Title: You Never Said Goodbye
Chapter: 2 - Memories
Special Thanks: Despite the fact that this chapter goes unbeta-ed, I'd like to give thanks to the Lits of for giving me inspiration to write, which is so hard for me to come by these days. You guys rock!
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Beep.
From beneath a pile of wrinkled covers, one eye peeked out.
Beep. Beep.
Next came an arm, the bicep covered by a well worn tee-shirt sleeve. The now uncovered appendage fumbled around wildly, going in every which direction as it simultaneously attempted to coordinate itself and find the bedside table.
Beepbeepbeepbeep.
The noise was becoming too much for a sane mind to bear. The flailing arm immediately gave up it's search for the source of the offending noise and instead went to uncover it's owner, a dark haired, bleary eyed, slightly thin young man. He opened his other eye, blinking a few times to rid himself of the last clinging remnants of sleep (and to fight the morning rays of sun), and then turned his attention to the clock. The damned alarm clock. The damned alarm clock that Jimmy had conned him into buying.
Yes. This was all Jimmy's fault.
Sighing in annoyance, the young man performed his daily ritual of picking the beeping clock up off of the table, looking at it curiously, weighing it in his hand, and then tossing it against the wall, effectively ending it's tirade of beeping. Nodding in sleepy satisfaction, he smoothed his hair a bit, then laid back down, his descent resembling that of a rock falling from a cliff.
Sleep was impossible now. He'd been woken up, he'd been sufficiently annoyed, and now any possibility of further sleep was taken away from him. Today was going to suck, he decided. Sighing once again, he sat up, his tired eyes taking in his room in the early morning sunlight. Dark blue curtains hung from simple gold hangers above his two windows. The sunlight that did not enter through the cracks between the shades was an interesting shade, made blue from the filtering effect of the shades.
This blue light fell onto the many books strewn about his room. So many books that even three shelves was not enough to hold them. He had books of every kind – romance, fantasy, philosophy, adventure. You name it, this man, Jess Mariano, probably had it.
Shoving the thin blanket off of him, Jess stood, stretching as he did so. The joints in his arms and legs cracked loudly as he did so, protesting their early awakening.
"What time 'sit?" he wondered aloud, mumbling the words.
"It's about 8:30," came an unexpected response.
"Whoa!" Jess exclaimed, finally fully awake at this surprise guest.
Her head peeking in the doorway, his step-sister gave him a bit of a smirk. "You're late for work; Jimmy'll be pissed."
Jess's head snapped toward his clock, which was surprisingly not where it should be. Of course. He'd thrown it.
Damn Jimmy. It was all his fault that he was late for work. If he hadn't forced him to buy that clock, it never would have beeped, and he never would have thrown it, and then he wouldn't be standing in the middle of his room trying to find more ways to lay the blame on Jimmy.
Damn Jimmy.
"Are you just gonna stand there all day?" Lily asked, pushing her glasses up to rest on the bridge of her nose; they tended to slide down every now and then, which led Jess to believe that her head was shrinking.
Jess looked up, startled to see that she was still there. And then he remembered he was late for work.
"Shit," he mumbled as he moved toward his closet.
Nodding in satisfaction, Lily closed the door and let her brother get dressed, as she certainly didn't want to watch him while he did so. In her mind, naked + Jess ick.
Simple math, really.
Tossing clothes everywhere, Jess attempted to find a clean pair of pants among the pig sty that was his closet. A shirt landed on his lamp, a pair of green swim trunks hit his stereo, knocking some CDs over with a clutter. A clump of socks flew off in many directions, one striking a picture and knocking it to the floor, face down.
Finally, a few minutes later, he emerged from the din with a pair of jeans clenched in his fist. Success. Changing quickly, he looked around the room to make sure he had everything he needed. He grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his left back pocket, designated his "wallet pocket". In his right back pocket, he inserted his current reading project, The Guardian. Ah, Nicholas Sparks, his guilty pleasure.
Nodding, he deemed everything in order, and started to make his way from the room. He reached for the door knob, and suddenly his hand froze. Mumbling something under his breath, he quickly strode over to his dresser, namely the picture that resided on the floor, and picked it up. He looked at it for a moment, the look in his eyes far away.
"Look, could we sit down?"
"No. You wanted to talk, so talk." Her voice had a tinge of annoyance, her eyes held no emotion other than anger. She wasn't ready to hear what he had to say.
He paused for a moment, his breath coming out in waves of mist, before finally saying, "I love you."
She stood, shocked, her blue eyes searching his face. He must be lying, he must be trying to confuse her, a million "must be"s floated around in her mind as he backed away slowly, opened his car door, got in, and drove off, leaving her behind. For good, this time.
He closed his eyes against the memory. The picture was older, from her first year of Yale. Her hair was shorter than when he'd lived there, the length it had been on that night. He liked her hair like that. It suited her.
His face hardened a bit. Why had Luke sent him this picture? He must have known the torment it would cause him. Maybe he'd done it as a bid to get him to come back…Maybe he'd used Rory as bait.
No…Luke wouldn't do that.
Jess sighed and set the picture back into it's rightful place. He was still a fool for that girl, and though he hadn't told Jimmy or Sasha, or even Lily, about Rory, they'd guessed that the mysterious girl who occupied his dressertop must have had something to do with his past.
Turning, he quickly left his room, shutting the door with a slam.
The picture teetered and fell.
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He was almost an hour late to the stand when he arrived, and the sun was already boiling the sands of the nearby beach. The drab buildings that made up the boardwalk were opening their doors and your average burnout teenagers were already starting to prowl the streets in search of something to occupy themselves on yet another boring summer day.
Perfect for business, Jimmy would say.
"You're late," came his father's voice from behind the counter.
"Yeah," Jess replied, "I know. I overslept."
There was a rustle, and Jimmy stood up from his crouching position. "You overslept eh?" He made a sort of laughing sound, disbelief etched across his face. "You never oversleep. Are you sick or something? Maybe you should go home for the day."
Jess cocked his head at the man. "Done trying to be fatherly?" Jimmy looked a little sheepish and nodded. Jess wouldn't have even bothered showing up if he wasn't feeling good.
Jess nodded in satisfaction and said, "I had a bad dream or two…So I didn't sleep well."
Jimmy looked sharply at his son. It certainly wasn't like Jess to admit to something as silly as bad dreams, certainly not to him. "Well," he said, obviously uncomfortable, "fine, then."
Jess stepped forward and looked around behind the counter.
"I see you're done stocking…Do you need anything else done?"
Jimmy thought for a moment, the skin on his forehead creasing a bit, and he slowly shook his head. "Nah, I think it's all set. Just wait around till the rush sets in."
Jess glanced quickly at his watch. 9 AM sharp. The rush would start in an hour or so.
"Alright," he said, pulling his book out and flipping it open to his mark, "Just yell if you need something, alright?"
"Alright," Jimmy replied, turning to go in back. He stopped, though, and turned his head to glance at Jess, "Have you heard from your mother lately?"
Jess gave his father a cold stare and simply stated, "No."
Jimmy nodded, sensing that this was unstable ground, and pushed the curtain aside, heading into the back.
Jess sighed, bit his lip in thought, then turned back to his book.
'I think I'll call Luke tonight,' he thought calmly, 'It's been awhile since I've checked in to see how everyone's doing.' How Rory's doing, said a little voice in the back of my head.
Jess mentally murdered said voice and happily went back to his book.
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Author's Note: Wow. Another chapter in the same day. This is so very unlike me. However, with the school week about to start, updates will probably once every three to four days from now on. If you don't like it, tough. ;)
