UNEDITED
Gemma Alder is used to being the unlucky one in the Alder family: from a nasty rumour about her back in high school to inexplicable mishaps, she seems to be the comical target for unfortunate situations. But if there's one thing she's good...
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Gemma
Perception is such a strange concept. Back in college, for the four years I attended, I opted for the psychology program because I was always interested in how the mind works, how we can take input from our senses and other surroundings and create an experience that can be entirely different from the person standing next to you. Inside my own head is a vivid depiction of the world around me, privileged with the advantages of sounds, smells, colours, and objects. Yet sometimes I wonder if I'm simply guilty of fabricating my own reality. That maybe, just maybe, my own perception is a false depiction of reality.
Because none of this feels real. At all. Especially as I stare down at the bottle of sunscreen in my hands while sitting on the edge of the bed Jake and I have been sharing for a little over a week now. The bottle in my hands doesn't even contain sunscreen. It contains a waxing cream. It's the kind you apply to the given area, let sit for fifteen minutes or so, and then peel away. It works like a hot damn.
As much as I want to hand this bottle over to Jake and tell him to apply sunscreen before we go hiking with the group, something is holding me back. Okay, not something. It's my goddamn perception. After Jake told me about what his aunt and uncle did...I set the bottle down on the nightstand and get to my feet, pacing back and forth as I wait for Jake to finish in the bathroom. I still can't believe that his aunt and uncle would do something like that to an eighteen-year-old who had just lost his parents. From the calculations I've made over and over again in my head, Jake only had a month-and-a-half – a month-and-a-half – after graduation on his own before Hanna was dropped off at his place. The amount of time he was given surely wasn't enough time for him to come to terms with what had happened, let alone recover from the trauma he experienced being part of the accident, from suffering through survivor's guilt.
And then there's the fact that he was able to get his shit together and make it this far. After all this time, through all the struggles and mistakes, he's managed to open his own successful business, keep Hanna on the right track, and become, as much as I hate to say it, a better person.
What happened to him and what he's overcome doesn't justify what he did to me – nothing does. No matter how difficult his life was, he had no right to drag mine down to the gallows and leave me there to drown. He degraded my reputation and mutilated peoples' perceptions of me. What has changed, however, is my own moral compass. Unlike when I slipped the laxatives into the sauce, I'm second-guessing myself. I'm questioning whether or not he really deserves this. I'm questioning if what I'm doing is only succumbing as far as he did back in high school. And aside from questioning my motives, I'm also questioning that stupid kiss. Did I enjoy it? Did I hate it?
The honest truth is, I can't decide. I was shocked out of all my emotions the moment Jake's lips touched mine. They were soft and warm. I knew them, but they weren't quite the same as I remembered. He was tentative at first, which was odd because the night of the Spring Dance, he was definite and absolute. But when he slid the rough skin of his palm up to my face and cupped it, he awoke something in me. Any resistance, any emotions fell to the back of my mind. The kiss was all-consuming. Vulnerable. Which is exactly why I shoved him away and stormed off to the water to join Cassian and Hanna. I was furious with myself for giving in, for showing him that, despite everything that's happened, I still care about him.
