After We've Said Goodbye chapter 3
By Carolyn, Carolyn984@aol.com
"I will go down with this ship
I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love, and always will be. . ." Dido, "White Flag"
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Okay, to say I was "surprised" would have been a massive, colossal understatement. Try completely, totally, knocked out of my socks. It was probably a good thing that I wasn't on my bunk bed, because I probably would've toppled right off. For a few moments, I swear I couldn't breathe. My heart stopped.
"Oh... oh, my God..."
Jesse. Jesse was *here*. *Jesse* was HERE.
Tangent, secant, cosecant—who the hell cares?
"Hello, Querida."
Words were not forthcoming, I'd like to inform you. I mean, thousands, and I mean thousands, of times, I have sit here, plaguing my mind over what I would say if he ever somehow came back to me, and here I was, completely at a loss. Oh God, Suze... say *something*. . .
"How. . . what are you doing here?"
Okay, now that was definitely not in the script. I mean, 'what are you doing here?' For God's sake! Way to make a guy feel welcome. Sometimes I think all those concussions I've gotten must have done some permanent damage. I. Am. So. Stupid.
"I mean. . . Jesse. . . ho—"
"Shh, Susannah. . . it is not important," he said quietly, placing a long tan finger over my lips. His dark, omniscient eyes locked into mine, and something passed through us. I don't know what, but it was definitely something. All that bottled up passion and longing that had been trapped for the past six months spilled out through our eyes.
And then I had to go and do something that, looking back at it now, I realize most definitely spoiled what should have been a wonderful, spectacular moment of reunion.
"Not important?! Are you *joking*? Jesse, I haven't seen you. . . I mean, you've been gone for six months," not that I had been counting, or anything, "and now you're back and trying to tell me that it's not important?"
Jesse sighed, taking his hand away. It so figures that when I find my voice, the inner Suze that likes to jump into confrontation has to surface and destroy what romantic Suze would like to savor and cherish. It so figures.
"Susannah, it was not my choice. I would not have left if it were up to me. I was called."
My first thought in my still-shocked state of mind was that he meant called on the telephone, and I felt kind of insulted that whoever called was more important than us, but then I realized that was so not what he meant. He meant called by, like, the astral plane, or whatever. Any antagonism that was in my voice before quickly shriveled up and died.
"You. . . what happened?"
Jesse opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted.
Okay, let me tell you something else about college. Unless you are willing and able to shell out a few extra hundred dollars per semester for a single room, you will have a roommate. This roommate can, and will, enter and leave the room at will (not yours, unfortunately), interrupting private moments with the ghost of the man whom you have not seen in over half a year. Who, might I add, was about to give you the explanation that you have been waiting for since the day he disappeared.
Yeah, sharing a room with a dead guy, I can handle. A living, breathing teenage girl? Now that's a whole different box of crayons.
"Hi, Suze," Laura greeted as she entered, tossing her Prada knock-off on her bed in exhaustion. "What's up?"
I was numb. No, no no no *no*! Not now!
She eyed me curiously when I didn't answer, and said, "Well, Phi Sig is having a mixer with TKE tomorrow night, if you want to go. I'm giving rides at nine."
Phi Sig was Laura's sorority, and as usual on Thursday nights, they were having a party with one of the fraternities that they frequently got together with. Did I mention that frat parties and the like are not my thing? Aside from the fact that I don't drink, just the thought of them brings back too many awful memories of Dopey's hot tub party, which led to Paul and Jesse knocking the snot out of each other, a trip to the netherworld, and a destroyed china cabinet that I'm sure I'm still paying for, although no one knows it was my fault. Either way.
"Um. . . maybe. I still have this essay to type," I managed to say, unable to tear my eyes away from Jesse, who was standing over me. He cast an impatient glance at my roommate, who showed no signs of leaving. As a matter of fact, she showed all intentions of getting changed into her pajamas and calling it a night early, if the way she grabbed her toothbrush and face wash and headed for the bathroom was any indication. I'm sure that, to Jesse, it was just like that week when Gina stayed with us all over again, except that my roommate wouldn't be leaving on Sunday. Nope, she was staying around.
When she closed the door to the bathroom, which was connected to the room next to us, suite-style, I whispered to Jesse, "Meet me outside. . . at the, um. . ." I tried to think of a place that wouldn't be populated by my fellow college students at 10:38pm on a beautiful Wednesday night. That pretty much excluded any place outside. "Um. . . oh, meet me on the balcony down the hall."
'Balcony' is a term I use loosely with the structure. It's more like ledge, actually, with a railing that I wouldn't trust my life with, and cracked tiles. Its unpleasant appearance was really the only reason that no one ever goes out on it, considering that the view it gives is actually quite spectacular, overlooking the ocean and all. I really think I'm the only one who ever goes out on it; to be honest, it reminded me of the view from my window seat at home, and well, can you blame me for having wanted to hold that close to me?
With that, Jesse disappeared, casting his eyes sternly at me with a look that could only be described as relieved. One that told me that he, too, had been waiting, waiting for me as long as I have been for him.
At last, at long, unbearable, impenetrable last, the wait was over.
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Chapter 4 coming soon!
