Claire's Song (29 page)

            I sit on my bed and take out my guitar and my notepad and try to write the perfect song for Claire. The words just won’t come and neither will any inspiration. I lie back on the bed and wonder if I should just end it all before the show. Besides, who would really care?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CLAIRE

            Mom was shattered when she found out that Ryder left. I didn't tell my parents the reason why. I made up a lie, which they easily bought. The rest of the break I just sat in my room and listened to depressing music and thought of both of the boys I've loved and lost. Lindy's right. I'm just a magnet for this stuff or I make people hate their lives, which one, I'm not sure.

            It's the day of Ryder's big show and I know that I'll go even though it scares me to death. I've tried contacting him, tried talking to him at school, going to his Dad's apartment, but nothing works. He refuses to see me and that breaks my heart into even more pieces, just when I thought there was nothing left to break.

            I roll over and face the drawer that houses the box with Jamie's letter. That Juliana Theory song is playing and it's like a siren call for the Jamie's words. I sit up and hang my feet over the edge of the bed. I feel nauseated. No. I'm doing this. I place one foot down and then the other. I walk over to the drawer and open it, pull the box out and take a deep breath. The nausea still rolls through me and I even gag once, the stress, the pressure, the thoughts of Jamie swirling through my head, the thoughts of Ryder cutting himself, all the while I'm too stupid to see that anything is really wrong with either of them.

            I steel myself and open the box. Jamie's handwriting meets my eyes, that chicken scratch handwriting that I used to make so much fun of. The sound of my heart can be heard thundering and echoing in my ears, my palms sweaty. I'm about to put the letter back in the box, forgetting it ever existed when Ryder's words come back to me. He's right, as much as I hate to admit it. Everyone's right. I haven't dealt with Jamie's death well. I haven't allowed myself to grieve, but instead I've just been pushing everything down, hiding it by being sad and hating everything, by trying to lose myself in Ryder, in music. Maybe this letter is the start of something. Maybe those words will set me free. With one quick movement my hands are taking the letter from the envelope, carefully unfolding it as if it is the most precious thing in the world, which to me, it is. 

            Tears begin to blur my vision as soon as I see how neatly Jamie wrote this letter to me, as if in all the rush to leave this world, Jamie at least took the time to write his last words carefully. I almost smile at the gesture because it is so classically Jamie. I wipe my eyes and am careful not to allow my tears to splash onto the paper.

            Finally I take another deep breath and begin reading the words that have haunted me for so long.

Claire,

            If you've gotten this letter, it means that I'm gone. I know you well enough to know you are hating me and/or blaming yourself for everything. It was never you, Claire. You were the one bright spot in my life. Since I was in middle school I toyed with the idea of taking my own life, because I just felt this darkness pressing upon my mind and soul. I live with my parents who are horrible people that only care about themselves and money. Nothing makes me feel alive anymore, nothing except you. I don’t want you to think that you weren’t enough to keep me here, because that's not it at all. You are the most wonderful, amazing girl I've ever met. You are perfect in every way down to the your snort when you laugh, to the way you checked me out the day we first met. I wanted to make you mine so many times, to be your boyfriend, but I just couldn't do that to you, knowing in the back of my mind that this was always lurking. Thank you for always being there, always being the other half of my heart.

            I love you, Claire. I love you more than anything else in this world and the only thing I will miss when I'm gone is you, your touch, and the way you look at me. But don’t forget those words I said to you, that you need to find a guy who will treat you like you're everything, a guy who will love you no matter what, a guy who is worthy of you. To be honest I don't know if anyone could ever be worthy of you. You're strong and beautiful and I know you will get through this. Don't be mad at me, don’t be angry at the world, but be strong and remember all the times we had together. Tell your kids about your crazy friend Jamie one day. I want you to live life because you are not weighed down by the darkness as I am. Live it and think of me.

