was ready to confide in her. Sighing, Joan decided to let Grace off the hook. "Whatever you say."
"Good," she said, straightening up on the wall. "Are you ready to talk?"
Joan fought back a devilish grin. She couldn't resist one last jab. "I'm ready when you are," she said, pointedly. At Grace's equally pointed look, Joan laughed and said, "I think I'll go take a shower. I feel pretty gross right now."
"Sounds like a plan." Grace pushed off the wall and left the room.
An hour later, Joan emerged showered and dressed, no longer looking like a train wreck. Unfortunately, she found herself wandering aimlessly around the apartment. She had no plans for the day and she'd gone through most of her work files last night. The thought of finishing didn't appeal to her now. Eventually, Grace stopped her drifting. "Get out."
"Excuse me."
"You heard me," Grace said without looking up from the computer. "Get out. Go do something before I'm forced to hurt you in self-defense."
"What are you talking about?"
"You're driving me crazy with the pacing and the moping. If you don't stop on your own, which I'm sure you won't, I'll have to hurt you. I don't want to pay the rent by myself. Now get out."
Speechless yet amused, Joan grabbed a coat and left the apartment. Since she didn't need to go anywhere in particular, she decided to leave her car and walk for a bit. Trusting her feet to carry her safely along, she let her thoughts wander. Most of them were about Adam and their past. The first time he'd left, she'd been completely lost. He had been such an enormous part of her life that she had difficulty getting through the day without talking to him or seeing him. Now, her emotions were all stirred up and there was nothing to do but wait for them to settle down again.
"They will, you know?"
"What?" Joan noticed a lovely woman walking beside her.
The woman smiled reassuringly at Joan. "Your emotions. They'll settle down. Eventually."
God. Joan took in this guise's long, glossy brown curls, her elegant lines, the truly beautiful face. "You went all out for this one, didn't you?"
"Every now and again, I like to feel pretty."
Jaw dropped, Joan gaped at her heavenly companion before bursting into laughter.
"Feel better?"
Joan, struggling to rein in her laughter, nodded. When she succeeded, she said, "Yes, I do. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Joan."
They continued walking in silence, each preoccupied with her own thoughts. Finally, Joan turned to Lovely Woman God and said, "While I appreciate the company, I'm sure You have much better things to do than go for a walk with me."
Lovely Woman God didn't respond, just continued walking alongside Joan, Her slim, shapely hands tucked into the pockets of Her white linen slacks. Knowing that God wasn't one to be rushed, Joan fell silent again and waited for whatever was coming.
"It won't be easy."
Joan nodded as if she knew what that referred to. "What is?"
"You'll have to deal with a lot of emotions: yours, his, your families' and friends'."
Peeking at God out of the corner of her eye, Joan asked, "Are You talking about Adam and me? Are You just going to get more cryptic as I get older? Because the enigmatic message thing doesn't make this arrangement any better."
Lovely Woman God stopped and turned to Joan. "You've grown a lot in the last ten years. Matured beautifully. But you haven't yet learned how to take care of yourself and your own needs."
"This is about me taking care of myself?" she asked, confused. She thought she led a pretty healthy, active life. What more was she supposed to do for herself?
"You take care of your body, but what about the rest of you? Your heart, your soul. They require maintenance, too."
"So, what do You suggest?" Joan asked. May as well cut to the chase.
Lovely Woman God tucked a lock of hair behind Joan's ear, a rare gesture which stunned Joan. "Listen to your instincts, your heart. Learn to trust them. Trust yourself. Believe Me, it'll make your life a lot easier." With that, She walked away.
Joan didn't know how long she stood looking after Her, but she slowly realized that the sun was going down. Turning God's words over in her mind, Joan started home.
She was almost home when she noticed him. A man stood in front of her apartment, his fist half-raised like he couldn't decide whether to knock or just leave. Curious, Joan squinted, trying to see him more clearly. "Adam?" she asked.
He turned toward her, noticeably startled. "Jane."
"What are you doing here?" She stopped about ten feet away from him as if she was afraid to get too close. "I thought you'd be home packing or something."
"I travel light."
"What about your art?"
"Packed already."
"Oh." Joan crossed her arms over her stomach to keep from fidgeting. "So, what are you doing here?"
Adam stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "I didn't like how we left things this morning."
Joan didn't respond though she knew what he meant. The state of their relationship was still open to interpretation.
"Where do we stand, Jane?"
"Has anything changed between this morning and now?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean nothing's changed. Your life is in New York, mine is here. You have a career and an apartment, friends, a reputation . . . a girlfriend, we think. I have all those things here. Well, not the girlfriend, but everything else." She paused, trying to organize the thoughts swirling in her head. "I guess . . . I guess we're just two old friends."
"Who love each other." He took a cautious step toward her.
Joan held herself a little tighter. "We love who we used to be, not who we are now."
"We haven't changed that much."
"But we have changed," she said, looking at her front door instead of at him.
"We're still essentially the same people, Jane," Adam said, his rising frustration obvious in his voice. "Why are you so determined to deny that? Do you . . . do you not care for me anymore?"
Her eyes jerked to his face. "No, that's not it, at all."
"Then what?"
Joan floundered for an answer, but couldn't pinpoint the reason she was trying to push him away. All she really wanted to do was beg him to stay.
"You once told me," Adam started as he closed the distance between them, "I'd never lose you. That God gave us to each other and that, no matter what happened, you'd always be here for me. Do you remember that?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember what else you said?"
Blinking away the tears that had become her constant companion since Adam's arrival, she nodded. "I said we were meant for each other."
"What else?" he asked as he wiped away a wayward tear.
"That, even if we were separated," Joan's voice broke and she swallowed before continuing, "we'd find our way back to each other."
"Jane," Adam whispered, cupping her face in his hands, "that's all I'm suggesting. That we find our way back to each other."
"How?"
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She laid her head on his shoulder and felt her body relax into his. "We start with something simple. Like a movie or dinner or a walk. Then we do something else."
Joan tipped her head back and looked up at him. She studiously ignored the fact that his lips were inches away from hers. "How do we do that when you're going home tomorrow?"
"That shouldn't be a problem," he assured her. "I'm not going back just yet."
"But this morning . . ." Joan said, pulling back.
"This morning I didn't realize how much I wanted to stay."
"Why?"
Adam smiled at her. "Do you really have to ask?"
Wordlessly, Joan returned Adam's smile with a tremulous one of her own. Then she laid her head on his shoulder again and closed her eyes. "How long?"
"I don't know. I'll have to go back eventually, but right now, this is where I need to be."
Joan nodded, glad that she didn't have to be strong and let go of him so soon. A part of her knew that his staying would make it be even harder to let go. But right now, all that mattered was his presence and his cheek against her temple, his thumbs gently caressing her back, their slight swaying motion. All that mattered was this moment.
A/N: Yes, more author's notes. Two things. One, this story has just gotten interactive. In your reviews, let me know if you want to see what happens immediately after this scene (not that I know) but it'll probably involve a good deal of "whatcha been doing for the last four years, Adam" dialogue. Or we can skip to the next planned chapter. Totally your call.
Second thing, I'm really bad at written reviews. I feel awkward when I write them. And one day soon, I'm going to get off my behind and go on a reviewing frenzy. You've been warned. In the meantime, though, I just wanted to say that when I'm stuck or my mind starts wandering over the story (or thinking up new ones for y'all), I read some of the other stories for the show for inspiration and focus. You all rock.