SEVEN

“Decaf.” She told the man behind the counter and she went to find them a table, not paying for her coffee, the same far and empty glare in her eyes.

“I’ll have an espresso.” He said pulling out his wallet and paying for both of their coffees. He waited a few minutes and brought their coffees to the booth where Kate was in.

“Is this the decaf?” she asked Jason.

“Yeah.” He said.

“Good. I don’t want anymore sleepless nights.”

He sat there, quiet, thinking of what to say.

“You know, ever since he died, whenever I’ve had sleepless nights, it was like I was in a nightmare without even dreaming. The ticking of the clock seemed to be endless.” She looked out the window and at the passing people. “What do you think they’re thinking about now? That lady,” she said, tipping her chin to the woman who was at the corner of the street, holding her cell phone to her ear. “I bet she’s talking to her husband right now. And those kids,” she said, gesturing to the group of kids. “Maybe they’re talking about where they want to hang out next.”

“Not really.” Jason said. “You never really know. That woman might be on the phone with her ex-husband, talking about who will get their kid for the weekend. Those kids might be talking about their dropping grades or something. You’re not the only one in the world with problems, Kate.”

“Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I wasn’t me.” She took a sip. “What would’ve my life been like?”

“You wouldn’t have met Jack then. So you should be thankful you’re just you. Don’t act like everything is on you’re shoulders.”

“But when you lose someone, you kind of feel that way; always wondering where they are or what they’re doing. You’ll always wonder why whenever you wake up in the morning something’s different and everything’s wrong. And when you realize what’s missing, all that weight will still be able to make its way back on your shoulders, no matter how hard you shake it off.”

Jason sat quietly across her, sipping silently at his coffee.

 

Eighteen-year-old Jason Chaffe woke up and saw an unfamiliar ceiling. Where am I? He thought. He sat up and saw the cardboard boxes around the bare room. Everything came rushing back, like a movie playing in fast forward. He pulled himself up and dragged himself off the bed. He ran his hand through his thick brown hair and walked slowly out the door. He paused before closing it, sighing. What is she doing now? He thought. Is she thinking of me? Does she still remember that I left? Does she still recall that I left her half-way across the country?

He went down the stairs and was greeted by his mother.

“Morning.” She said softly.

He ran out the door, not caring even if he was still in his rumpled bed clothes. He passed his mother, but she didn’t say anything, she stood there quietly, not shouting after him, not like how his father had shouted weeks ago. He went past the door, past the gates, past his present life, his first day in his new life. The town was full of buildings, no lakes, no gardens, no boats; but the thought of being out of the house, out of the heavy atmosphere in the small unfamiliar space. He was surrounded by strangers, but he didn’t care. Everything was all right and everything was wrong. He was miles away from her, but being outside, away from the pity and the sadness of his parents, was what comforted him most. And the thought of their childhood promise was the one thing that gave him hope. One day, he promised himself, I’ll go back.

 

He never got to fulfill his promise. As he grew, he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back. But now, what he believed to be fate, has somehow called him back, and he wasn’t going to spoil his chance of finally making up for his broken promise.

“Are you finished?” Kate said.

Jason’s mind came back to the present, back to the coffee shop, back to reality.

“Come on.” He said, pulling her out of the booth and out the coffee shop. He led her to the car.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Drive to the motel. I need to get some things.”

 

“Stay here.” Jason said as Kate parked in front of the motel.

He got out and jogged into the motel. He hurriedly put his key in the lock and briskly went about his rented room. He got one of his empty backpacks and put in some snacks, some bottles of iced tea. He got his guitar from the corner and put his camera around his neck. He locked the door as he went out and jogged back to the car.

“To the lake.” He said.

“The lake?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“L.C.” he smiled.

“Why?”

“Sometimes, a breath of fresh air is all you need to take off all the weight.”

 

Kate drove to the lake and she walked along the shore as Jason went off and rented a boat.

“Kate!” she heard him call.

She turned and saw Jason rowing towards the shore. He stood up and helped her get in the canoe.

She smiled. “Why do you want to come here all of a sudden?”

“Well, during my first few days in New York, I felt the same way you do now. And there I found out being outside is what you really need because when you’re surrounded by happiness you can’t help smiling too. It takes things off your mind, and all you really focus on is what’s all around you.”

She took a deep breath and looked around. Jason was rowing, and they were getting farther from the shore. She could see different families, all growing farther away.

“Here,” Jason said, handing here a bottle of iced tea.

Kate took it and the sunlight caught the smooth skin of the scar on his arms. “Tell me…” she said hesitantly.

“What?”

“You never did tell me where you got that scar on your arm.”

“Oh.” He said stroking it lightly. “This.”

She saw the way his eyes grew sad.

 

“We’re moving, Jason.” Mr. Chaffe told his eighteen-year-old son.

“What?” Jason shouted.

“Jason,” his mother said. “My parents aren’t alive anymore. We’re moving to New York to take care of your father’s parents.”

“When are we leaving?” he asked.

“Two weeks from now.” His father answered.

“All this time and you’ve waited this long to tell me! Today of all days!” he punched the wall, pain shot up his arm.

