(07) "Can I Do This?"

"When I first saw you, I was afraid to talk to you. When I first talked to you, I was afraid to like you. When I first liked you, I was afraid to love you. Now that I love you, I'm afraid to lose you." —Anonymous

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'It's about Ralph, isn't it?' were the first words out of Jack's mouth once he and Lee had found a spot to settle down in.

Lee glanced around at the towering trees surrounding them, his gaze wandering everywhere but Jack's face.

'This isn't like you, man,' he finally responded. 'I've known you for a long time. We've had some great, fun times together . . . Now, don't get me wrong, Ralph is a great guy and all, but . . .' He sighed and scratched his chin thoughtfully. '. . . but this isn't you.'

'What do you mean? Of course this is me, Lee! I've just changed—that's all.'

'But how long do you seriously think your relationship with Ralph is going to last?' Lee asked. 'How long will it be before he dumps you, or you dump him?'

'Our relationship isn't like that, Lee,' Jack said through gritted teeth.

'I know that it isn't.'

'And that's all that you have to know!' Jack snapped. 'That's all that there is to know! We've been through all this before, "buddy". You said that the whole "dibbing" thing will be the last request!'

'"Dibbing"?'

'You know, like, "I have dibs on Jack!"'

Lee still looked rather confused.

'Giving, donating, pledging, whatever!' Jack added in exasperation. 'And that was for a good cause! What the hell do you have up your sleeve this time?'

'I am rather insulted by that, Merridew,' Lee replied coldly. 'You know my past better than anyone else. I should think you'd have a little bit more respect for my character.'

'Character? Lee, you're a great guy inside, but your philosophy on life is that "the ends justify the means". I don't see shit like that! I don't see things in the same way that you do!' Jack paused for a moment to take a breath. 'What I have with Ralph is special. I don't want to ruin it just because you think that the "means" are insignificant. Get a clue already, Lee!'

'Look, will you at least listen to what I have to say!'

'If it has the words "dump" and "Ralph" in the same sentence, then I don't want to hear it!'

'No! It doesn't!'

There was another pause, this one fairly longer than the last.

'Okay . . . I'm listening . . .'

Lee sighed.

'I don't like seeing you like this, Jack. You're still mourning over Ralph and—'

'I'm not mourning!' Jack interrupted.

'You are so mourning!' Lee snapped. 'And you're acting like a fucking pussy.'

'Can it, Lee.'

'Shit, Jack, would you just listen for a second! Just shut up, okay?'

Jack did just that . . . for the time being.

'I . . . just want to help you out a bit, man, in any way I can,' Lee said quietly.

'Gee, Lee, I didn't know you felt that way about me,' Jack replied, his playfulness returning. (That was always something that happened when he was talking to Lee. They've been close to each other for so long that they could be throwing insults at one moment and the next be kidding around like 12-year-old girls.)

Lee instantly recognized his friend's teasing tone and punched him in the shoulder.

'Listen, buddy, I got you something.' Then he pulled a white envelope out of his pocket. On it was Jack's name scrawled in Lee's untidy cursive writing.

'What's this?' Jack asked, taking the envelope and slitting it open with his finger.

'Something that the Brown (as in Brown Cow) man helped me buy with some of the leftover money that he had.' Lee smiled upon seeing Jack's face light up.

'It's a . . it's a . . . a train ticket,' Jack stuttered, his eyes welling up with tears.

'Yeah, and not just any train ticket . . . This one goes directly to Surrey, so that you can go and see Ralph.'

'Lee, I . . . I don't know what to say . . .'

'Well, a "thank you" would be nice . . . or . . . er . . . maybe not.'

'What do you mean?' Jack asked, his hard tone returning.

'There's a slight catch to it . . . Nothing big!' Lee added quickly.

'What? Do I have to pay it back or something?'

'No . . . uh . . . As you can see, this ticket isn't for another two weeks or so . . .'

'And?'

'And . . . you have to call Ralph and . . . tell him that you want to break up.'

All of Jack's happy thoughts suddenly vanished and furious ones took their place.

'WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN! YOU JUST SAID THAT YOU WOULDN'T TELL ME TO DUMP RALPH!'

'I fucking lied,' Lee replied calmly. 'And I didn't say, "Dump". I said, "Break up".'

'WHATEVER! THEY ALL MEAN THE SAME FUCKING THING!' Jack screamed. 'WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU BUY ME A TICKET TO VISIT RALPH AND THEN TELL ME THAT I HAVE TO BREAK UP WITH THE GUY!'

'It means that you have to hurt him, Jack,' Lee said, not looking his friend in the eye. 'I had a long talk with Mr. B about this, since he's been the fatherly figure for the better part of my life and all. We both agree that you have to hurt him. Do whatever it takes, Jack. Tell him that you found somebody else or something! You just have to hurt him!'

