Apples to Ashes

The first few days after learning about Jacob Gripp were nothing short of excruciating. I spent every day, and every hour of every day wondering if he and the Jacob I’d come to adore so suddenly and intensely were indeed one in the same. For at least two weeks I debated whether I should ask him his last name straight out. I waited for the opportune moment, but it never came. The question was always too random, too strange, too out-of-place. It just wasn’t something that came up in conversation. I tried on numerous occasions to peek at his assignments, but I swear he never wrote his last name, as if to torture me. At some point I considered asking him to see his school ID, but found no way to justify that request either, so eventually I gave up. Then the day came when we had a substitute in Spanish.

She was young and inexperienced, and a bit timid, but she was nice enough. Her sweater with its stretched out sleeves and her frayed jeans made her seem as if she was just another student. She didn’t tell us that we couldn’t talk to our friends, or make us do any tedious, boring assignments just for the hell of it. She only asked that we remained quiet while she took role.

“Renee Almida?”

“Here,” he replied in a gravelly baritone.

“Tracy Beckford?”

“Here,” she chirped softly.

The sub went on in her pleasant voice, smiling every now and then when someone would reply with a booming “Present!” or a “Buenas tardes!” I thought nothing of the routine until she called out for Frank Gonzalez; then I realized that the next name, or maybe the one after that—but hopefully the one ten or fifteen names after that—could either crush me or relieve my burning doubts.

“Sharon Gonzalez?” There was no reply. “Sharon?”

“Oh, get on with it already,” I murmured under my breath.

“You say something?” Jacob asked. I’d been so intently focused on what the next moments could bring that I’d forgotten he was sitting right in front of me.

“No, nothing,” I smiled nervously. He shrugged and turned around.

“All right, looks like there’s no Sharon...” the sub went on. Nice as she was, I felt like killing her right then. She slowly and deliberately marked her absent before moving on. “All right, where was I? Oh, yes: Jacob? Jacob Gripp?”

What happened in the moments after the lean, dimpled boy before me raised his hand and stated his presence loudly and clearly I remember too well. There was a suppressed gasp and some brief dizziness, but more than anything, I remember the feeling of my heart hitting the floor beneath me.

Even though the unquestionable truth sat before me with a dimply grin, I could not bring myself to believe it. The denial showed in the form of nausea.

“Are you all right, Trina?” asked the traitor. No, it wasn’t his fault that I was falling for him, and fast. It was true that he was a heart-breaker by choice—only he could be blamed for that—but no one had forced me to bend and break the rules of my faith. It was my fault for allowing myself to become so hopelessly caught in his grip.

I shook my head. “No, I’m—I feel nauseous all of a sudden. I think I need to go to the nurse.”

At that moment the substitute called my name and as I shakily stated my presence, I also asked for a nurse’s pass.

The snake’s face—the angel’s face twisted to fit the expression of worry it had worn in my dream so long ago. “Would you like me to escort you?”

“No,” I mumbled as I got up to receive a green hall pass. “I’d rather go alone.”

I practically stumbled out of the classroom with my head swirling and my heart breaking. I pictured his smile, I pictured looking into his deep, warm eyes, I remembered the chills that look gave me; and then I imagined Caitlyn, and a dozen other girls, getting the same chill. My world turned to black and white static before the ground rushed up to meet me.
__________________________________***

I awoke from a nightmare to find myself in a dimly lit, unfamiliar room. I began to panic. Where was I? How many hours had passed? I shot upright but became dizzy and fell back down onto my blue cot.

“Hey, hey,” soothed a disgustingly beautiful voice from my dreams, from my nightmare, from heaven, from hell. “Take it easy, you fainted. You're in the nurse's office.”

I looked to my left to identify the speaker, but there was no need. I could pick that voice out of a screaming crowd. Flustered and still slightly dizzy I chirped, “Jacob?”

“The one and only,” he replied. Although my eyes were still adjusting to the weak light, I could see the grin in his voice.

“How long have I been knocked out?” I asked. The first question I should have asked, though, was why he of all people was there, watching me sleep.

“Only about an hour,” he said. “Looks like you’re going to miss sixth period.”

I raised my eyebrows in sincere alarm. “Oh crap, I can’t miss sixth, I’ve got a test!” I blurted out before I could think.

Jacob chuckled. “Relax; you passed out for Pete’s sake. I think that’s excusable. You can take that test some other time.”

Suddenly, the memories that had made me faint in the first place flooded my mind. I couldn’t stay here in this dimly lit room with him. At this point there was no telling what might happen. I had to get out. “No, no, I’m feeling much better now,” I lied. “I think I’d better try to get to sixth period.”

As I got up to leave, my knees buckled. Instinctively, Jacob reached out to catch me. His touch turned me to gelatin. He looked at me intensely. “First of all, you are not all right, so stay put. Second of all, there’s only fifteen minutes left of school.” He smiled. “Smart as you are, I doubt you can finish a test in fifteen minutes.”

I couldn’t help but let the smallest hint of a smile creep onto my face. “You’ve got a point there,” I said. “I guess there’s no reason to leave.”

“That’s absolutely right. Besides, if you left now, I couldn’t do this.”

Still giddy from a contact high, I asked, “Do what?”

At first he answered not with words but with actions. He stood before me and then kneeled, proposal-style, and produced a small, wilted daisy from his shirt pocket. “Ask you on a date.”