Memory Lane

Chapter Fourteen

"Don't ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up." -Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Fourteen

I may as well have been punched in the gut right then and there. His words hang in the air between us as I stare at him, slowly accepting what he said as much as my mind is fighting against it. Fear begins bubbling deep in my stomach, morphing into anxiety as it rises to my chest, and finally begins to graduate to anger as it bursts out of me. My fingers clench into my palms, nearly breaking the soft skin.

Jesse doesn't move. Honestly, I think we've both held our breath. I finally find my voice, swallowed moments ago by shock.

"How?"

I don't need to clarify. Somehow, Jesse figured out why I moved here. Maybe it's been obvious this whole time. But he knows that my parents are gone.

Jesse doesn't look away from me, unfazed by the daggers I'm throwing into every inch of his body with my glare aside from the softening of his face.

"Last weekend in my driveway. For whatever reason, we both decided to open up. And I listened to the way you talked about loss."

I hold onto my lie for as long as I can. "I told you. I read some poetry and-"

"You kept saying 'we,'" he says, catching me in the lie with the shake of his head.

My shoulders tense. "What?"

"When we experience loss, we lose a part of ourselves, we need healing. I knew then that you had lost someone, too," his eyes soften once again, "Figuring out who wasn't that hard."

My heart takes another bullet of anger and shock through it, making my whole body flinch into stiffness.

It only took me three weeks to slip up. And to him of all people. I curse myself over and over again in my head. My anger persists, moving towards my own stupid brain, but I reroute it as I stare into Jesse's sympathetic expression.

I don't need his sympathy. This was meant to be kept a secret. I know what happens when people find out you've lost someone... you can no longer just be you. That's what makes healing so hard; when the people around you refuse to move on, how can they expect you to?

I finally break away from his gaze, choosing instead to stare at the floor. "You had no right to bring me here."

He furrows his brow, "I was trying to help you."

"Help me?" My eyes snap up. "You don't even know me!"

"Clearly I know you better than you thought."

"Oh, that's right," I spit sarcastically. "My 'thing'. I like poetry. You like history and putting your nose in other people's business!"

"Me?" Jesse scoffs as he steps closer to me. "You're the one who randomly showed up on my driveway to pick up broken glass."

"Yeah, because that's the same as you dragging me to a support group to reveal that you know my parents are dead!"

Jesse shows no reaction aside from the subtle flinch of his body, but he doesn't back off. "How would you have suggested I bring it up?"

My lip curls in anger. "You shouldn't have brought it up at all because you shouldn't know in the first place!"

Before he can find another excuse to argue with me, I spin on my heel and go back down the hallway. Now the scent of the crayons and old food just mixes in with my sudden headache and jumbled thoughts, making this hallway feel even smaller and more insufferable. I break into a small jog, rushing down the steps and bursting through the front doors into the chill, fall night air.