Chapter Three

After that day, there's a weird tension in the group that you pick up on. Whatever the big secret was, it was something that didn't need to be revealed. You are about the only person who can talk to everyone else, because they know you didn't have anything to do with it.

Of course, this doesn't help your dilemma. You still look at Eric more than anyone else, and wish you had the courage to tell him how you feel, but your fear of getting shot down holds you back.

One day, you're leaving for work late, and hurrying. You rush past a couple and are a distance away from them before you realize that they were kissing, and that one of the men was Eric. Once your head processes this, your heart sinks to your feet. All you can think is that you've waited too late.

For all of your newfound closeness with Eric, he never mentions the mystery man, and you never ask.

As you're going through the days, a thought occurs to you. Your presence is not necessary anymore. Your friends have lives of their own, and "Let's Baby-sit Jack" isn't something that they need to do.

The phone rings, startling you. "Hello?" you say shakily.

"Jack, hi, it's your mother."

You look over at a picture of her. "Um, hi." Unsure of how to proceed, you add, "How've you been?"

"Fine. Look, Artie and I were thinking that we were a little harsh. Could we try again? You can come home, and we could get to know each other."

You think about this offer. Then you say, "Okay. When can you come get me?"

Your mother laughs aloud. "Whenever you want us to, honey! Just tell me when, and I'll come pick you up."

"Tomorrow?" you suggest.

"That's fine," she replies quickly. "Thank you, Jack."

Thank you. 'Bye." You hang up the phone and wander through the apartment, picking up stuff that belongs to you. You go into the bedroom and pull out your box one last time. The picture you always look at is on the top, and you trace Eric's happy face before you place it back in the box and start packing.

Shawn comes in as you're taking some posters off the wall. "Redecorating?" he asks, head cocked.

You shake your head. "Packing. My mom called, and her and Artie want me home."

"And you said yes? When they asked you before, you told them no."

So many things are different now, you want to say but don't. "It think it's just time for a change."

Shawn starts to say something, stops, and walks out of the room. In a few minutes, he comes back in. "Um, you're not leaving because of me, are you," he says quietly.

"What? No! It's just that all of you guys are busy, you have your own lives and all. And... well, it's just time," you finish lamely, not wanting to burden Shawn with your troubles.

Shawn nods, still not convinced. "Are you going to tell anyone that you're leaving?"

"Sure, I guess," you reply absentmindedly. Shawn leaves and you turn your attention back to your work.

You forget to tell anyone else about your plans, and it doesn't occur to you until you're in your old room at home. You're finished unpacking when your mother pokes her head in your room.

"Whenever you're ready, we're going out to dinner, okay?"

You shrug. "Fine with me."

Your parents fail to mention that you are not eating alone. There are two other families, and apparently their kids and you grew up together. That, of course, doesn't help you, as you look at each other silently.

Finally, one of the girls, Tania, asks, "I heard you work in a bookstore?"

Grateful for the question, you start a conversation about your job and books in general. You are almost sorry to see her go when you leave.

"So, you and Tania were hitting it off," Artie says on the way home.

"Yes," you say cautiously.

"You should give her a call sometime," he adds casually.

At first, your blood runs cold, but then you are burning hot. Your parents think you don't know about you and Eric, and are thinking that you can just be straight, never knowing about your past. Even thinking about never being with Eric again makes you shiver.

"Jack?" Your mother says softly.

"Sorry. Um, sure," you reply hastily. Your parents seem satisfied about this, and you turn your attention back out the window.

The next day, Eric comes to your house, apparently fresh from class. "Why did you leave?" he demands as soon as you let him into the door.

You stammer through your excuses about needing a change. Eric shakes his head impatiently.

"I know you too well to let you get by with that excuse. Are you mad at me?"

"Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not mad at anyone."

"You left for a reason, didn't you?"

All of the reasons you have float into your head, but you don't say anything for the same reason you didn't tell Shawn.

Eric sighs and prepares to leave. "Well, if you ever feel like talking, give me a call."

You nod and walk him to the door. As you stand in the doorway awkwardly, you blurt out, "I saw you that day."

"What day?" Eric's face is honestly confused.

"That day in the courtyard. With that guy."

Eric's face goes from the confusion to totally closed. "Oh," he says softly. He turns around swiftly and walks away. You stand there, stock still, and wonder what just happened here.

Afterwards, there's silence on Eric's side, and you're still wondering why that statement would cause such a reaction. You puzzle it out for two days, and then call Shawn.

"What did you do?" he asks as soon as you greet him.

"I'm not sure," you answer honestly.

Shawn sighs. "He's moping around the house like someone kicked his puppy. Want to tell me what happened?"

You do, starting with your reading the journal and ending with Eric's leaving your house. "And I don't understand how me saying that would have caused the reaction it did."

"Look, I'm not sure either. You said you were reading in your journal. I don't know what's in there, but I can tell you what I know."

