I've Learned to Play on the Safe Side

The release that let me out of the hospital was signed a week and a half later. I could have been let out several days earlier, but I kept faking faint and dizzy. For some reason, I didn't want to go back to school. I had decided to take advantage of this break in my fucked-up life. So I spent the next eleven days succumbing to blood and urine tests, watching tv on the pint-sized screen in the corner of my room, politely greeting the nurses that entered my room randomly for no apparent reason besides it was in their job contract to do so, reading the stupid Teen magazines the staff for some reason thought I would enjoy, and eating the plastic-tasting food I was practically force-fed while a doctor would supervise, making sure I really did eat my entire meal.

Actually, I whiled away a lot of the hours just lying on the metal bed, gazing absentmindedly at the ceiling, thinking. About the reason I was here. About the scars on my arms the nurses spent too much time obsessing over. About my parents. And about Jake.

To be fair, my parents visited me every day. Every afternoon, they would pick Jamie up on their way back from work, and stop by to check up on how I was doing. I suspect we might actually have had some more civil conversations, if I hadn't made up my mind to communicate with them as little as possible. When I spoke to them, I rarely used phrases longer than "no" or "I guess". I could tell my attitude hurt both of them, but I had convinced myself they both deserved what I was giving them.

Actually, the only reason I even consented to let them visit me was because I had forced them to sign a form that allowed Alex and Jake into the room as well. They, too, visited me almost every day without fail, arriving within minutes of my family, as their school and Jamie's let out at the same time. After entering my room with Jamie in tow, asking how I was, and then realizing I was no more likely to talk civilly to them than I had been the day before; my parents stood outside the room making polite conversation with my nurses and gazing begrudgingly at Alex and Jake as they were led into the room. It was then Jamie shed her barely-contained calm and morphed into the untiring chatterbox I knew her to be. I almost lived for this hour or so every day, when I was surrounded by the three people I knew cared about me most. It felt amazing to be surrounded by such genuine concern and worry I had unconsciously began to doubt even existed.

As I mentioned, spending your days pretending to be asleep on a hospital bed leaves you with plenty of free time. Which meant I had had lots of time to think. And feel. And think about how I felt.

For the first time in over a year, I had replayed the scene in the alley over and over and over again in my head. It was incredibly painful and it left me with nightmares that woke me up sweating and screaming and surrounded by beeping monitors and frantic doctors, but it had forced me to analyze the whirlwind of emotions that overwhelmed me whenever I thought about Jake. For the first time, I was picturing the apology and anxiety in his eyes that night. Whenever my memory forced me to zoom in on the crystal-clear image it had stored of his large, dark hazel eyes- which had, for those few moments, been completely open and swamped with his emotions- I had the desperate, unmaintainable urge to just hold him and reassure him everything would be ok. The same urge I had gotten when my dad had been bruising my arm as he dragged me down the front steps of his house. The same urge I had gotten as I had looked back at him sitting in the booth of the fast-food restaurant, after I had kissed Alex as he watched from a few yards away.

Any sane person can't have their nose rubbed in the right decision for so many hours before finally succumbing to it. Although my body protested, my mind ached to love Jake again. Which was why I told Jamie to call him and tell him he and Alex were welcome in my room whenever they wanted to be there.

The fear would return whenever Jake walked through the door, but I would force myself to remember his eyes that night. And slowly, every fiber of me wanted- needed- Jake back.

Jamie had told me how happy he had been when she had told him I wanted him to visit me. And even when he was just sitting on my bed, listening to Alex, Jamie, and I talk, his face was lit up like a little kid's at Christmas time. It was the ecstatic kind of happiness I remembered from before- the kind, I remembered, that made you feel like you could do anything.

It bothered me, though, how little he spoke to Alex. I had a hunch why, and, once, I told him I wanted to talk to him for a second. I told him exactly what had happened in the restaurant- about how I was the one who had kissed Alex [it hurt me to let him know that, just days after I had realized wanted him back] and how Alex had pushed me away. He just thanked me for mentioning it, but I noticed that his attitude towards his best friend slowly but surely warmed up.

When I got out of the hospital, it was a Wednesday. I announced I was feeling too sick to attend school the next day. I felt, as I had just spent almost two weeks in the hospital, this was an excuse even my parents would have to be forced to accept. I was wrong.

I used Jamie's phone that night to call Alex and tell him I wanted to meet him and Jake at the same fast-food restaurant during lunch break the next day. He agreed to the plan immediately, despite the fact that he and Jake would probably be late getting back to school again, as they had to take the bus across the entire city.

As soon as I walked through the double doors of my high school the next morning, whispers began to spiral out of nowhere like wisps of smoke. "She's back." "Someone told me she was in the hospital because she tried to kill herself." "You weren't there? She FAINTED during gym class." "Probably too much blood loss." "I thought she'd transferred. It's not like she has any friends." The comments stung like daggers. I tried to hide in my hoodie and behind my earphones. I tried to make myself numb, like I had become so good at. But I had never been exposed to these kind of mutterings. They followed me like a sinister shadow, hovering over me, until lunch. I was glad to get off the campus. I felt like I was taking a breath of fresh air. I had felt choked.