I love you more than you'll ever know,

Jamie

            Tears are falling down my face, but I'm not about to lose control. It's the sweetest letter, the sweetest words that have met my ears and eyes. I gently kiss the paper, the paper that Jamie touched. His words soak into me, into my very soul and I think about one line in particular.
Live it and think of me.
I haven't been living. I've been walking through the past ten months like a zombie and Ryder was the first thing to awaken any semblance of life in me. Now he's gone. I even tried to help him. I told Mrs. Weathersby about the cutting and I think that's another reason he's pissed at me. 

            I know now what I need to do. I haven’t been able to give Ryder everything, my full self. Upon this realization, I grab a few things, throwing them into a tiny bag. Next thing I know, I'm in my car and heading for a place that I haven't been in a very long time.

            I've got my Ipod and speaker in my hands and my backpack hoisted over my shoulder. There's plenty of sun left in this fall afternoon and I relish the cool breeze. My boots crunch the leaves underfoot and the rest stir and dance in the wind. My hair's grown a little longer and it kisses my face, a feeling once familiar.

            I walk the rows of headstones until I come to one tucked beneath a willow tree. There are new artificial flowers in Christmas colors in the urn sitting atop Jamie's grave. I stand at the foot of his headstone for a moment, reading the inscription that's seared in my memory.
James "Jamie" Morgan, November 15, 1996-January 21, 2013, Son, Brother, Friend.
Tears start to well in my eyes as I kneel down and gently touch the indentions.

           
"Hear You Me" by Jimmy Eat World filters through our conversation. We're on the way to the bowling alley, but Jamie stops talking the moment the song comes on. His eyes stay on the road as he gets this distant look in his eyes. His hand reaches across the console and takes mine. He squeezes my hand, the conversation completely halted, the car filled with only Jim Adkins's voice.

            "Jamie?" I'm looking at him, his handsome profile illuminated in the moonlight. That slightly crooked nose, broken from a fight in tenth grade that always makes me laugh, that perfectly messy hair that a rock star would kill for, the heart of gold that he never lets anyone see, only me. As I sit there, I wonder how did I ever get so lucky to be able to call him my friend?

            "Isn't this song beautiful?" He asks, our hands still entwined.

            We pull into the bowling alley parking lot and Jamie puts the car in park. We sit there, listening to the song, our eyes scanning everything but each other.

            "One of the best."

            "When I die I want this played at my funeral."

            "It's beautiful. But I'm not sure what I want played at my funeral. Blink 182 maybe?"

            Jamie faces me, one hand draped on the steering wheel, and sighs. "I won't be here for that, but I'm sure it'll be a party," he jokes. His eyes are drinking in my face as he tries to laugh.

            I punch him in his arm, "Shut up! I'm dying first and that's all there is to it. I don't want to do this without you, got it?"

            He shakes his head, his words and tone not matching, "Fine. But on the off chance I do go first, I want this played at my funeral. Okay?"

            I nod, satisfied with his answer. To think of losing Jamie made me want to curl up in a ball. I couldn't live without him, without my best friend.

            But I didn't get to make his wish come true. His parents refused, his sister wouldn't help, and my mom said to let it rest. I tried to break into the sound booth at the funeral home, but got caught. Nothing worked and it only made the pain worse. My best friend didn't even get his last wish and wasn't that the least I could do? Hadn't I promised him that?

            Tears begin to well up in my eyes, but it's okay. I came here for closure, closure for both Jamie and me. I will never forget him, nor would I ever want to. The memories of us sneaking in after curfew, him crashing at my house, our late night drives for fast food, walking through the halls of our school, never walking through life alone. Jamie is one of the best things to ever happen to me and he taught me so much. He taught me to love, to be me, to appreciate life and to live it fully. He taught me how to be a friend and he taught me how to stand up for myself. The tattoo almost winks at me, my constant reminder of Jamie, as I settle the Ipod at the head of the grave, along with the speaker.

