Status: Completed
Psyche
6
Jamie calls Alexandria over the next day.
It doesn’t take her long and she about tackles him when he answers the door. Her hug squeezes his ribs too tightly, but he holds onto her and tries not to cry. “I’ve missed you so much,” she sobs into his hair. “So, so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Jamie says, his heart twisting. He doesn’t want to cry but a few tears leak out regardless.
They don’t do much except lounge around and talk. Mostly he tells her things about Solstice, and after awhile they decide to walk around the neighborhood. It’s when Alexandria brings up school that a particular person pops into Jamie’s mind.
“Has Jean asked about me?” He hates the question. It makes him sound like those lovesick people in the movies. But at the same time it’s exactly how he feels, and there’s a sickly desperation in him to know if Jean even cares about him anymore.
Alexandria kicks at a pebble as she coolly replies, “You know what would be a great idea? If you go see him. Talk to him. I can’t force you to, but . . . you should.”
He frowns insincerely at her and she laughs. “Or if he knew you were home, he’d come see you. I could tell him if you want,” she offers.
It only takes a second for him to make up his mind.
“No, I can do it.”
******
It’s midnight when he finally decides to call because he got scared at the other times and kept pushing it back. Jean might be asleep and Jamie should just wait till tomorrow, or next month might be good. If he’s lucky the phone will keep ringing and then go to voice mail ---
“Jamie?” Jean doesn’t sound tired at all. His voice is alert and rushed, like he was waiting for Jamie to call. “You’re home?”
“Yeah. Hey, um . . . how are you?” Jamie begins pacing around his room, meddling with random things, and making odd gestures with his free hand. It shouldn’t feel this awkward.
“I’m fine.” But it does.
Jamie bites his lip and tugs at his shirt, uncomfortably. “I need to talk to you. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s good. I get off work at 4,” Jean answers. He sounds so calm compared to Jamie, and he wonders if maybe if it’s because Jean forcing himself to be. “We can go to my house. I’ll come get you, if you want.”
“Sure.” Jamie stops, thinks about his next choice of words, and says them. “I’m sorry. Good night.” He doesn’t hear what Jean has to say because he hangs up immediately. He falls backwards on his bed and moans at how light-headed he feels, till he realizes it’s because he barely breathed throughout the entire conversation.
It doesn’t take her long and she about tackles him when he answers the door. Her hug squeezes his ribs too tightly, but he holds onto her and tries not to cry. “I’ve missed you so much,” she sobs into his hair. “So, so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” Jamie says, his heart twisting. He doesn’t want to cry but a few tears leak out regardless.
They don’t do much except lounge around and talk. Mostly he tells her things about Solstice, and after awhile they decide to walk around the neighborhood. It’s when Alexandria brings up school that a particular person pops into Jamie’s mind.
“Has Jean asked about me?” He hates the question. It makes him sound like those lovesick people in the movies. But at the same time it’s exactly how he feels, and there’s a sickly desperation in him to know if Jean even cares about him anymore.
Alexandria kicks at a pebble as she coolly replies, “You know what would be a great idea? If you go see him. Talk to him. I can’t force you to, but . . . you should.”
He frowns insincerely at her and she laughs. “Or if he knew you were home, he’d come see you. I could tell him if you want,” she offers.
It only takes a second for him to make up his mind.
“No, I can do it.”
******
It’s midnight when he finally decides to call because he got scared at the other times and kept pushing it back. Jean might be asleep and Jamie should just wait till tomorrow, or next month might be good. If he’s lucky the phone will keep ringing and then go to voice mail ---
“Jamie?” Jean doesn’t sound tired at all. His voice is alert and rushed, like he was waiting for Jamie to call. “You’re home?”
“Yeah. Hey, um . . . how are you?” Jamie begins pacing around his room, meddling with random things, and making odd gestures with his free hand. It shouldn’t feel this awkward.
“I’m fine.” But it does.
Jamie bites his lip and tugs at his shirt, uncomfortably. “I need to talk to you. Are you busy tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow’s good. I get off work at 4,” Jean answers. He sounds so calm compared to Jamie, and he wonders if maybe if it’s because Jean forcing himself to be. “We can go to my house. I’ll come get you, if you want.”
“Sure.” Jamie stops, thinks about his next choice of words, and says them. “I’m sorry. Good night.” He doesn’t hear what Jean has to say because he hangs up immediately. He falls backwards on his bed and moans at how light-headed he feels, till he realizes it’s because he barely breathed throughout the entire conversation.