Forelsket.

Jared found it quite comical about how nervous Johns injury had made me, and I found it awful how he didn’t seem worried at all. He had only rolled his eyes when I voiced this the next day and said that it was only teeth, as though John had no use for them in the first place. Now, perhaps I was over-reacting, because I was sure he would get them fixed. Although, as a result of this, John had nearly hidden himself within his house, and a text from him (to Jared) had confirmed that he wasn’t going to be coming out until he had gotten them fixed.

Jared was dropping me off at home (because I figured I should show up, especially after I had caught a small glimpse of Lindsay last night), when he got a text from John. He laughed to himself, typed something in. And turned to me.

“I think you should check your phone.” I scrunched up my face, and opened the door to his car to get out.

“Why?”

“John just asked for your number.” I froze – mid-way out of the car and looked back at Jared, eyes widened.

“What?” I asked hurriedly, “why? I don’t know what to say to him? Jared, what do I say?”

He shrugged with a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. “Guess he’s interested. Do your thang.” I glared at him.

“Jared, I don’t have a thang, I don’t even know how to flirt.” He rolled his eyes.

“Be yourself. Calm down,” he snorted, “besides, its practically a girls thing to know how to flirt. You’re, like, born with it or something.” He waved his hand. And I grunted, nervously, and shakily rose to my feet and got my bag out of the car.

“Thanks, Jare. For everything.”

“Anytime.” He turned serious and looked at me with hard eyes. “Call me if anything, okay? I mean it, Annaliese. If Lindays bothering you, I’m here.”

I smiled, “I know.” I closed his door and waved at him as he backed out of my driveway, and then I (nervously) headed into my house. I couldn’t tell if Lindsay was home, but I knew my mother was, and when I walked in, I had found the television on and my mother asleep on the couch. I let out a small, quiet breath, and headed up to my bedroom. I’ve missed it, really. And, despite the things that had happened in it, I felt at home.

Just as soon as I got settled on my bed (yes, with my phone right next to me), I had gone over my initial reaction when Jared had told me. I do this often – rethink things and play out a different way I wish I could have acted. Not that it changed anything, but, sometimes it helped me. Especially when Grandpa was starting to get really nasty and I found that, if I changed the situation after it was all said and done, I could somehow live with it. The memories were always there, of course.

But, I couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid I had acted, and I couldn’t stop wondering why. I mean, really, what was so spectacular about John? A question, I knew I couldn’t have answered accurately because, I barely knew him. And wouldn’t it be odd if I had – all of a sudden – proposed more time with him? He would know immediately what I was doing, wouldn’t he?

I felt my phone vibrate on my bed, and quickly picked it up. And looked at the screen. No one texted me unless they were Jared, but this was simply a bunch of numbers in place of a name, and even before I read the message, I assumed it was John. I bit on my lip to stop a smile and opened it.

Hey, it’s Johno. Hope you don’t mind I asked Jared for your number.

Actually, in the long run, I think that that one text was it. Who doesn’t feel more comfortable behind a computer, or a phone? You’re all but words on a screen. You don’t need to worry about your face lighting up to an unimaginable shade of red, or how you’re acting. I actually think that, if John had attempted to talk to me in person, we would have never really gotten on.

I was comfortable, sitting there on my bed, and I felt even confident. I quickly typed in, no, it’s fine. What’s up? And let my hand hover over the send button for a moment or two before I decided ‘whatever’ and sent the damn message. My hands were shaking as I held the little device in my hands, and I kept thinking that was a bad message – I’ve left him at a bit of a dead end. There’s only so much you can say to a ‘whats up’, and the inevitable end is ‘cool’.

I was kind of wondering if you’d like to go to Tims party? With me. Its his birthday. And it was supposed to be a surprise. But he hates those.

My heart kind of stopped and my thoughts echoed the with me part. I didn’t know in which way he really meant it – if he was trying to spend time with me or if he just felt bad and figured to include me in their plans. Even if both the thoughts were nice of him, i still felt my hands shake as I thought about how I could possible answer that question. I wanted to say no – and I wanted to find a polite way to do so. Because, I didn’t know if I could really trust him, but the other part of me was sure I could. I couldn’t rationalize either part.

Before I got to even answer, another message from him popped up.

p.s, I won’t drink. Scouts honor.

I smiled to myself, blushing like an idiot just because he was even considering giving up drinking at a party, where everyone would (undoubtedly) be drinking. It was the first time I wanted to get up and do a little dance, I was that happy.

And, I might not have been completely sure, but maybe John could have been a little interested. Even if I wasn’t completely sure, the thought did send my heart soaring. But, still, I moved my hands over my phone to type,

I don’t know.

