The Enemy of Time, page 19
We lost track of time in the swirling haze. My intoxicated brain, mixed with loud music, high adrenaline, warm bodies, and Jamie’s hands running up and down me, quickly made the seconds disappear and the minutes vanish into hours. It truly was a fantastic night, the picture-perfect way to celebrate the end of an era and the beginning of our new lives.
But here's the lesson: nothing good happens after 2:00 a.m.
So, when that clock strikes, go home.
My body started to crash, and my limbs trembled from all the dancing. “Come on, let's go sit down.” I gripped the back of my tangled hair and lifted it slightly to get some air on my skin. I grabbed Jamie's hand and pulled him over to the couches, which were draped with an obscene number of bodies, causing me to wonder about the couch's structural integrity. I found Lucas and Kayla pretty much horizontal on top of each other in the far-right corner of the large sectional.
I smacked Kayla's leg. “Move it, love birds; if I don't sit, my knees are going to snap. Scoot over.” We crashed our bodies onto the pillows, Jamie’s arm draping over my shoulder. “I think I've had my fair share of fun. Can we please go home so I can change into my sweats and let the comforters consume me?”
Lucas leaned forward to look at me. “What happened to being the life of the party?” he teased me, his words slurring as his body lightly swayed.
I crooked my head at him. “Are you drunk?” I accused him, my jaw almost smacking my knees. If there was one thing I could count on in this world, it was that Lucas was the most responsible person to bestow the title of designated driver; he was like the drunk-driving safety net of the friend group.
“Maybe ...” Lucas slumped a little further into the couch cushions.
Jamie slapped my brother's leg. “Dude, you're supposed to DD tonight!”
“It's fine, man. Corbin said he'll drive anyone who needs a lift home.”
Jamie clenched his jaw and planted his palm on his forehead. “But who's going to drive my truck back?”
Lucas's face was blank, as if Jamie's words were taking the long route to Lucas's brain. “Alex and I can swing by and pick up your truck tomorrow.”
I glanced at the almost empty red Solo cup in his hand. “You mean after the headaches wore off?” Lucas's body did not handle alcohol well, and thus, the odds of his doing anything tomorrow were slim to none. “Has anyone seen Corbin?”
Kayla whined at me, placing her hands on my shoulders and shaking them. “Come on now, Alex. Let's stay for another thirty minutes, and then we can go. Please!”
Naturally, I gave in to the madness because even though we were officially out of high school, I was certainly not above good old-fashioned peer pressure. Besides, it was harmless fun. I was with my three best friends in the world, and we were at a party filled with everyone we've known since we were in kindergarten—what could go wrong?
“Look what we have here,” a familiar deep voice said from the crowd.
Aiden and Dallas Donahue moved with a particular purpose. Their footsteps boomed in the room as they circled the couch, positioning themselves in front of us. Their presence loomed large, casting a shadow that seemed to engulf the entire space.
Dallas spoke first. “The snitch,” he spat at Jamie.
After everything that happened with Jamie's mom and their dad, Jamie didn't go near the Donahue brothers and had skillfully avoided them until about a week before graduation. Jack was up for his parole meeting, and Jamie's lawyer advised him to make a statement about Jack and his business dealings. To keep Jack in jail, Jamie had to snitch on everything he knew about the Donahue family. After that day, Aiden and Dallas circled Jamie like hyenas, ready to feast on their prey.
Jamie launched from the couch and dashed to the fireplace where they stood, narrowing his eyes at the two of them. “Come on, guys, let's not do this here.”
Dallas got close to Jamie's face. “You know the rule, Jamie. Snitches get stitches.”
My heart raced and pounded against my ribs as I watched Jamie raise his hands, palms out, trying to offer a peace treaty. “Let's not be like our parents, Dallas. I don't owe you anything, and you don't owe your dad either. Let's just all move on.”
Aiden stepped forward, the Donahues effectively blocked Jamie in, using their bodies as a wall. “Your family takes orders from us, not the other way around.”
Jamie’s hand clenched into a fist, so without thinking, I immediately shot up from my seat and grabbed his arm, pulling him. “Just walk away,” I begged. “They're not worth it, and you know it.”
Jamie loosened his fist.
“Yeah, be a good little boy and listen to your bitch,” Dallas hissed at Jamie.
And just like that, our happily ever after was erased. Life is comprised of a series of decisions, some we make, and some people make for us, but how we react to those decisions determines how our story will end. Jamie responded by throwing a right hook.
Aiden quickly defended his brother, delivering a jab to Jamie's chin. Lucas leaped from the couch and shoved Aiden, sending him flying across the room. Dallas retaliated with a hit to Lucas's jaw, and Jamie protected Lucas by grabbing a picture frame off the fireplace and smashing it across Dallas’s head. Dallas, a thick trail of blood running from his ear, shook his head back and forth multiple times, trying to steady himself, but suddenly, his body hunched over, and he fell onto the floor, passing out. To protect his brother, Aiden lunged back at Jamie, but this time, I could see a small silver object in his hand.
I always said I would walk through hell for Jamie, but it only became true when I placed my body in front of his like a shield.
