It Was You (16 page)

Jaron's dad bows his head. "Whatever you need," he responds.

"Then come with me," she orders him with absolutely no sympathy in her voice.

"Can I come too?" I ask. "I want to see him one last time."

She stares at me wide eyed, unsure how to answer at first. After a second she gives a curt nod. "For a moment."

As we make our way down the hall, she goes over a few things with me. "Please remember, he is going to look a bluish color. His body is swollen right now, and he may look a bit unrecognizable. There are wires and tubes attached to him. It isn't going to be easy to see him this way." She stops in front of a curtain near the nurse’s station. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," I answer, looking her straight in the face.

"He is right in here. A nurse will be in there with you. Her name is Jaimie. If you need anything, let her know."

"Thank you," I whisper before walking through the curtain.

He is laid out on the table exactly as she explained but it still takes me aback. This isn't supposed to be Jaron. He shouldn't be here. I sit down on the cold, metal chair laid next to the sterling silver table that holds the one person I love more than life itself, and in this moment I hate everyone and everything for taking the two people I care the most about away from me way too early in life. First my dad, now Jaron.

I close my eyes and try to feel some kind of comfort in his presence but I can't. It's not possible.

"Jaron," I start to whisper, choking on my words instantly. "I hate you," I tell him. I obviously don't, and I can't even fathom why those words managed to slip out of my mouth. Maybe because right now I feel so much wrath. Anger that he caused by dying on me.

"I'm allowed to, you taught me that." I grab his hand, hating how cold it is against my skin, how it's too hard for his fingers to bend with mine, that his skin almost feels fake. I hate so much right now. "You taught me to speak out, to be honest. So for the last time, Jaron, I'm going to tell you exactly how I feel."

Pressing a kiss against his temple, I stay close for only him to hear. I manage to muster up enough strength to whisper to him everything I
need
to say to him before I leave him here to stay. "I hate you, Jaron. I hate you because you were the one who was supposed to hold me tight when I had tears. I hate you because you weren't supposed to cause them, and here they are, running down my face, all because of
you
. I hate you because you were supposed to save me from my demons, take me on a different journey than my past. Not let it repeat itself. I hate you because you were supposed to love me like no one ever has before. And you don't, and you won't... and you can't."

My hand grips harder into his. I want to feel him give me a squeeze. I want him to say it'll all be okay. That this is a nightmare, that I'll wake up, and he'll be there. I'll see his bright astonishing face. I'll hear his encouraging words. He'll hold me tight, tell me he loves me, and we'll live life. Together. Forever.

It doesn't happen though.

It can’t.

"I'm not supposed to hurt, not like this. You taught me that. I hate you for letting me fall in love with you. I hate you for allowing this pain. It's not okay.
I'm
not okay. I hate you because even with everything said and done, Jaron, I can't hate you at all. I love you. I'll always love you. I don't have the strength to love myself most days, so I'll just love you twice as much instead."

Closing my eyes I try desperately to hear something. Maybe somehow he can send me a message. When minutes go by and there isn't a hint of anything from Jaron, I open and look down once more. His eye lids are closed. I can't see the swirls of green and brown one last time. His mouth has a tube pushed down in it and his lips are a dark purple. He looks pained yet... free. Free of everything that was killing him. Free of the suffering he had inside his head, imagines of his mom dying at his own hands. There may not be a heaven or hell, but I can only hope that there is
something.
That he is watching down on me, whispering how much he cares. How much he wants to be here with me.

"I... I love you, Jaron." Sweeping the hair from his forehead, I place a kiss down on him, leaving my lips there for an extra second, then I walk away. I can't look back.

Not every story has to end with a happily ever after. Sometimes they need to simply have an ending that will stay with you forever. A story to guide you, heal you, help you better grow. A world within you, which no one else needs to know about, secrets and possibilities buried deep within, like a hidden gem to call your own. Although my story isn't close to being done, Jaron's ended too quickly.

Our time spent together was short lived. Nothing more than a few chapters out of a book. It was life changing nonetheless. He created new characteristics and feelings inside of me that I never knew could exist.

After his funeral, which was small and sweet- the way I know he would have enjoyed it being- Jamison showed me all the text messages. They weren't easy to read, and not for the sake of the tears either. He told about our adventures, he complained about Jamison being friends with Kyler, he told about his love and adoration for me. He said more to his brother than I even realized.

More than I imagined he would.

The very last message read;
If I had met her any sooner than this, I would do everything in existence to cure myself from this disease. I didn't know love existed like this. When you find someone you love, man, hold on. Don't let her go. Fight for her, every single day. She'll be worth it. Ravyn is worth it. I hate myself for not having the strength to go on much longer. Please, tell her I love her when I go. Keep her happy and safe. Then let her spread her wings and fly. Please.

I asked to have it printed out and he gladly accepted.

