A month had passed since the last time Jane and Maura had seen each other, a month without making love, going on dates, or even hearing each other's voices. Jane had been stripped of her phone privileges for lying, so the two of them resorted to writing letters to each other that Mark would exchange for them. Sometimes, the two of them would enclose pictures and the letters were almost always scented. The scented, handwritten letters were all they had of each other, so they made sure to write straight from the heart. Jane and Maura felt as if they were in a forbidden romance and it would have been exciting had it not been so heartbreaking for the two of them.

Not for a second did Jane ever doubt Maura's fidelity to her, which is one of the many reasons why she felt so guilty about the two of them being forbidden to see each other. Her girlfriend was a beautiful young woman who was sought after by men and women alike. Maura could have her pick of many possible suitors, yet she remained faithful to her girlfriend whom she couldn't spend time with or even speak to on the phone. Jane felt as if she were imprisoning Maura and preventing her from having fun, but she'd never mention that to her. If she did, Jane feared that Maura would think she were doubting her love for her and doubting Maura's love was something Jane could never fathom herself doing. Maura has nothing to prove to me. I know how much she loves me, but does she know how much I love her?

The thought of Maura being unaware of the full extent of her love was enough to make Jane want to cry and she would have cried had she not been at work. She may have been without her girlfriend, but Jane still had to go about the mundane activities of her day-to-day life. There were still customers to ring up, classes to attend, and homework assignments to complete. She had celebrated Halloween and Thanksgiving without Maura and, if this continued, she realized she'd be spending Christmas and New Year's Eve without her, too. Don't freak out about Christmas. She was going to spend it with her parents and not you. Same with New Year's. She's probably going to be somewhere with them, too. Or maybe she'll be alone on New Year's. She can't be alone that night. We need to have our first New Year's Eve kiss.

Jane's thoughts were interrupted when a teenage girl approached the cash register with a Boyz II Men cassette in hand. Jane never particularly cared for Boyz II Men, but their song "I'll Make Love To You" was one of the tracks Maura had put on the mix tape she had given to her the last time they saw each other. Over the past month, that tape never left Jane's stereo, not just because Maura had made it for her, but because Maura had spent hours selecting certain tracks that described everything she was feeling for Jane. Jane liked to think of that tape as being more intimate than a diary and almost like a confession. They were the words Maura dared not speak, herself, and when Jane realized that, she made yet another tape for Maura in return.

Exchanging mix tapes became a more intimate form of communication for them when they felt as if letters just weren't enough. There was never a theme to the tapes because they felt as if themes confined them. Jane and Maura merely chose songs that described their feelings for each other or songs that described their situation. Sometimes the songs were sensual, other times they were playful or even heartbreaking. They'd select songs from their own generation, but mostly they'd choose songs from generations past because these songs gave them hope for their future. If other couples could survive heartache, so could they. They thought about what life must have been like for the couples who slow-danced to these songs or dedicated these songs to each other when they were new. Maura was used to facts, but for Jane she was willing to partake in a game she had created. They'd imagine themselves in different scenarios with the songs and, as immature as it sounded to their friends, it became a coping mechanism for Jane and Maura. In the stories they created with the songs, there were no broken hearts, no restrictions, and they'd go on adventures together and experience things with each other that they couldn't experience outside of these fantasies.

Jane watched the hands on the clock move achingly slow as she waited for four o'clock to approach, which is when Mark's shift began. Mark had spent the entire afternoon in Maura's dorm and, although he was there to see Markie, Jane was jealous of him for having the privilege of spending time under the same roof as her girl. If not for these restrictions, Maura would have visited The Basement and brought her something to eat for lunch or for dinner just as she did almost every day Jane worked. The lunches were never anything more than peanut butter and fluff sandwiches or cookies, but Jane knew bringing something to eat was just an excuse for the two of them to see each other.

"I have something for you, man," Mark said as he entered The Basement.

"From Maura?" Jane asked, hopefully.

"No, man, from Santa Claus," he responded. Jane watched as he searched his pockets and pulled out a cassette with a piece of paper folded around it.

Under normal circumstances, she would have made a sarcastic comment, but Mark had been serving as the only liaison between her and Maura, so she decided to keep the comments to herself. Without so much as a word exchanged between them, Jane grabbed the cassette and popped it into the boom box behind the counter.

"Not this mix tape shit," Mark groaned. "Damn it, Jane. You turn off Alice In Chains for this?"

"It's from Maura," Jane pleaded with him, although it didn't matter what Mark thought. Jane had received a tape from her girlfriend and it was staying on, regardless.

December 2, 1994

My dear Janefriend,

It's been thirty-four days since we've last seen each other and thirty-three days since I've last heard your voice. I'm grateful we can communicate via letters and mix tapes, but no amount of songs or printed words can compare to the feeling I get when you hold me.

The semester ends in one week and I'll be leaving Boston shortly after for the holidays. I sincerely hope this can be resolved by then. I won't return until early January and I don't want to spend another month without any form of communication with my girlfriend. Over the past thirty-four days we've had Mark to deliver our letters, but while I'm gone we'll be cut off from each other entirely.

I think about you every second of every day. Please tell me this will all be over soon.

Forever your devoted girlfriend,

Maura

P.S. I know we don't use themes, but I've decided to go with a Christmas theme for this mix tape.

Jane tucked the letter behind the second piece of paper, which contained the scenario Maura had written for the song that was currently playing.