The first thing I did when I saw Jake and Alex waving at me from "our" booth was run over and hug them. It was the first time I had let Jake touch me since "The Incident" without cringing. I had hoped that one gesture would be enough to make him understand. For once, I was right.

Alex ordered me a salad, and he and Jake didn't take their eyes off of me until I had finished the entire thing. It felt enormous. I felt bloated and I wanted to puke. But I smiled and said it was good.

At the end of an hour, we got up and I walked with them to the bus stop just a building down. While we were waiting the fifteen minutes for the bus, Alex said he "fancied a walk". After making numerous comments on how Jake and I had been sure had been time-transported from the nineteenth century and we hadn't wanted to mention it to avoid being rude, we watched him walk around the corner, grinning like idiots. I loved Alex. Not like I loved Jake. But that was proof he always knew exactly what to do.

Jake seemed to sense Alex's intentions, too, because the care-free atmosphere suddenly seemed to float away. The two of us were left standing there, feeling awkward. I looked at my shoes. Jake combed his hair with his fingers. After a few seconds, we both broke the silence at the same time.

"Ashlee-"
"Jake-"

"What?"
"What?"

"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."

I looked at Jake, surprised. He looked at me, shocked.

"For what?"
"For what?"

We both began to laugh, then stopped as we realized the seriousness of the moment. I finally cleared my throat.

"For not talking to you for a year. I-I'm sorry, because what you did wasn't your fault. And I'm sorry I hated you for it." As an afterthought, I added, "And I'm sorry for yelling at you last time. I was just angry."

"B-But... well, first of all, don't be sorry for yelling at me. You were right. Alex has said... m-m-m-my d-d-dad u-used to say it... that I shut myself off. I'm glad you said it, too."

He's got to be kidding, I thought. He's happy I yelled at him?

"And, also, the reason I... well, I'm sorry, for... for, well, you know. I hated hurting you, Ashlee. You're beautiful. I wanted to kill myself after what I did." He hesitantly reached out to touch my face, and when I didn't protest, he gently brushed a strand of hair out of my eye.

"J-Jake... but, why? It wasn't your fault. You didn't do anything."

"Maybe." He looked at me, like he was begging me to understand. I reached forward, and kissed him. Just a small peck. It felt weird. But I wanted him to know everything was ok. And I didn't have the words to.

A kid waiting for the bus, too, catcalled. We ignored him. Jake looked at me. "S-So you don't... like Alex?"

I actually smiled. "No. Alex is one of my best friends. But it wasn't like that. It was..." I decided to tell Jake. After all, I was the one who had yelled at him for keeping secrets from me. "It was that I needed someone to love. And I thought you didn't like- love- me. Please, please, please don't think I was just using him." Even though I was. "Or that I'm just using you." My smile faded and tears started to form as that frightening thought worked itself into my mind.

To my relief, Jake smiled. "I know you're not, Ashlee. I know."

Just then, the bus pulled up, and Alex sprinted back to us. Out of breath, he began telling us off for being "lovebirds". I hugged them both as they got on the bus.

The whispers didn't let up after lunch, but all through the afternoon, I walked around in a little bubble, unaware of them. I was determined to let absolutely nothing ruin the way I felt.

It took weeks of persuading, threats involving me running away or landing myself in the hospital again, and phone calls from Alex's mom [my parents absolutely refused to negotiate with Jake's, my dad still referring to her and Jake as "those people" as if he was scared they'd kidnap me and sell me as a slave in Mexico] to break through my parents' overprotective rules, which hadn't relented over the year; but finally I was allowed to hang out with Alex and Jake once a week, as long as Alex's mom was always there, supervising. That didn't include the several lunch periods a month we would also spend together.

I had always laughed at people when they had told me being in love was like having an invisible thread between you and your boyfriend. Like you could read each other's thoughts and know each other's feelings. Like you were two halves who needed the other to be complete. Now, I knew it was completely true. Jake was almost literally my therapist. [It seemed the hospital had been very insistent I visit a shrink who specialized in eating disorders. The one they recommended hadn't exactly worked out. Even before my first appointment, I had decided I would not cooperate. It was my body; I did not want somebody else telling me what to do with it. I wanted to retain the feeling of being in complete control of it. After a few sessions, my parents gave up and I stopped going. But it didn't matter. Around Jake, I felt less self-conscious of my body image. I felt comfortable eating more. I also subconsciously stopped cutting so much. The scars on my arms grew white, although they would never completely fade.] He kept me healthy, happy, and alive. I felt myself wanting him to live my life with me. I wanted him to know everything about me. I was terrified of life without him.