The most painful part about his last message was knowing that he knew his time was even more limited than he had let on. I think back to our last day together and wonder if he knew he wasn’t going to wake from that nap.

I’ve beaten myself up time and time again, curious to know if I exhausted him to the point of dying that much sooner. With all the traveling we did, it had to take a lot out of him.

Jamison and Dawn have both assured me that even if that were the truth, Jaron wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. I helped him live before he could die.

That may be so, but guilt still eats at me now and again.

When the funeral had ended, I walked away in endless tears, and before I knew it I was at Dawn's doorstep. She took one glimpse at me then held me close for as long as I needed. I explained everything to her, and I mean everything. Then I proceeded to apologize for being a horrid friend all these years. She listened to everything I said, then hugged me close.

I started staying at her house thereafter, moving everything from my home, the home that mom
still
shared with Bruce. I shouldn't have expected her to change her thoughts or grow courage all because I had, but deep down I had wished she would.

Dawn helped me build up enough strength to press charges against Kyler. Because of who his father is, he didn't get anything more than a slap on the wrist and the minimal amount of community service, but at least it was out there. It took a large weight off my chest.

He tried to contact me once since, apologizing for his behavior, but since his apologizes meant nothing to me a long time ago, I ignored him completely.

In fact, I ended up changing my number, only giving it to those I cared about the most.

I don't ask Dawn how anyone else is doing, only how she is. Once in a while I still talk with Jamison, but those conversations are few and far between. I tell Dawn frequently I miss and love her- as she does to me. We've never been closer than we are now, and we're several states apart.

It’s been three years since Jaron’s passing, and I’m still reminded of him almost every single day. Time has helped heal wounds and strengthen me, but I find myself breaking down now and again.

Climbing from the pool, I walk over to my roommate, Becka. She hands me the clipboard so I can fill out the forms needed from today’s experiment. She, too, is going to be a marine biologist. Although, she is clearly more focused on her boyfriend, Erik.

Throwing back her dark, curled hair, she laughs at something he whispers. His hand runs along her barely covered hips, since she thinks a bikini is acceptable for our biology homework- whereas I’m in a one piece bathing suit as usual.

I hand back the clipboard, then grab for my towel, heading to the locker room. “Hey,” Becka yells out.

Turning, I give her a questioning look.

“We’re heading to Pleasure Pier later. Want to join?”

“Who’s we?”

“Erik, his buddy Max, and myself.”

“No thanks,” I answer.

I hear her grumble about how I never do anything fun and exciting. Which isn’t all that true. She basically parties and goes to the beach, that’s her entertainment. I find other interesting things to do. Usually alone, since Dawn isn’t around.

I’ve been skydiving, deep sea fishing, water rafting, flew in a plane home Christmas break two years ago, took a road trip last summer to Florida, and even visited the Grand Canyon. I’ve faced my fears head on, traveled, and even met a few friends, hoping each time that I’m doing something that will make Jaron smile at me. Especially when I’m smiling, too.

The one thing I haven’t done is moved on. I’m not sure I ever will.

Finishing up in the locker room, Becka walks in, stripping from her bikini before the door is even closed. “Are you sure?” she asks. “I’d love so much if you joined us, just once?” She pouts her lip, begging me like a lost little puppy.

With a sigh, I grab my hairbrush and look in the mirror. I swear I hear his voice telling me to go. After a second, I can’t think of a justifiable reason not to go. "Okay," I answer.

She starts to say something but snaps her mouth closed. "Really? You'll come?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

She jumps up and down, still not dressed, so I avoid looking at her through the mirror. “I’m so excited. You’ll love Max, he is hilarious. I’ve been wanting to introduce the two of you.”

By blurting that out she gives me a perfect reason to not go, but I bite down on my lip, not allowing myself to back out now. I may as well enjoy one night out with a… friend. If you could call her that.

The shorts she puts on should be called jean underwear and the shirt shows off her entire midsection. I actually wear clothes more fitting to my body unlike I used to, but I definitely can’t show of that kind of skin. She looks me over, and I can tell she wants to ask me to change, but she doesn’t. I wouldn’t anyways.

I finish brushing through my long, blonde curls that are now down past my chest, then I hand Becka the brush. She talks and talks while fixing her hair- even though she didn’t even go underwater today. By the time she’s finished twenty minutes have passed. Glancing at her phone she grins excitedly. “Perfect timing! Max is here.”

I avoid curling my lip, as much as I want to.

“Can I add a little eyeliner?” she asks before we leave the locker room.

“What, why?”

“Because you never wear makeup.”

To appease her, I solemnly nod my head and take a seat on the bench. Five minutes later I not only have eyeliner on, but my entire face is done up. Her and Dawn would get along perfectly.

Glancing in the mirror I shake my head at the red lipstick. “This isn’t a date, right?” I have to question.

“Yeah, sure, why not,” she plays it off, repeating my earlier words with humor. Changing the subject, she swiftly adds, “But seriously, holy hell, you look hot!"