The knife tore through my skin and ripped a hole in my stomach. Warm blood began to ooze around the metal. I watched Aiden’s eyes widen when he realized what he’d done, and I watched as he bolted out of the house, leaving his brother passed out and bleeding on the floor.
Everything slowed down significantly at that point, and the sound became muffled, as if I were watching a movie underwater. I think I heard Kayla screaming in the back and Lucas dialing 911. I remember my body slouching to the floor and Jamie's arms wrapping firmly around me as he pressed his hands to the surface where the knife still stuck out in my upper stomach. Just before breath abandoned me, I heard the faint sobs of Jamie begging me to stay awake. Then there was nothing. It was like falling asleep after too much cough syrup, groggy and slow, but then all at once. Quiet darkness took over and dragged me into its somber night.
If it's after 2:00 a.m.,
Just go home.
Chapter twenty-two
We yell when we care
We care when we shouldn't
We stay when we should leave
And we leave when we should stay
May 31, 2017:
After four days of unconsciousness, I woke up to discover that I had suffered severe internal bleeding and punctured my spleen like a pincushion. At least, that's how the nurse described it when she was changing my IV. I felt confused and disoriented for a couple of days.
It took a week before anyone explained to me why Jamie hadn't visited. Lying in the room next to mine was an unconscious Dallas. Jamie had hit him over the head with a picture frame, which caused his brain to bleed. Even though Dallas instigated the fight, he wasn't the one who threw the first punch. So, while I was in the surgical room, fighting for my life, Jamie was behind bars, wondering if he was going to have one.
It took Jamie's dad twelve days to come up with the money for his bail. During those days, Jamie woke up every morning with the fear that he would spend the rest of his life trapped in a windowless room like a caged animal. Even after Jamie was released, he didn't visit me. I understood his absence at first, but my concern for him turned into pure rage as the second week passed.
On the day I was discharged from the hospital, Dallas emerged from his coma. If I believed in miracles, I would consider this one a miracle. Had Dallas not recovered, Jamie would have faced manslaughter charges; instead, his sentence was reduced to assault. While this was positive news, it still meant Jamie would spend six months in jail and would carry a criminal record.
The sentence was bullshit, and everyone knew it. Perhaps Jamie would have received a fair trial if we hadn’t lived in a small town where everyone knew each other and if the judge hadn’t already decided Jamie's fate before the case reached the court. Perhaps the judge would have considered Jamie an eighteen-year-old who had graduated high school, an eighteen-year-old about to start college, a young boy with a bright future ahead of him—one that was now stripped away.
May 31, 2017, was my first day back home, and my mother was extremely overprotective. She wouldn't let me do anything, not even tie my shoes. After several hours of her constantly watching over me, I was finally able to persuade her to let me go upstairs and sleep by myself.
Was I tired?
Absolutely not.
Was I desperate for some alone time without being asked if I was okay every twelve seconds?
Yes.
I crawled under my comforter and closed my eyes, winching slightly as one of my stitches pulled at the bandage on my stomach. As I was settling in, I heard the unmistakable rumble of Jamie's truck pulling into the driveway. I got up as quickly as someone who had just undergone surgery could and hobbled down the stairs, my mom calling out to me to be careful as I stepped outside.
Something was wrong. Jamie stood there, looking down at the ground, his hands tucked slightly into his jeans’ pockets. He was chewing on his lip, a habit he only did when he was nervous or agitated. I ran up to him, unsure if I was excited to finally see his face after all these weeks or furious at him for not coming by sooner. Any argument I had with myself quickly melted away when I tried to grab his hand, and he pulled away, refusing to meet my eyes.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spoke. “Are you okay? Lucas …” he stammered. “Lucas said you were okay, and the doctors fixed everything.”
He still wouldn't look me in the eyes as he spoke. I wish I had told him I was alright and everything was fine. I wish I had given him the support he so desperately needed at that moment, but I was so caught up in rage that I couldn't see past my feelings of hurt and betrayal.
“You know you wouldn't have had to ask Lucas how I was doing if you had just come to the hospital,” I shot back at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I flinched when my arm brushed the bandages.
Jamie's hand grabbed my arm, and his eyes went as wide as if I had screamed in pain. “Does it hurt?” His face was contorted with fear and concern.
I narrowed my eyes. “I was stabbed in the stomach. It doesn't feel like rose petals and cotton candy.”
It was as if my words had teeth and bit him. His hand slowly descended to his side, and he took a step back, leaning against the solid frame of his truck. “I think we need to talk.”
“Really? What about?” My tongue was dry and sliced like everything else I had said. God, why didn't I just shut up?
“We can't do this anymore.”
“Do what?” His words baffled my mind, but then it clicked. He was talking about us.
My breath caught in my throat, and my knees started to shake. I felt like the entire world around me was crumbling down and burying me alive. Sure, I was furious at Jamie, but I never envisioned him wanting to break up. I assumed we'd fight, pout, and then make up, like we always did.
“What?” The word didn't sound like my voice. It was high-pitched and raspy as if those four letters got stuck on my vocal cords, trying to escape my lips. “What are you talking about?”
