About To Be Broken

Jason Reeves is the reason I'm still here.

That might sound a little melodramatic. I don't mean it like he's the reason I'm alive, no. He's the reason I was still at school on a Thursday night at 7:30. I looked around the library/media center, or LMC, as they call it, wondering where he was. My phone buzzed in my pocket, startling me. I pulled it out of my pocket and quickly turned it on silent, noticing the large 'No Texting In The LMC' sign. I then checked the ID. It was a number I didn't recognize, so I opened the text. What I saw made my heart skip a beat.

Hey, Eli. This is Jason, from school? Yeah, sorry I'm late, I got a flat tire. I should be there in about ten minutes, so if you wanted to get started on some other homework, go ahead.

Jason Reeves was texting me, Elijah Winterburry. Me, a lowly freshman. I quickly added his number into my contacts and texted him back.

Alright, that's cool. How'd you get my number?

A few seconds passed before my phone lit up.

Cassidy gave it to me.

My heart sank. Of course, my beautiful, talented, popular sister gave it to him. Of course, he probably liked her, he was the most...gorgeous boy I'd ever met. He was straight, he just broke up with his girlfriend, Faith. He wouldn't like me anyway, he was a senior. I was a freshman. Typical story. To be honest, I didn't even need help in Spanish or biology. I had heard through my friend Caylee, his little sister, that he was tutoring on Thursday nights. In an effort to get close to him, I signed up. Maybe it wasn't that, maybe it was the fact that I needed a friendly face to talk to when freshman year got tough. And it was.

"Hey, Eli," a voice snapped me out of my trance. I looked up to see that angelic face smiling at me.

"Um, hey," I said. I swallowed. My voice sounded so boyish, so juvenile compared to his, with mellow, dark undertones in the smooth syllables.

"So, what am I helping you with?" he said with a smile, sitting down next to me.

"Uh...Spanish. And-and biology," I stuttered. Why did he make me so nervous?

He slid the Spanish book closer to him and opened it. "All right then. So, if you have a verb ending with..."

I spaced out listening to his melodic voice. I studied his profile. Tall, with broad shoulders, brown hair that ghosted across his brow, pale skin. Long fingers. If he had long fingers, I wondered if he had a long--

"Eli?" His voice snapped me back to reality.

"Uh, yeah?" I blushed.

"Can you tell me which tense the verb tuve is in?" he said, raising an eyebrow. He had noticed my daydreaming.

"Um, preterite?" I said. I knew all of this, I was in Honors Spanish II, of course I did.

"Right. You don't really seem like you need that much help with Spanish, actually," he said, glancing at my notebook, which I had open to my homework.

"Yeah...I guess I just needed someone to make sure I was doing it right," I said, coming up with something on the spot.

He nodded, accepting my answer for the moment. "Now, on to biology..."

---

"So, is your sister coming to pick you up?" Jason asked a few weeks later after our weekly study session, helping me put my books in my locker. Since I had finished my homework, it made sense to leave my books at school rather than dragging them home and back.

"She's supposed to, my parents are out of town," I answered. Slowly but surely, I had become slightly more comfortable around Jason. My palms no longer were sweaty in the minutes leading up to our session, my stomach no longer churned with a thousand butterflies when he leaned over the table and I could smell his cologne.

We walked out to the circle where cars would drop off and pick up students during daylight hours, talking about nothing in particular. The homecoming game, which he played in, I played in the marching band at. The dance, which neither of us went to. How Mrs. Chenier, the French teacher, was rumored to be in a relationship with Mr. Henry, my geometry teacher.

Fifteen minutes passed. "She's still not here?" Jason asked, referring to Cassidy.

"Nope," I answered.

"Do you think you should text her?" Jason asked.

I did.

Fifteen more minutes passed.

"No reply," I said, checking again.

"Why don't I give you a ride home?" he said.

My heart started pounding. "O-okay," I said softly. Jason Reeves was going to drive me home. I texted my sister to tell her, still no reply.

We walked over to his black Range Rover, a gift for his seventeenth birthday from his parents, who were loaded. He unlocked the doors, and we climbed inside. He started the car, then just sat there for a minute, not moving.

"Eli?" he said hesitantly.

I looked at him. "Yeah?"

He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't, though, he just shook it off before muttering, "Nothing."

A few minutes into the silent drive, I texted my sister again. Still no reply. "Do you think she's all right?" I asked, sighing.