As I waited for his next text, I got to thinking. About me – about how I hated that no one knew me, and it was scary to me that when I was dead and gone, only one person in the entire world would have really known my story. Mostly, I felt like a big fake, and I didn’t want to be fake with John – especially not him. I wanted him to really know me. to know that, sometimes when I smile, I’m just lying. To know that, I hate being touched because of my Grandfather. To know that I don’t think I care that he’s dying, and that must make me a bad person.

John, however, didn’t know any of that. And I wasn’t sure how he could possibly develop any type of feeling for me, when I was but a mask. So, I figured, if I really wanted to give this a try – him a try, I had to be real with him. That was a terrifying thought – no one other than Jared really knew me. And, although my nerves were at their highest, I told myself if Jared had stayed, I’m sure John would too. Even if he didn’t, I knew that I’d have Jared, no matter what.

I’m getting better, I found, at reassuring myself. I still shook with anxiety, I still didn’t trust everyone – but I was getting there. And maybe no one else could see it, but I could at least feel it. And no one else could fix me – I was on my own with that one. I knew it, and I planned to try my best.

My phone vibrated again, and I quickly brought it up to my face, chewing nervously on my lip as I read the text.

why not? I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear.

Without really thinking, I had quickly typed and sent my next text.

I just don’t know.

I counted the seconds until the next text popped up. One, two, three, four, five…

Annaliese. Come on. I promise…

I stayed silent in my room for a minute. Just thinking – the thought of him had already made me feel lighter. I had to give him a chance. I knew I had to because I decided that I wanted to live, and I didn’t know why, but I felt like he should be a part of that.

I wanted to have a relationship for once. And maybe, I thought, John was my shot at it. I wanted to be normal, I guess. To experience things I’m too scared to do. I wanted it.

So, I had already figured (and, excuse my curse) fuck it. I was going to take chances. Because I needed to. It was that one thought that made everything actually fall together.

Before I got to answer, another text appeared.

Is it the teeth, Liese? Because I’m getting it fixed later today, you know? I laughed a bit, and shook my head.

I typed:

I’m happy for you, John.

And sent it. Then I paused, and I took a deep breath. And I didn’t care how bad I was shaking, or now nervous I was.

Live, my brain screamed.

I typed:

Okay. I’ll go. With you.

And I sent it.



Sometime after mine and Johns conversation had ended I managed to fall asleep. I dreamed of nothing – a black hole, if you will. As a kid, those used to be my absolute favorite – because that meant I was free (for a night) of the nightmares that constantly haunted me. But, I was woken up rather rudely, by Lindsay taking my pillow out from under my head and throwing it onto my face harshly.

“Not that you give a shit, but get up. We’re going to see Grandpa,” she hissed at me. My heart beating hard in my chest, and a lump in my throat, I slowly rose to my feet and put on the sweater that had (somehow) slipped off my frame as I slept. I slowly crept down the stairs, and I knew that, Lindsay was complaining about me, and I heard mom say maybe this is just how shes handling it.

I had to say it, but Lindsay was right – I wasn’t handling a single thing, I was ignoring it. If it seemed like I didn’t care, it was because most of the time, I felt free. I felt at ease without grandpa lurking about, and I didn’t know exactly how to tell Lindsay or mom or dad, for that matter.

It’s a terrifying thing, having a secret this serious and having to tell your family. Because there are a million reactions they can have. And what terrified me most was, this secret would end up screwing everything up – I was so scared they wouldn’t believe me, and mostly Lindsay. They would be so angry if they knew. I couldn’t picture telling them about it. I didn’t want to, and I didn’t know if I could keep my promise to Jared. Grandpa was family to them – they loved him. And as much as he ruined me, he hadn’t ruined them. He had done a lot for this family, believe it or not.

The house we live in was something he had bought for us.

The next step I put weight on creaked and both my mother and Lindsay looked over at me. Lindsay had only rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as she walked away. Mom just smiled at me, and shook her head.

“Ignore her, honey. There’s just so much going on.” The corners of her mouth twitched, and I frowned.

“Yeah.” I guess.

“Come on,” She said, “Dad’s already there. He misses you!”

I forced out a small laugh, “I’ve only been at Jareds for a few days.” Mom just shrugged.

“Daddy’s girl.” I nodded, even though I did’t really agree, and followed her out of the door. I sat in the back, listening to Lindsay huff and puff from the front seat, muttering things which I’m sure were about me. I bit on my lip and tried to stop the tears that were building up in my eyes.