'I can't do that to him, you fucking bastard. I don't want to hurt him.'

'Then give me the ticket back.'

'NO!'

'Jack, this is for your own good.'

'Oh? Having Ralph hate me is for my own good?'

'Yes! This is so you know if he actually loves you!'

There was a very long pause.

'What?' Jack finally whispered.

'You heard me,' Lee responded. 'You're shitting your fucking heart out over this, so you may as well find out if it's worth it.'

'But why . . . why does it have to be like this?' Jack asked, slowly sinking down onto the mossy ground.

'Because of Erica.'

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Erica was one of Lee's ex-girlfriends. She was one who always flirted with the wild side, and that was a major understatement. Erica grew up as an orphan in the gutters of London. Her only guardians were her three older brothers, all of whom had gotten jailed at least once in their lives for not-so-minor crimes. Needless to say, their dangerous lifestyles greatly influenced her.

Lee had met her through a mutual friend (whom he constantly bet with) at the Underground, which was a club downtown; the two had immediately hit it off. In Lee's opinion, Erica was attractive, dangerous, fun to be with, and mysterious. Her last quality was the one that appealed to Lee the most. You definitely did not meet a lot of girls like her, and Lee was shocked that she had actually taken an interest in him. She was very interested in him. Later that night, he even had dark love bites all over his neck to prove how much she did.

One night, the night of their two-month anniversary, she had tried to persuade him to steal a car. He refused to at first, knowing that there was a very high possibility that he'd be caught, especially since he'd had no prior experience in the whole thievery business (unless that counted cheating people out of their money).

'Please, Lee,' she had pleaded, pouting prettily.

'But I might get caught.'

'Aw, you're no fun. I've never known you to ignore—let alone refuse—a challenge before.'

'This isn't a challenge, babe. This is a crime!'

'Please? Pretty please? For me?'

'No,' Lee responded flatly.

Then she had pulled out the "if you love me then you'll do this" card.

'But I thought that you loved me.'

'I do.'

'Then why won't you help me have a good time?'

'I want you to have a good time, babe,' he said, kissing her adoringly on the cheek, 'but not like this.'

'Please, darling, baby, sweetie, gorgeous . . . You know I'll "thank" you for it later.'

'"Thank" me?'

She winked.

Lee glanced at the car. Then back at her. Then at the car once more.

'Well, it is a pretty sweet ride.'

'So you'll do it?'

. . . The answer to her question now lay in the permanent files of the judicial police.

Yet despite all that had happened, Lee continued to date her once he got out of Juvenile Hall. And it had been Mr. B from Brown Cow, a guy he had known for the better part of his life, whom had finally talked some sense into him. Lee had thought that Erica sincerely loved him, but he was wrong.

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'Lee? Hey, Lee, man, you aight?' Jack inquired.

Lee snapped back into his senses.

'Look, Jack, I know that this is a lot to ask,' he said, continuing on as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't flown off to Memory Land. 'But, please . . . just do this for me, do this for yourself . . . do this for Ralph. He needs to know the answer, too. Besides, you're not actually "breaking up" with him. This is just a . . . temporary arrangement so that you can both figure out some things.'

'What "things"?'

'Well . . . how you really feel about each other.'

'But . . .' Jack trailed off. Lee made a valid point. After all, he had the life experiences to back up his arguments. 'How long does it have to be before I finally tell him the truth?'

'If he loves you, then just keep this a secret for the two weeks prior to your visit . . . if you still want to go,' Lee added as an afterthought. 'But if he doesn't, you're just going to have to let him go, man.'

'And what if he wants me back before the time is up? Does that mean that he loves me?'

'That's difficult to say, actually. He might still be in that "post-breakup" stage, so maybe it's best to wait for the two weeks to be over completely before you do anything.'

'But . . . Lee . . . Why do I have to hurt him?'

'Because if he really loved you, then he'd be able to forgive you for putting him through that pain,' Lee replied, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

'But . . . I need him, Lee. I don't want to hurt Ralph because I need him more than he needs me. He's the one who pulled me out of that fucking—forgive the pun—whore life!' Jack jumped to his feet. 'He convinced me that I was so much more than a slut!' Jack paused for a moment and a faint smile appeared on his face. 'Besides, he'll never ask me to steal a car.'

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Jack couldn't believe that he was actually going to do this. It was late in the evening and Jack had unwilling come home to carry through with his fate or, rather, the fate "assigned" to him by his supposed friend. His hand shook when he reached for the receiver and dialed Ralph's number. The telephone rang once . . . twice . . .

