I understand that. I know he’s using me, but at this point, I’d rather be used by some dumb jock who means almost nothing to me than the man I live with… The man I’m hopelessly in love with, who can never give me back what I’m desperate to give him.
So I rush downstairs and step into my boots, praying James won’t notice as I shrug into my coat and grab my car keys. He’s probably off in some corner of the house, hiding from me anyway.
Whipping open the front door, I step out into the frigid air, trekking down the snowy steps as wind pelts sleet at my face. It’s afternoon, but somehow dark from the weather, the skies gray and rippling with cold, icy condensation. I stomp the walkway as fast as I can while still trying to be careful, not wanting to slip and fall. James put salt down everywhere yesterday to combat the ice forming, but it’s still there.
Jumping into my car quickly, I start the engine and it roars to life. I have an STI, a little beast of a sedan in cobalt blue that James got me last year for my birthday. It’s fully loaded and pretty much the most badass thing ever, though right now I can’t appreciate any of that. I’m too focused on getting the fuck out of here. Escaping the bullshit piling high in my life to the point of suffocation.
My breaths are heavy as I give the car only a moment to warm up before I’m backing out of our driveway.
The second I get onto the main road, I’m nervous. The roads are really bad. My car is all-wheel drive, a necessity living in Maine, but still. I can feel the tires slipping as I pull off, picking up speed quicker than I normally would in these conditions, because I’m so fucking eager to put distance between me and that house.
The radio station is still where I last left it, playing Christmas songs at low volume. That Wham! song they play to death is on, and right now it’s really irking me more than it usually does. The lyrics are crooning about giving your heart to someone special, and I want to retch.
This fucking sucks.
Glancing at the screen, I contemplate switching to one of my playlists through the Bluetooth. I want to rage right now. I want angry music about heartbreak, not this dumbass whining in my ears. But I can’t take my attention away from the roads. My wipers are on mid-to-high speed, and it’s still difficult to see with all the snow and sleet flying at my windshield, practically blinding me.
Driving for only about a mile, my speed picks up, and I’m so distracted by the bleak state of my life, I barely notice my foot pressing further and further down on the gas.
I can’t believe how stupid I am. I can’t even fathom that all of this is happening as a result of me crossing a line in my sleep.
This is what happens when you stifle your subconscious for so long. When you want someone so badly it blurs out everything else, and you end up stumbling over the edge of rational thought and action, into the exact thing you’ve been keeping locked up tight.
My heart worked with my brain and my body, conspiring to fuck me over. And that’s exactly what happened.
I fucked everything up, and I’m sick over it.
What did I really think would happen?? James would hook up with me a few times and realize he loves me back, as more than a guardian? That he would throw caution to the wind and agree to more with me, just because of how badly I want it?
As angry as I am, he’s right. No one could ever understand…
Look at Woody Allen, for fuck’s sake. He married his adopted daughter and has been permanently labeled a creep. And he didn’t even raise her from that young, I don’t think!
Ugh. Fuck this. Fuck love, fuck feelings, fuck the best goddamn sex I’ve ever had or could ever imagine… Fuck everything.
Speeding the street with my head fogged by nonsense, I hit a patch of ice, and my car swerves. The steering wheel vibrates from the traction control, the tires attempting to grip at a surface too slick, and I fishtail.
Not much, but still. It scares the fuck out of me.
And something flashes through my brain.
Something I don’t particularly remember, though I know it happened… just like this.
Two-year-old me in the backseat of my parents’ car, strapped into my car seat and shivering with fear. My parents losing control of their vehicle…
Skidding off the road, directly into a telephone pole.
I’m not sure how it happened. I never needed the grisly details of my parents’ deaths. All I know is that they both died that night.
They died doing the same thing I’m doing right now. And that horrific moment, that flit in the blink of an eye, changed the course of my entire life.
It brought me to where I am right now…
Sliding on ice.
Terror racks my limbs as my car collides with a snowbank. The car comes to a jolting stop, and nothing is damaged. I’m not hurt. I don’t think I was even going that fast.
But I’m fucking shaking. I’m struggling to breathe, tears welling in my eyes as I look around, seeing nothing but white all around me, just barely remembering to shift into park. I’ve never been so afraid in my life.
And I think I’m having a panic attack. Great.
Whipping off my seatbelt, I fight to calm myself down. My heart is racing at a dangerous pace as I curl at the waist, holding my head in my hands and just trying to pull in air, though it’s not enough.
My body is convulsing with tremors, icy cold hands gripping at my throat and my face.
Breathe, Jesse. Just breathe.
You’re fine. You’re alive.
Sobs gasp from my shivering lips, tears flowing down my cheeks. My parents are gone… They fucking died, and I never got to know them. It’s something I’ve carried for sixteen years, and I think I brought that into my relationship with James.
I’ve always been acutely aware of the fact that he isn’t my father. He tried his best, and he did a damn good job giving me everything I could ever need as a child, into a teenager, and now into an adult. He’s been nothing but supportive and loving, no matter what.
It made me fall in love with him when I shouldn’t have. It made me want him for something else… As anything but a father.
But he doesn’t feel the same. He never will, and that’s the most devastating part. Because if I can’t even have him for what he is to me, then what was the point of losing my real parents?
“Why…” I cry harder and harder, banging my forehead on the steering wheel.
Just… why?
Sudden lights in my rear windshield catch my attention. I look up with wet eyes, vision blurred, at a large SUV that’s stopped right behind me. A Good Samaritan, likely stopping to make sure I’m alright.
I cry even harder.
I’m not alright. Not even close. I’m fucking lost.
I barely process the large form staggering up to my window as I wipe my eyes frantically, trying to look less like a fucking infant crying in my car. But rather than just knocking on it, the person yanks open my door.
It’s James.
Holy fuck, now I’m shaking all over again.
“Jesse, oh my God.” His voice breaks as he reaches inside the car and grasps my face with cold hands, looking me over for any sign of damage. “Are you alright?? Are you hurt?”
My breathing is still too labored to answer him. So I simply nod. And keep nodding while he launches his entire torso into the car and takes me in his arms, hugging me to an almost strangling degree.