Jesse

22: The gift

22: The gift

            Days passed. September faded into October.

            I kept quiet. I had also kept Ian's necklace, until I knew the time was right.

            Every day.

            Every hour.

            Every minute.

            Every second.

            The guilt was killing me. Burning me alive. The fire had spread everywhere, consuming me. I had to tell Ian. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Something had to give or it would be me. I was about to crack.

            I couldn't look into the mirror without seeing what I had almost done. But couldn't do. I couldn't look at that window. That damn window that was there in my room, always. Mocking me. Laughing at me. What it showed beyond its simple glass. Ian. I couldn't stop thinking about. I couldn't look into Ian's eyes, and not remember. I had passed off the feelings as being tired when Ian asked me a couple of times while going to school the first day after, and once when we were walking out of first period. He knew something was wrong, and I knew he wasn’t entirely convinced, but he remained quiet. Probably figured I would talk about it when I was ready. When would be the case. And that time was nearing quickly.

            Now enough time had gone. It was Sunday night. I had managed to get away from my house, after a mild argument with Harold. He just sulked, and cussed at me. I left in fumes as usual. This time though I didn't have to explain to Ian what was wrong; he easily guessed, and I nodded.

            My insides were in roiling knots, a constant lump in my throat. Outside his window, night had fallen. It was late. His parents were asleep. We were lying on his bed. Just in our underwear. My eyes were wide, staring through the window to the night sky. Dark and clear. The moonlight flooded through, and I could see the dust float, drift silently in the stirring air. I could feel Ian beside me, the heat of his chest, of his lulling breath. I let my heavy eyes close. And I felt his lips pour into mine, his arms wrapping around me, lifting me up. I tried to kiss him back. I tried more than anything, but my heart was rupturing from within. The rope that held everything together was snapping. I grimaced, and withdrew, turning away, looking through his window again. Thinking. So much thinking.

            "Jesse?" Ian asked, worried. "What's wrong?"

            "I—I," I began mumbling. My eyes fell onto him, and my face broke. "Ian, there's something…I got to tell you…We got to talk about it…"

            "Well, what is it?" Ian said, even more concerned now.

            I felt my chest shudder, panging, as I held it in. My lips pursed. "You go to promise me you won't be mad…"

            "Huh?"

            "Just promise me, you won't get mad when I tell you…Okay? Please?"

            "Alright, I promise," he said, kissing me on the forehead, and then just lying there with his arm propping up his head, staring at me. "What is it?"

            "It's well…you know Joann," I started, but my voice failed, and sighed.

            "Yeah, what about her?"

            "It's hard to—to say," I said, my brow furrowing. "But—Okay, I tried to have sex with her."

            "What!?" Ian hissed, his voice enraged. I knew he would act this way. God, why had I been so stupid. "You did what Jesse?—"