            I draw a picture frame from the bag, the one I brought just for Jamie to keep. Inside is a copy of the picture of us from our last Halloween together. I carefully place it on the bottom of his headstone.

            "Jamie," I begin, my voice cracking. The tears slide down my cheeks as I unwrap his letter to me, the letter I finally re-read after a year--an entire year of guilt and heartbreak. "Thank you for those beautiful words. Thank for being the best friend anyone could ever ask for. You were always so bright, like this wonderful light shining in the dark. You gave me so much in our short time together, so much that I never thanked you for. Thank you for loving me, for believing that I matter, for always making sure I knew how much, even in death," I say as I hold his letter up to the sky. Chills descend upon my arms as the wind stirs, my hair whipping wildly. "I'm not mad at you anymore. God, I was so mad at you--mad at you for leaving and for leaving me behind. Every day without you has been torture, but I think I'm finally understanding how to live with it. It'll never go away, the pain of losing you, but it can be made better by remembering you as you were in life, remembering our times together." I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I'm about to say. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I'm so sorry for not seeing that you were unhappy, that you were actually sick, for not going after you that night. I finally understand it's not my fault, no matter what anyone says, but I'm still so sorry," my voice is choked sobs, I'm trying to control it, because I have so much left to say. Finally I wipe my eyes on my cardigan and continue. "But I love you, you crazy wonderful boy. I love you more than you ever knew, will ever know. And now, because I couldn't do it at your funeral, I've got something for you."

            I bend over and play Jimmy Eat World's "Hear You Me" as loud as it'll go. The tears don't stop, they keep falling and falling, but it’s cleansing and I realize I never properly grieved Jamie. I hid behind guilt and fear, not standing in love and memories.

            I stand up, grabbing handfuls of leaves and I sing the lyrics at the top of my lungs--every word striking my heart, a balm to the hurt and pain.

            As the chorus comes on, I throw the leaves into the air, watching as they fall and rain onto Jamie. Some fly upon the wind and I smile. I spin around and dance and pretend that Jamie is here with me. I wonder what he thinks, if he misses me at all, if he knows I'll never forget him? I spin faster, the words louder and louder, my heart slowly pulling itself back together one piece at a time.

            When the song ends, I collapse next to Jamie's tombstone, my voice barely a whisper, "May angels lead you in, Jamie."

RYDER

            The lights are low and I'm up next. I'm not as nervous as I thought I would be, although I hate the idea of my Dad being in the crowd. He's been spending even more time with me since Claire told Mrs. Weathersby about my cutting. That led to the counselor talking with me and then my father and then a therapist. I had to lie to all of them, tell them that it was just for kicks. I didn't tell them that I do it to keep myself from actually doing the real thing. That it calms me somehow.

            I wonder if Claire will show up. I wish I could've kissed her one last time. I flick the lucky pick between my fingers and think about the way she carried this around in her pocket, how we were supposed to trade it off. She can have it forever after tonight. I double check my guitar case for the rope and find it hidden carefully beneath a black tee shirt. It's not the fastest, but it's the best for me. My original plan was to OD, but I can't do that because I don’t want anything linking me to my piece of crap mom.

            The band finishes, they get cheers and I hear my name called over the microphone. This is it. My dream come to life. My last dream ever, even though one last kiss with Claire would be better.

CLAIRE

            I make it inside the packed club just in time to hear Ryder's name announced on the microphone. My heart twists up inside when I see him take the stage. He's so handsome and it's not just that that stuns me. It's that even though he tries his absolute hardest to push people away, to push me away, he's still good at heart. He never pushed me or pressured me into anything I didn't want, he spent Jamie's birthday with me, he made me understand and realize that I needed to grieve Jamie, not to let him go, but to rejoin the land of the living. Ryder gave me the strength to re-read Jamie's last words to me. To actually read them and take them to heart. I just hope it isn't too late for us, that he'll give me another chance.