Jason jumped slightly at my words. They hung in the air for a moment before he responded: "I don't know, Eli. She seemed kinda...off...today at school. Didn't talk to anyone really, and she sat alone at lunch. We tried to sit with her, but she just glared at us, so we kept walking. And you know girls, always getting emotional about one thing or another. She's probably just sitting in her room, crying. I mean, didn't her boyfriend break up with her last week? I know that all Faith did when I broke up with her was sit around moping."

"Yeah," I said, "that could be it." Somehow, something still felt wrong.

Sensing my unease, Jason said, "I'm sure everything's fine." He reached over and grabbed my hand.

I froze. He was holding my hand. He was holding my hand. It seemed like that was the single thought running around my head for minutes on end. It took a minute before I started denying everything to myself, a bad habit I had. It's probably just a friendly gesture. We're friends, right? He's just doing it to calm me down. Doesn't want me having a nervous breakdown in the car. It's just like he's with his little brother.

He kept his hand in mine for the duration of the ten-minute car ride.

When we got to my house, he parked and turned the car off. He made no move to unlock the door so I could get out.

"Eli?" he said, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah?" I said, turning to face him.

"I..." He never finished what he was going to say, only turned and pressed his lips to mine unexpectedly.

It took me a minute to comprehend what was happening, but once I did, I just went with it. I closed my eyes, opened my mouth a little more, and tilted my head the slightest bit. Just as things were starting to heat up, he pulled away.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I was way out of line, Eli, and if you want to switch tutors with someone, you can, and I won't bother you, and..." he rambled for a minute or two more before I interrupted him.

"Jason? I like you. A lot. And I don't think that was a mistake..." I said shyly. He looked back at me, just as shy, before nodding. A slight smile stretched across his features.

"So...should I wait here, just to make sure everything's okay with your sister?" Jason queried.

I nodded, "Thanks."

Jason leaned over one last time and kissed my cheek softly. "Bye," he said with a smile.

I waved as I got out of the car. I walked up to my house and unlocked the door. "Cassidy?" I yelled as I stepped inside. "Cass?"

No answer.

"Well, I guess I'll just try calling her phone, maybe it'll ring." I mumbled to myself. I quickly dialed her number. Faintly, I could hear her Backstreet Boys ringtone wafting through the house. I followed the sound, only pausing to redial when it went to voicemail. I got to her room. The door was closed. I knocked, not wanting to disturb her. No answer. "Cassidy?" I asked. Still no answer. I pushed open the door; it was unlocked. "Cassidy -- oh, my God!" I said, catching sight of her. She was draped over her bed, looking like she was asleep. But she wasn't. Her hand was sticking off the bed at an odd angle. My eyes trailed down her arm to the floor, where there was a small white pill bottle lying on its side. Feeling like I was in a dream -- no, a nightmare -- I walked over to it and picked it up. Empty. I felt her hand -- cold. I checked for a pulse...and found nothing.

"No," I whispered. "NO!" I turned around and punched the wall. Skin split as my knuckles connected with concrete. I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Oh, God, all this and I forgot to lock the door behind me? Whatever was coming, I didn't care what it did to me. It wasn't fair. My sister had the perfect life. Why would she have done this?

"Eli?" I heard Jason's voice coming from just beyond the doorway. "Is everything all -- Oh, God." He sucked in a breath before walking over and crouching down beside me. He sat me up into his lap and held me. He stroked my back, not saying anything, just letting me cry. All night long.

Eventually, my tear ducts had run dry, and I rushed out of the room. He called my parents to inform them, and they boarded the next flight home. They still wouldn't get home until that time the next day, though, so Jason offered to stay with me.

He lay with me in bed that night, holding me. The tears came again, and he let me cry into his chest. "E, I know that if I say everything's going to be all right, you won't believe me," he whispered into the darkness. "So I won't say it. I can only tell you that I'll be here. As long as you need me, I'll be here."

--

It's been a year since that day. We went to visit her grave the other day, just us two. Just the two who found her on that night. He grabbed my hand and led me off the path as we were leaving and led me to a little grassy patch on the bank of the river.

He grabbed my hand, and we sat in silence for a moment.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" he asked, as he did every day.

I only shook my head, and he nodded. He had grown accustomed to my refusing to talk about it, and had grown to expect it whenever someone brought up the subject.

"Can I tell you something?" he said.

"Anything," I replied, squeezing his hand.

"She didn't give me your number. I had asked my sister for it two weeks before you signed up for the study session, and couldn't find a reason to text you, no matter how hard I tried. I finally found that reason when you signed up." He considered this for a moment before adding, "I'm glad you did."

"Me too," I said. "I love you, Jason."

"I love you, too, Eli."