"I'll Be Home For Christmas"—Bing Crosby

It's December of 1942 and I've been serving as a nurse overseas for the past six months. I am only twenty-years-old and I've already witnessed so much of the travesty of war, but I won't feel sorry for myself. There are soldiers I'm tending to who are even younger than I am! I see wounded soldiers on a daily basis. Many of their names escape me, but I can never forget their faces. Some recover and return to the battlefield while others return home with their injuries. The majority of them are young men around our age or slightly older, some are married and have young children while others are single. The young, single men are the ones I have to watch out for. They flirt with me constantly, Jane! It's harmless and not once have I been swayed by any of their words. What they don't know is I have a sweetheart in Boston who is a real-life Rosie The Riveter. At night, while the other women are fantasizing about their husbands or boyfriends or even Clark Gable, I'm fantasizing about you operating a drill and the combination of dirt and sweat on your skin. It has been six months since I've seen you, but I still remember what it feels like to kiss your lips and make love to you.

There are Christmas songs playing on the radio and I can't bring myself to stop paying attention to them. This is our first Christmas as a couple and it's a tragedy that we must be apart. I love you, Jane, and we'll always be together, even if it's only in our dreams.

Jane held the pages up to her nose and lightly inhaled the familiar floral scent of Ralph Lauren Romance. That scent enabled her to return to a time when her life was less complicated and revolved around seeing Maura on a regular basis or even the hours after their night at Stuevie's when all Jane would fantasize about was what it must feel like to kiss Maura.

"This is all your fault," she told Mark out of nowhere.

"For telling her to go over that night?"

"That and for making me go to Stuevie's three months ago," Jane pointed out. "I was fine before I met her and now that I know she exists and I know what it's like to be with her, I can't function without her."

Mark gave her a confused look. "You want me to apologize for setting you up with some beautiful girl who ended up falling so crazy fucking in love with you? She's your soul mate, Jane. Face it."

"I miss the days when you and I used to hang out on the bridge."

"Like common trolls?" Mark added.

"Yeah," Jane smiled. "Life was easy and nothing hurt. She's still my girlfriend, Mark, and she's faithful to me, so why does it hurt so much?"

"You need her," Mark pointed out. "There's nothing wrong with that, but what you need to do is grow some balls, Jane. I know they're your parents but Maura is your girl. She's in bad shape, man. It's like she's not even Maura anymore. She's just like this empty shell of a woman who goes through the motions of her daily routine and then fucking cries into her pillow at night. Do you really want Maura to keep going through that?"

"I'm eighteen," Jane told him. "I'm an adult and they need to start treating me like one. Okay, so I was going to have sex with my girlfriend at home—so what? It's not something I deserve to be punished for week after week and it's not something Maura deserves to be punished for."

"You know what you should do, man? Like, what you should tell your parents?"

"What?" Jane asked, although she immediately knew she wasn't going to heed his advice when it came to what to tell her parents.

Mark hopped over the counter so he could be next to Jane. "You should have a talk with them in the living room and just be like, 'I'm eighteen now, Mom and Dad. I'm legally of age to buy cigarettes and porn and go to strip clubs.' If that doesn't work, blame the media. Say, 'Mom and Dad, sex is everywhere—TV, movies, music, all over the fucking place. Even Nike is telling me to 'just do it.' They can't argue with that, man."

"You know why they can't argue with it?" Jane asked angrily. "Because it makes no sense, Mark."

"But they'll be so wrapped up in trying to figure out what the fuck you're talking about that it won't matter," Mark pointed out.

Jane lightly banged her head on the glass countertop in hopes that it would help her forget what Mark had just said. "Mark, I hate you. I hate you so much."

"Jane!" Jerry shouted as he walked onto the sales floor. "If your head breaks the glass, it's coming out of your paycheck."

"Okay," Jane said as she laid her head against the glass.

"Jane?"

"Yes?" Jane mumbled while her face was still pressed against the glass countertop.

"We're going to have a talk," Jerry insisted. "Mark, go make yourself useful."

"How?" Mark asked.

"Go alphabetize something," Jerry suggested. "I don't care. Just get out of here."

"Yes, sir," Mark said before saluting him.

And this is when I get fired.

"You're not getting fired," Jerry insisted. "I know that's what you're worried about. We're gonna talk about Maura. From what I've heard you and Mark talk about and by the way you're acting, things aren't going so great with her."

"They aren't," Jane mumbled.

"I like Maura," Jerry admitted. "Maura is a good kid and I can tell she loves you. Why else would she drive all the way from her school just to bring you a sandwich?"

"She does love me," Jane smiled. "I love her, too."

"I know you do," Jerry told her. "And she's good for you. You've grown up a lot since you've started dating her. I know how you kids are with stories about the past, but I'm going to tell you one and you can do what you wish with it."

"Anything is better than Mark's porn, strip club, and Nike talk," Jane insisted.

"Yeah, but consider the source," Jerry pointed out. "Mark is…he's…Mark. But I want to tell you that you and Maura remind me of Carol and myself when we were your age. We were young, in love, and our parents thought we'd never make it but here we are twenty-seven years later still married and still crazy about each other. We were going to get married right out of high school, but instead, our parents kept us apart so, one night, I snuck over to her house and we ran away together and got married."

"Are you saying I should run away with Maura?" Jane asked.

"I'm not saying anything," Jerry shrugged. "All I told you was to do what you wish with this story."

Jane started to fidget. "Is it possible to do something like that still? It's not the '60s anymore."

"It doesn't matter if it's 1994 or 1967," Jerry pointed out. "Music, clothes, and hairstyles change, but young love remains the same."

He was right. Jane knew he was right. Jane and Maura loved each other and there was no doubt in Jane's mind that they deserved to be together. Jane no longer cared about the restrictions. Her Maura was crying for her every night and she was going to make sure she'd never have to shed another tear.