[Four years later]

Jake was softly kissing me, and I was passionately returning the favor. I felt his large, strong, safe hands caress my neck and shoulders. We were sitting on his bed. His sister and mom were out. Although we were both in college, we both still lived at home. Jake had said he didn't have any reason to move out- he loved his family, and I could see why. As for me, well, although The Incident had been five years ago, my parents weren't about to let me go across the city by myself, much less live alone.

Five years since The Incident. It seemed like so much longer. Sure, I still had nightmares. But I had realized I didn't have to let it define me. I had realized it could become a memory, a part of my past and not a part of my future. Mostly thanks to Jake.

Ok, so it hadn't been completely roses and rainbows. We were two different people. We fought. We cried over each other. We yelled. We ran to Alex and Jamie, telling them how horrible the other was. But we always came back to each other. I felt safer with Jake than I felt anywhere else. Finally, finally, I wasn't scared. It had taken five years. But I wasn't scared.

"Jake?" I whispered, barely breathing onto his soft lips.

"Mmhmm?"

"I... I... I just want you to know I'm ready."

Jake pulled away, but kept his hands wrapped around my neck. "You're ready?"

"Yeah."

"You're sure?"

"Y-Yeah." I gulped. "I'm sure."

"Ashlee, it's ok if you're not. I can wait. I don't want to hurt you."

"No, it's ok. I'm fine."

"Ok. So..."

"Now."

"Now?"

"Please Jake. I love you." I let myself fall onto his chest, let his hands travel to my back, holding me to him. I let him carry me to the other side of the bed, let him gently lay me down. I slowly began to remove my hoodie. Then my shirt. After making sure I was positive of what I was doing, Jake removed his shirt and lay on the bed beside me, pulling me close to him once more. I snuggled close to him, in my bra and jeans, him in his jeans. I felt the cold flesh on my stomach touch the warm flesh on his. I softly began to kiss his chest, and he rubbed my back. I moved downwards. Now I was kissing his stomach. Now the skin above his belt. I knew he was trying to take this slow, trying to make sure we were both ready after what had happened, but he couldn't help but moan. I smiled and crawled back up, until we were face to face. He leaned forward and kissed me, running one hand through my hair and leaving the other draped over my hip. At first, the kiss was slow. Then it became more passionate. Then we both opened our lips. Our tongues began to furiously explore the other's mouth. I felt myself roll on top of Jake, pressing myself closer to him as I felt the passion in the kiss increase. Before I could think twice and stop myself, I removed my jeans. Now I was lying on top of him in my bra and underwear. I looked at him. He raised one eyebrow and gave me a look that plainly said "You started it. Do what you wanna do." I grinned, unhooked his belt, and slowly slid his jeans down his legs, then lay back down on top of me. I felt him getting hard. I was getting more and more turned on. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, then placed his hands on the clasp on my bra. He slowly began to undo it. I sat up as he pulled my bra off me. Suddenly, he rolled over, so I was trapped underneath him.

"You're sure you're sure?" he said, smiling at me in a way that let me know unpredictable, fun-loving Jake had woken up.

I nodded.

"Because there's no turning back now."

We both grinned, breathing more heavily than we had a couple minutes ago. Jake slid his boxers off. He was pressing into my crotch. We both began to breathe even harder.

I slid off my panties. The friction between us was incredible. I felt like we were on fire. Suddenly, Jake began attacking my lips again. Gradually, his hands found my breasts. Lovingly, he began to caress them, tracing the base and the nipple and everything in between. He didn't reduce the passion he was furiously focusing on my lips, either.

I had never felt like this before. I wanted more of everything. I felt like nothing could ever be enough. I wanted to scream, and as Jake's hands softly rubbed my breasts, I moaned into the kiss. He lifted his head, and my legs wrapped themselves around him. I was panting, my legs pulling him closer to me as my mind meandered in some nirvana I needed to explore. I wrapped my arms around Jake's shoulders, pulling his body towards mine. He face ended up against the skin just above my breasts. He began to softly kiss it.

Finally, he looked up, looking at me. Our eyes met and I was lost in the endless depths of hazel I had come to know so well. They asked a last, unspoken question. Somehow, I managed to nod. My legs unwrapped themselves from around Jake. For the second time, I felt Jake slide into me.

I couldn't help it. I screamed. My legs, which didn't seem to take orders from my brain anymore, once again wrapped themselves around Jake. I heard Jake's breath get heavy and ragged, as he pumped inside me.

Several minutes or maybe a lifetime later, we lay next to each other on the bed. I knew my hair was a mess, my make-up was smeared, and my face was red. But, for once, I liked the feeling of being vulnerable. I liked being open for Jake.

I rolled over and snuggled into Jake's side.

"Jake?"

"Mmhmm?"

"How come you're so perfect?"

He rolled over, so our faces were millimeters away, and when he spoke, I could feel his breath on my face. "I'm not perfect. I just keep my promises."

"Promises?"

"Yeah. Remember the first time we ever met? In that cafe?"

"Yeah..."

"I made a promise. That I've done my best to keep."

"You did?"

"Mmhmm. Remember, Ashlee? I promised to protect you."