Her mother entered the room, wobbling and not-quite-right. She must've been drinking, 13 year old Jadelyn thought with a jolt. Alcohol was for the most part a mystery to her, but she knew enough to see that it made people different. It could turn her mommy into this not-quite-her-mommy. When she sat haphazardly on her daughter's bed and the smell wafted over, Jade knew she had it right. It was a harsh smell, like paint thinner (how could something so unappetizing hold such appeal?).

Jadelyn didn't know what to do, but that was okay. Her mother seemed to be there to talk, rather than for something from her.

"Relationships are hard, sweetheart. Let me tell you this, because it's important. It's true, and you have to know this, 'cause later in life, you gotta know. Can't make the same mistakes I did, 'kay? You're smart, you'll do better." (Was she supposed to say thank you?) "All relationships, especially marriage, are made up of two people. It takes two. But it's never equal, you hear me Jadelyn?" She nodded (what else could she do?). "There's always one person, who—who tries harder, or trusts more, o-or..." Her mom took a gasping breath that had her daughter frantically trying to recall CPR tips until she finished with, "Loves them more." Letting that hang in the air, she turned glassy eyes to the figure under the covers. A shaky smile spread on her face, filled with pride and affection.

"Just remember that sweetie. A-and, never stop trying to be that person. It may not work out, but it damn well won't be your fault." And with a final, "Get some rest Jadey," she tottered back out. Jadelyn sat in shock before curling up and trying to forget the frightening episode so she could sleep.

The next morning there were no pancakes and Daddy was gone...

The memory dissolves as the very real 17 year old Jade lies awake in her boyfriend's bed. It must be late, the RV is completely blanketed in blackness. She should be asleep, had gotten close in fact until those long dead words broke her calm. She doesn't know why she's dwelling on that night lately.

(It's a lie.)

A puff of air tickles her neck, and she turns to the boy (man?) lying beside her. In slumber, Beck appears the handsome beast he is by day, but with a more... carefree air. She wonders if she'll give him worry lines. She wonders if she'll be around to see them.

He's a cuddler by nature, she's found. Whenever she stays the night (always) he ends up curled into her side, sometimes holding her arm as if she's anchoring him (or him her). She suspects the too-small bed was a conscious decision to give the snuggling some pretense. When she's irritable she might kick his legs off hers or swat his arms away, but more often than not she simply gives in. She puts this down to one of the many sacrifices being with him requires, though by now even he's begun to suspect she takes a little enjoyment from their closeness.

Raising her hand, she brushes her fingers through his unreasonably silky hair. Even unconscious he responds to her, his outstretched lips making light contact with her shoulder. It might've made her smile another time, but instead Jade sighs. She allows her touch to move to his face, tenderly tracing back and forth. This simple motion gives her some peace, but still her doubts drone out sleep.

"Be happy," a drowsy mumble comes from around the crook of her neck and her fingers still.

"I thought you were asleep." It's almost an accusation: how could you deceive me into being so mushy and emotive!

"Was," He answers, and she notes that his eyes remain closed, "It's not every night you fondle my face." She resumes said 'fondling' despite his teasing.

"Sorry."

"Seriously though, be happy." His voice is rough with exhaustion but the sincerity is clear. One of his arms clumsily encircles her waist and she lets it.

Deciding to humor him, she asks, "Why should I?" Beck gives this scoff, which had it not been so obviously half-hearted would have been annoying but ends up sounding hilarious.

"Uh, 'cause it's better to be happy than sad?" She lets out an extremely short, breathless chuckle for his trouble. "And you're beautiful when you smile." He adds, as if it were an afterthought and not an enormously overblown compliment.

"Not smiling." She points out resolutely.

"S'ok, I can imagine." And lo and behold, behind his still shut eyelids, what she presumes to be a mental picture of her smiling face appears and the corners of his mouth turn up. Suddenly Jade's overcome with love for this amazing man (boy?) holding her.

She shifts deeper into his embrace, closing her eyes, and lets the past and the future float harmlessly away into the stratosphere.

Guess which half is based on personal experience.

I thought about including this flashback in my other story Woe and Roses, but I guess... I dunno, I just didn't.

Honestly, the idea just popped up again at like midnight and I decided to indulge. I can only hope my life works out like Jade's (an unusual wish to be sure). Oh, and tell me what you thought of the style, with the parenthesis and chizz. I was trying something new so I'd love to hear how it turned out.

Luvs Laury!