That’s probably because I don't look like myself at all. When I don’t reply she looks at me with complete seriousness, something she doesn’t do all too often. “Seriously, Ravyn, you
are
beautiful."

I grin at Becka’s words. I can picture Jaron telling me the exact same thing and just as earnest, too.

"Thank you," I whisper.

We walk out of the locker rooms to meet up with Max and Erik in the parking lot. Max has longer, blonde hair- he looks a lot like a surfer. His eyes are as blue as the ocean. I’d undeniably say he’s attractive, I can give him that, but definitely not my style. Not only for the sake he isn’t Jaron, either.

Becka does the introduction, and when she does, Max is respectful in the way he says hello. He even offers to let me ride with him but I tell him no. Instead I ride with Becka in her bright yellow Jeep, which has no windows or doors, except the windshield of course.

"This must feel a lot nicer to ride in than that dingy old motorcycle you're always on."

Jaron’s dad let me keep his bike even though everything of Jaron’s was supposed to go to him. He let me keep nearly anything I wanted- including some video games, his guitar, and a bunch of his clothes. I even took a few photos he had, keeping my favorite one framed next to my bed. I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Jaron, I didn’t even know what his hand writing looked like until after he was gone. It was bittersweet going through all his belongings. Jamison was there to explain some of it to me, which made it a little easier. I enjoyed hearing about a different side of Jaron.

There wasn't much Jamison kept for himself, mainly a few pictures from when they were younger. I think it was over the fact they really weren’t all that close.

"I couldn't imagine life without that bike," I tell her.

"It still surprises the hell out of me that you know how to drive that thing. Or that you drove it from Nebraska. It's pretty badass though, I'll admit that." She cranks up the radio allowing Sam Hunt's voice to echo through the speakers, making conversation end with that.

I lean back into the seat and allow the sun to shine down on me, warming me on the outside with the words of the radio warming my insides.

We pull into the parking lot across from Pleasure Pier- she stops so fast it causes our heads to whip forward. Maybe I should have rode with Max, I think to myself, but we’re already here. Hopping out, we meet the guys in the front of her Jeep, then walk across the busy road to the pier, which holds rides and a restaurant.

I have never been before but I've heard others talk about it. It's a great day for it- not too hot out, with a nice breeze coming in.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," I answer Max. He pays for my ticket when we get to the booth, which he definitely didn't have to do, even though my waitressing job doesn't leave me with much.

"Thanks," I tell him as we walk through the gate.

“Not a problem,” he answers. He attempts to hold my hand but I pocket it, pretending I didn’t even notice. I don’t want this to be a date.

"Want to ride the Ferris wheel?" he asks after we get off the small roller coaster.

I glance over to the ride that terrifies me. Before I'm able to say anything, someone walks by and says, "Sorry, it's closed today. One of the lines snapped this morning." He turns to face us, smiling as he walks past, and I can't help but zero in on his name tag.
Jaron.

My lips spread out into a large smile. I can't seem to say anything but I want to go up and hug the person that looks nothing like the Jaron I know. Maybe it's coincidence but I don't want to believe that. My insides flutter at the thought of him being here with me today, encouraging me to try new things, hang out with new people, and maybe even move on... just a little bit.

“Well that’s disappointing,” he remarks. He doesn’t even have a clue how blissful I am right now, but I don’t tell him either. “How about the tilt-a-whirl?”

“Sounds fun,” I tell him, this time with a sincere smile on my face.

After we’re done with rides, we catch up with Becka and Erik to get dinner. Max even pays for my meal, which he certainly didn’t have to do. He has been kind to me all day, and it’s been fun getting to know him. I still don’t see him as my type, but I do see him as a friend.

The remainder of the evening goes by smoothly, and I find myself laughing more than once. When Becka and I get back to our room that evening, she throws herself down on her bed. I slide out of the clothes I have on, replacing them with one of Jaron's tee-shirts and a pair of underwear, which happens to be what I wear most nights. Becka glances over at me, watching me but not saying much of anything.

Climbing under my sheets, I look at the picture of Jaron, giving him a smile in return, then slide down until I'm wrapped in the blanket. "What?" I ask when she doesn't stop watching me.

"We’ve been roomies the last two years. You’ve had that picture there but have never said a word about who he is, and you never talk to him on the phone or anything. So… who is he?"

I simply say, “Jaron.”

“And this means…” She sits up, crossing her legs, as if I'm going to tell her a long, interesting story, but I'm not.

I look back at his picture and tell her, "He helped me find myself when I didn't know I was lost."

"That's... it?"

"He saved me, he revealed his secrets, then... he was gone."

"Oh." She shakes her head, climbing from the bed. "If you say so."

Closing my eyes, I picture our last day together shooting the guns, and I can't help but smile. It took a long time to get to this point- of smiling rather than crying. Before I drift off to sleep, I tell her, “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”