© 2004 by Carolyn
By Carolyn, Carolyn984@aol.com
"I will go down with this ship
I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love, and always will be. . ." Dido, "White Flag"
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay, to say I was "surprised" would have been a massive, colossal understatement. Try completely, totally, knocked out of my socks. It was probably a good thing that I wasn't on my bunk bed, because I probably would've toppled right off. For a few moments, I swear I couldn't breathe. My heart stopped.
"Oh... oh, my God..."
Jesse. Jesse was *here*. *Jesse* was HERE.
Tangent, secant, cosecant—who the hell cares?
"Hello, Querida."
Words were not forthcoming, I'd like to inform you. I mean, thousands, and I mean thousands, of times, I have sit here, plaguing my mind over what I would say if he ever somehow came back to me, and here I was, completely at a loss. Oh God, Suze... say *something*. . .
"How. . . what are you doing here?"
Okay, now that was definitely not in the script. I mean, 'what are you doing here?' For God's sake! Way to make a guy feel welcome. Sometimes I think all those concussions I've gotten must have done some permanent damage. I. Am. So. Stupid.
"I mean. . . Jesse. . . ho—"
"Shh, Susannah. . . it is not important," he said quietly, placing a long tan finger over my lips. His dark, omniscient eyes locked into mine, and something passed through us. I don't know what, but it was definitely something. All that bottled up passion and longing that had been trapped for the past six months spilled out through our eyes.
And then I had to go and do something that, looking back at it now, I realize most definitely spoiled what should have been a wonderful, spectacular moment of reunion.
"Not important?! Are you *joking*? Jesse, I haven't seen you. . . I mean, you've been gone for six months," not that I had been counting, or anything, "and now you're back and trying to tell me that it's not important?"
Jesse sighed, taking his hand away. It so figures that when I find my voice, the inner Suze that likes to jump into confrontation has to surface and destroy what romantic Suze would like to savor and cherish. It so figures.
"Susannah, it was not my choice. I would not have left if it were up to me. I was called."
My first thought in my still-shocked state of mind was that he meant called on the telephone, and I felt kind of insulted that whoever called was more important than us, but then I realized that was so not what he meant. He meant called by, like, the astral plane, or whatever. Any antagonism that was in my voice before quickly shriveled up and died.
"You. . . what happened?"
Jesse opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted.
Okay, let me tell you something else about college. Unless you are willing and able to shell out a few extra hundred dollars per semester for a single room, you will have a roommate. This roommate can, and will, enter and leave the room at will (not yours, unfortunately), interrupting private moments with the ghost of the man whom you have not seen in over half a year. Who, might I add, was about to give you the explanation that you have been waiting for since the day he disappeared.
Yeah, sharing a room with a dead guy, I can handle. A living, breathing teenage girl? Now that's a whole different box of crayons.
"Hi, Suze," Laura greeted as she entered, tossing her Prada knock-off on her bed in exhaustion. "What's up?"
I was numb. No, no no no *no*! Not now!
She eyed me curiously when I didn't answer, and said, "Well, Phi Sig is having a mixer with TKE tomorrow night, if you want to go. I'm giving rides at nine."
Phi Sig was Laura's sorority, and as usual on Thursday nights, they were having a party with one of the fraternities that they frequently got together with. Did I mention that frat parties and the like are not my thing? Aside from the fact that I don't drink, just the thought of them brings back too many awful memories of Dopey's hot tub party, which led to Paul and Jesse knocking the snot out of each other, a trip to the netherworld, and a destroyed china cabinet that I'm sure I'm still paying for, although no one knows it was my fault. Either way.
"Um. . . maybe. I still have this essay to type," I managed to say, unable to tear my eyes away from Jesse, who was standing over me. He cast an impatient glance at my roommate, who showed no signs of leaving. As a matter of fact, she showed all intentions of getting changed into her pajamas and calling it a night early, if the way she grabbed her toothbrush and face wash and headed for the bathroom was any indication. I'm sure that, to Jesse, it was just like that week when Gina stayed with us all over again, except that my roommate wouldn't be leaving on Sunday. Nope, she was staying around.
When she closed the door to the bathroom, which was connected to the room next to us, suite-style, I whispered to Jesse, "Meet me outside. . . at the, um. . ." I tried to think of a place that wouldn't be populated by my fellow college students at 10:38pm on a beautiful Wednesday night. That pretty much excluded any place outside. "Um. . . oh, meet me on the balcony down the hall."
'Balcony' is a term I use loosely with the structure. It's more like ledge, actually, with a railing that I wouldn't trust my life with, and cracked tiles. Its unpleasant appearance was really the only reason that no one ever goes out on it, considering that the view it gives is actually quite spectacular, overlooking the ocean and all. I really think I'm the only one who ever goes out on it; to be honest, it reminded me of the view from my window seat at home, and well, can you blame me for having wanted to hold that close to me?
With that, Jesse disappeared, casting his eyes sternly at me with a look that could only be described as relieved. One that told me that he, too, had been waiting, waiting for me as long as I have been for him.
At last, at long, unbearable, impenetrable last, the wait was over.
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Chapter 4 coming soon!
© 2004 by Carolyn