"Please say that he isn't home," Jack thought desperately, listening to the phone ring once more. "Please say that he isn't home! I don't want to do this . . . Yes!" The answering machine came on and Mrs. Macpherson's familiar voice happily greeted him. Jack smiled. "Oh well. I'll just have to tell Lee that truth. I tried, but he wasn't home, so I couldn't do it." The teen was just about to put the receiver down when Ralph's mother picked it up at the other end.

'Hello? Hello?' she asked quickly.

Jack stood there in shock, the phone poised on his shoulder.

'Is anyone there?' Mrs. Macpherson inquired.

'Er . . . Sorry, wrong number,' Jack murmured automatically. He didn't have the nerve to do this! What the hell was he thinking!

'Jack? Jack, dear? Is that you?'

Every curse word that Jack knew flew through his mind.

'Yes, Mrs. Macpherson, I hope you'll forgive the little joke, ma'am,' he said, forcing a weak chuckle out of his nervous (forgive the pun) system. 'How are you?'

'I'm fine, thanks. And yourself?'

'Just . . .fine . . .' he said nervously.

'Well, I expect that you'd like to talk to Ralph . . . Oh, silly me, of course you want to talk to Ralph!'

'Actually—' Jack began, but she cut him off.

'Here he is, dear,' she interrupted.

Not a moment later, Ralph answered.

'Hey, Jack! This is . . . another pleasant surprise. I was just about to call you, actually.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. There's something that I wanted to talk to you about.'

'Oh, that's . . . good . . . There's something that I wanted to talk to you about, too.' Jack fidgeted with the phone cord, grateful that Ralph couldn't see him in this state.

'Okay, I figured that since you called.'

'Right.'

'Well, you can go first.'

'No, that's all right. You go first.'

'But you're the one who called me. You should go first.'

'And now I'm giving you the privilege to go first.'

'Cut it out, Jack. What's up?'

'I . . . um . . . er . . . uh . . .' Jack had never found himself at such high degree of anxiety. He didn't like it. 'Is your mum still in the room?' he asked, trying to buy himself some time.

'No. She left already.'

'Oh . . . Well . . . I just wanted to say . . . that I . . . I . . .'

'Yes?'

Just then, he remembered Mrs. Macpherson's letter, where she warned—no, threatened—him not to break Ralph's heart . . . Could he really do this? In the long run, who was to say whose heart was more important? Jack or Ralph's?

But what if Lee was right? What if Ralph didn't really love him, but only thought that he did? Wouldn't it save them both the pain of heartache later if they found out now? So, really, Jack was doing them both a favour . . . right?

'I love you, Ralph.'

'I love you, too.'

Tear began to streak down Jack's chiseled cheek. He had finally made up his mind.

'But do you really, Ralph?'

'Huh?'

'Do your really love me?'

'What is this shit, Jack? Of course I love you! You . . . you taught me the meaning of love.'

More tears fell from Jack's eyes and his knees weakened; he leaned against the wall for support.

'I . . . I really . . . I really don't want to do this, Ralph . . .' the teens honestly said. 'But . . . but I . . .'

'Jack?'

'I think that we should break up!' Jack blurted out.

There. He said it. It was done. There was no way to take it back.

'Is this a joke?' Ralph asked, his voice cracking.

'Ralph . . .'

A brief silence passed between them before Ralph asked, 'What's his name?'

'What?'

'What's his name?' Ralph repeated firmly.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'JUST TELL ME WHAT HIS FUCKING NAME IS!' Ralph screamed into the phone.

'Even if there was, it wouldn't matter,' Jack replied. 'It's . . . us. I can't handle the distance, Ralph. I . . . I'm sorry. I'm only human. I can't wait forever, not even for someone as wonderful as you. . .'

'Did . . . did I ever have a place in your heart, Jack?'

'Yeah, you did,' Jack said. 'How could you even ask me that? You did have a place in my heart, babe.'

"You still do, Ralph!" his mind screamed.

'Don't . . . don't call me that, Jack. I'm not your 'babe', not anymore . . .'

Ouch. That statement went right to Jack's already-broken heart.

'But . . .' Ralph continued. '. . . but if I do still have a . . . a place in your heart,' he stuttered, 'I want you to release it. Just . . . release it. I don't want you to hold me in your heart at all, because that would close it off to others who are more deserving of your love . . . I just want you to know that . . . that my heart . . . my soul is open . . . is exposed to you and . . . and only you . . . but I don't want to have you burden yourself with the same . . . curse.' The teen inhaled a broken breath. 'You can love . . . whomsoever you'd like to, Jack . . . even if it's not . . . me . . . Goodbye.'

Then all that Jack heard was the dial tone.

Of all the breakups that Jack Merridew had endured (correction: caused), this had to be the most heart-wrenching experience . . . because this was the only one that mattered.

'I'm sorry, Ralph,' he said, sliding down to the floor. 'I am so sorry . . . Will you ever be able to forgive me?'