“We can't keep doing this.
“Doing what? Being together? This is stupid, Jamie. We have a plan. We’re moving to Boston in August. We’re going to live together, and we're going to go to college. That's the plan!”
“Plans change.”
“No!” I cried back.
Jamie moved from his truck and inched closer to me, putting both his arms on my shoulders, trying to steady me as my cries came in chest-heaving sobs. “You're leaving for college, and I'm going to be stuck here.” I tried to argue back, but he cut me off with his thumb, wiping a tear from my lashes. “I’m going to jail, Alex. They're not going to let me into college.”
“Then we'll do the long-distance thing until you're out, and we can save up enough money to live together. You can get a job in Boston. We'll make it work. We always make it work—”
“Not this time.” His eyes began to well up, and his words became rough and enforced. “I can't keep holding you back. I won't.”
“Jamie, please don't,” I begged through flowing tears. “Why won't you at least try?”
He took a long look at me, his eyes skimming my face as if he were memorizing every feature of me. I could see the pain and regret in his eyes, and I knew this was hurting him just as much as it was killing me. There was a fleeting second where I thought he might change his mind when his face softened, and his touch grabbed me a little closer, but then, as if physically restraining himself, he lightly pushed my shoulders back and released me. “Call me when you get to Boston.” His voice was barely audible as he strained to speak.
I could feel my heart breaking in my chest—no, not breaking, shattering. You can mend a break with time, but at that moment, I knew I was destroyed: my heart was crushed and forever turned to sand.
With those last words, he turned away, leaving me standing alone. I should have chased down his truck, pounded on the hood, jumped into the bed, and ridden to his house. I should have done anything to make him stay, but I couldn't move; my legs felt heavier than cement.
The saddest part of growing up was learning I had to let go of things I wanted to hold on to forever. I just never thought one of those things would be Jamie.
June 7, 2017
A week later, I hadn’t heard anything from Jamie. I had called him a dozen times, but he never answered. Maybe it would have been better if I had left for Boston without seeing him, started my summer job, and allowed us time to discover who we were apart and possibly find our way back to each other. But I didn't. I couldn't, so I went to his place.
The trailer park looked nicer than usual. Jamie's neighbor had planted a bunch of flowers to make the place feel a little happier for the summer. Those flowers filled me with a false sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could break through to Jamie, and we would ride into some imaginary sunset together. I wanted him to know that no matter what he did, he could never hold me back. Without him, I would always feel frozen in time—an incomplete puzzle, half a soul, never able to become whole.
I knocked on the silver door of Jamie's trailer, but there was no response. I waited for a while, hoping he was sleeping, but still, there was no answer. Knowing that his bedroom was at the back of the trailer, I walked around and looked up at the small window that overlooked his bed. Unfortunately, it was too high for me to see inside, so I looked around and found some old wooden boxes lying in the yard. I decided to stack them up to create a makeshift stool to reach the window. As I climbed the boxes, I hoped they were sturdier than they looked. The boxes were old and rickety, and I was pretty sure I was going to get a concussion and probably rip my stitches open, but it seemed like a small price to pay.
Once I reached the top of the boxes, I peered through the dusty and cloudy window. The room was quite dark, with only the outside sunlight illuminating it. Despite this, I noticed some movement in Jamie's bed and tried to get a better look by squinting my eyes. My heart sank as I realized that Jamie wasn't lying there, but instead, I saw long limbs peeking through his bed sheets. Before I could take a breath, the girl rolled over. I gasped so hard that my body physically rocked backward.
Oh shit.
I knew it was coming before it happened. My body arched backward, and the boxes collapsed beneath me, sending me hurling toward the ground. I slammed into the dead grass, a jolt of pain ripping through me. My stomach recoiled like it had been punched from the inside, and my stitches stretched to their limit as a rock jabbed into my back.
“Who's out here?” Jamie's dad yelled as he swung open the trailer door and rushed out. He came blasting around with a bat in his hand, ready to pummel anybody who was breaking into his home. Then he saw my motionless body lying on the ground. “Alex …?”
“Yep, it's just me.” I groaned, not wanting to get up, partly because it felt like my entire body was broken and partly because I was humiliated. I glanced down to see a small bit of blood seeping through my shirt.
He rushed over to me and swiftly helped me onto my feet as gently as possible until my body was back on my two feet. I have to admit I kind of wish I were still lying on the ground. My head was pounding, and my ears were ringing. My knees felt like something had grabbed them and twisted them around a hundred eighty degrees, and my back was twitching like it was hooked up to an electric chair.
“Why are you trying to break into Jamie’s room?” His tone was a mix of concern and frustration.
“You didn't answer your door,” I said, trying to come up with a defense.
Jamie’s dad looked at me like I had just reinvented stupidity. “So instead of calling, you tried to shimmy through a window half your size.”
My defense was getting weaker by the second. “Technically, I wasn't trying to get through the window; I was just trying to look through the window …”
I don't think I've ever seen Jamie's dad dumbfounded. I mean, truly at a loss for words. “My bad, that makes complete sense.” He was mocking me, genuinely mocking me. This was the lowest point of my life.