“Calm down, Jason.” His mother said.

“I don’t have time for this.” He said, grabbing the paper bag and walking briskly out the door.

“Jason!” his father called. “Get back in here!”

No. he thought. No. He broke into a run. His arm accidentally hit the spokes of the gate and he let out a loud cry of pain.

“Jason!” his mother cried.

He looked down and saw that he had a deep gash on his arm. It was bleeding. He ran a few blocks to Kate’s house then took off his polo. With his undershirt on, he used the polo to wipe off the blood from the wound. Then he took out his handkerchief from his pocket and tied it tightly around the two-inch gash and rang the doorbell. The door opened and Kate was there.

“Happy sweet sixteen.” He smiled, handing her the paper bag.

She got the bag. “Thanks!” she beamed, and then saw his bloody shirt and the handkerchief tied around his arm which was seeping with blood. Her eyes widened. “You’re bleeding!”

“Oh, this is nothing.”

“Nothing? It’s bleeding!”

“Yeah. I think I won’t be able to stay the afternoon. I’m sorry. It won’t take a while till my parents arrive.”

Sure enough, his parent’s car arrived seconds later. And his father stormed out of the car.

Kate’s eyes where wide with confusion. “What happened? Jason? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have time to explain.” He said.

“Jason.” His father said gravely.

Kate’s wide eyes shifted to his father.

“I’m sorry, Kate.” Mr. Chaffe said. “I need to take Jason to the hospital.”

Kate nodded silent.

 

“I received five stitches that day.” Jason said, rowing the boat farther away.

“That was my worst birthday ever.” She said.

“Sorry.”

“It was because you weren’t there.” She said, sipping the iced tea. “I didn’t feel… The party sucked.”

“Well,” he said, running his hand though his hair, looking at the ripples in the water. “I’m here now.”

“I really need to start looking for a new job.” She said.

“I want to see where you’re working now. And if you do want a new job. We can look for something tomorrow. You know, after the movie.”

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Smile.” She heard him say.

She turned and gave him a smile. Click.

He took his guitar and started plucking. He played one of the melodies he had composed, animated by the colorful surroundings around him.

“That’s nice.” Kate said. “What song is that?”

“I don’t know, really.” He said. “I made it and I don’t know what to call it.”

“You made it?” she smiled. “Cool.”

He continued playing it and she rested her head on her arm which was on the lip of the canoe. She used her other arm to dip her fingers in the water, making small ripples. Her hair was a soft brown waterfall, falling gently on her back, the wind lightly blowing on it, making the brown waves dance. Jason took her picture. Click. Kate looked up.

“You’re making me self-conscious.” She said.

He rolled his eyes, taking another shot to tease her.

“Hey!” she laughed, covering her face.

“Okay, okay.” He smiled.

 

“Wow.” Kate said. “This was a fun day.”

It was already six o’clock, so they decided to go back to shore and go out to dinner. They entered a small restaurant and sat down on an empty table. They ordered their food and drinks and started talking.

“You know, I didn’t tell you about what happened when I got the scar because I didn’t want you to know that it was on the day of your birthday I had first found out we were moving.”

“I understand. You really got me worried that day.”

“Did you notice how the time seemed to fly after that?”

“We really tried to stay together every second. We even tried sneaking out of the house.”

“Yeah. My mom really got worried and my dad really got pissed.”

“You never really told me what happened the day before you left.”

“I already told you a hundred times. We got drunk so it took me a long time to get us to shore. Your mother saw us and brought us to my house. There was some arguing then your mother brought you home. We didn’t see each other after that.”

“Well, I remember what happened the day after you left. You came by and left a letter for me, I was still upstairs getting over that serious hangover. When the headache went away, I ran downstairs and my mother gave me the letter. When I ran over to your house you were gone.”

 

 

 

                                      . . .

 

“Bye.” Jason said as they parted and went separate ways. Dinner was through and done with. He had insisted that he would pay for it, and after a short argument, he had won in the end.

“Bye.” Kate smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

“Where will we meet for the movie tomorrow?”

“I’ll call Mike and tell you tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He walked back to the direction of the motel. His backpack slung on his shoulder and his guitar held in one of his hands. He went inside his rented room. They had done of lots of things today, found out new things about each other. Jason flopped down on the lumpy bed, but he didn’t feel tired. He had felt guilty about lying to Kate earlier. He couldn’t tell Kate the truth. She still loved Jack, he knew that. Of course she did. He didn’t know when he could tell Kate what had happened the day before he left.

The story he had told Kate wasn’t exactly true. Jason didn’t get drunk that day. It took more than half a bottle of whiskey to make him tipsy. It surprised him that Kate didn’t have any endurance for alcohol. Their childhood promise wasn’t the only reason why eighteen-year-old Jason made his promise on his first day in New York. The day before, the time they were on the canoe, it was Kate who had made the first move of kissing him. He took their picture and they started to tell their feelings for each other. Then she cried, begging him not to go. When she got tired, she fell asleep, and Jason rowed back to the shore. Jason spotted Kate’s other and he called her over. The rest after that was true. But he couldn’t tell Kate what had happened moments before that.