Shawn goes on to tell you that when you arrived at school, you didn't tell anyone about your past. In fact, you dated women exclusively and voraciously, including Rachel. "When Eric came out to us, you didn't say anything, but I think you gave him the impression that you weren't too accepting. It wasn't until you two were going out that I found out why."

"Because of what happened the year before," you muse.

"And I think Eric is flashing back to that," Shawn concludes.

"So what do I do?"

"Give him a call, for starters. Let him know how you feel." Shawn stops and then sighs. "Look, I gotta go. You got me sounding all touchy-feely."

You laugh and hang up the phone.

A day later, you make good on your promise. You dial the apartment and Eric answers. "Please don't hang up," you say quickly.

"Jack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry for the other day." You figure if you get the apology out of the way, then maybe Eric will listen to what you have to say next.

"I'm sorry I overreacted," he replies softly, totally derailing your speech.

"Um, okay. Can we be friends again now?" You ask, while you're picking at a worn spot on your jeans. It's just as well that Eric can't see your face, because you're biting your lip in anticipation of his answer.

"Of course." He sounds surprised. "We didn't stop being friends, Jack."

"It felt that way."

"It felt that way when you left and wouldn't tell anyone why!"

"I felt like I was being a burden, okay? Like everyone had to baby-sit me, especially you." You're breathing hard by the time you end, feeling like a weight is on your chest.

"Why do you feel that way? You worked, you contributed like the rest of us." Eric sounds really confused, and you're frustrated that you're not expressing yourself better.

"You couldn't..." Love me, is what you want to say, but you know that'll just sound wrong. So you end up with, "I just felt that way."

"I still don't understand why!" Eric exclaims, and you hear the obvious frustration building up in him.

For the second time this week, your mouth moves before your brain. "Why don't you want me aymore?"

For about a minute, there's complete silence. You almost think Eric has hung up when you hear him say, "What?"

"I read all of the journal," you confess miserably. "I saw where we went out."

"Why didn't you tell me that you had read the journal?" he asks.

"Why didn't you tell me that we went out?" you shoot back. If nothing else, you're getting answers out of this today.

"I didn't want you to feel, I don't know, pressured," he answers seriously. "If we go out again, I want it to be because we want to, not because you feel you have to."

"I want to," you blurt out. "But I thought you didn't want to." Then something else occurs to you. "What about that guy? The one I saw."

"He actually isn't in the picture. He used to be, a long time ago. But not now. Now, back to the whole you want to go out with me thing. When did this happen?"

You squirm before realizing that you're on the phone. "A while ago. I just thought, I don't know. Is it yes or no?"

"Shall I circle the box?" Eric asks. You don't get the reference, so you let it pass by and finally he says, "I think this is something we need to discuss face to face."

After work the next day, Shawn comes and gets you in an unfamiliar car. You hesitate before you get in. "Have I ridden in here before?" you ask Shawn, just to be safe.

"Nope. It just looks bad on the outside, though." He pats the dash lovingly. "Still gets around."

You drive to campus, listening to the radio. Shawn lets you out at the apartment. "Angela's dragging me to this poetry thing," he grumbles, but from the look of eagerness on his face, she didn't have to drag too hard.

"Have a good time. Thanks for the ride!" You get out of the car and walk slowly to the apartment.

Eric answers the door when you knock. You sit down at his offer, and then proceed to stare at each other.

"About what we were saying-" you start.

"I was thinking about what we said-" Eric begins at the same time.

Instead of breaking the tension, it heightens until you finally say, "I really want to," smiling.

You guess you sound sincere because Eric's whole demeanor lightens.

"You're serious?" he exclaims.

You nod, smiling harder. "Unless you don't want to."

"Oh, you, come here."

The kiss you experience is your first as far as your concerned. You feel as if you might die from lack of air, but you're too busy thinking that this would be a great way to go.

Eric must be thinking the same thing you are, because he breaks the kiss and takes great gulps of air. "Oh man," he gasps, "You haven't lost that skill."

"Good to know," you say, and then you take his hand in yours. You're amazed at how right it feels. "Can we tell everyone now?"

"What about your parents?" Eric asks.

"Seeing as how they're still not accepting who I am, I figured that I'd be more welcome here."

"So, you're coming back?" Eric grins. "Cool, a boyfriend and live in lover, all in one day."

So, you repack at your parents, thank them for at least trying (but you don't use those words) and come back to the apartment. Eric and you are still going slow, but it's okay with you that he doesn't want to rush- you don't either.

One day, you wake up and realize something. It's been almost a year since the accident. The box that still resides under your bed is as much of your past that you'll ever have. For some reason(probably all the reading you do) you thought that one day, you'd remember everything, the good and bad. After the doctors' repeated tests, all they can tell you is everything is working normally, except your memory.

For some reason, though, this doesn't strike you as bad. You look around at your friends, at Shawn, and at Eric, and think that this is all that you need to remember- love of friends and family.

END