The Understorey

“Cool. So.......I can’t believe you almost floored that guy,” I teased, referring to the guy she kicked, trying to make the situation lighter.



It didn’t work. Tears began to flow and she buried her face into my chest. I ran my fingers up and down her back. She pulled away quickly, obviously not wanting to be comforted, only wanting to be the comforter. She wiped the tears from her eyes but she wasn’t fooling me. Her eyes were still glassy trying to hold them back.



“Jules. This is nothing babe. Trust me, I’ve been in a lot worse scraps than this.”



She didn’t say anything but tried to smile. She grabbed three washcloths from a drawer and waited for the water to get warm before soaking them and wringing them out. She helped me remove my shirt and I twisted in pain from having to contort my sides and chest. The bruises had already started to show which made her gasp.



“Yikes,” I said standing up in front of the bathroom mirror. “Oh well. Remember that two hundred and fifty pound lineman that Reggie couldn’t block me from? This isn’t much worse than that.” She nodded.



I grimaced as she took a damp rag to the blood on my face and neck. When I was blood free she had me lay back in a chair in her living room and then went to the kitchen sink to wash as much blood as possible from my t-shirt. Several minutes passed in silence.



“You’re awfully quiet over there Jules. What are you thinking about?”



“Nothing,” she said. “Are you okay over there? Comfortable?”



“Uh, well, Jules my sides are really sore and it’s hard to get comfortable,” I said.



“I can fix that.”



She pulled an aspirin bottle from a cabinet, opened the bottle, removed two and grabbed a bottle of water.



“Here babe,” she said, handing me the bottle and little pills.



“Thanks sweetheart,” I said, swallowing them.



Tears began to well once more.



“Babe, tell me what’s wrong.”



“Me. I’m what’s wrong. You were well liked before we started dating. Revered even. I come into your life and all hell breaks loose. I mean, my God Elliott! Look at what they did to your face! Taylor’s right. I don’t belong in your group. I’m bad news for you. I’m the one responsible for your current condition!”



I fought the pain and dragged Jules onto my lap.



“Stop! Just stop it Jules! You’re being ridiculous. Before I met you, I was just another lemming ready to drop off the cliff. If you hadn’t come along to wake me up, I would have found myself stuck in a rut going nowhere fast.



“And you’re right you could never belong in that group! Because the truth of it is, they don’t belong around you. You’re too good for them and I was just stupid enough to think they could mesh with you but they can’t. Except for a very very few, they aren’t worthy of our time. And as far as the drunk goes? I’ll just have to get used to that. I have a feeling I’ll be fending goons off of you for a long time. You’re too beautiful for me Jules.”



“I’m not too beautiful for you. No one could be. You’re the best Elliott and you deserve the same but I at least want to earn the chance to always be by your side.”



“That’s where you’re wrong Jules. You are the best for me, the very, and you will always be at my side not because you’ve earned that right to be, that’s absurd, but because that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s where we belong.”



I kissed her forehead softly and smiled at her.



“I’ll be right back,” she said, kissing my cheek.



She flipped on her iPod’s docking station and Zero 7’s ‘Destiny’ started playing. I heard her rummaging around the kitchen for a moment and she came back with some ice wrapped in a hand towel. She sat in my lap and gently dabbed at the knots on my face and it soothed them immediately.



“I felt you were in pain and couldn’t take it anymore,” she said absently, “You’re right, you know? I was being ridiculous. We do belong together.”



She felt where I needed relief the most and would keep the ice there until I needed it elsewhere.



“You’re wonderful,” I said.



“Oh whatever. This is not a big deal,” she said.



“It is to me.”



I grabbed her wrist and stopped her from dabbing. I felt a knot in her stomach.



“Thank you, by the way,” she said thickly, before I could say anything else.



“For what?”



“For saving me. For protecting me, Elliott,” she said, a tear in her eye.



“I only did what I had to do.”



“No, you did what you wanted to do,” she corrected me, with a teary smile. “I could see what you were doing for me Elliott. The whole damn room could see it.”



“What did they see?” I asked quietly.



“That you would risk your life for me. I saw it in your eyes Elliott. You would die for me, wouldn’t you?” She asked bluntly.



“Jules, I would kill tigers for you. Yes, I would die for you.”



“I know you would,” she whispered, so thick I could barely understand her, her face tight with pain, “but please don’t.”



She leaned in to my lips and kissed them as deeply as she could without causing me pain. The unbelievable love I felt from her was overpowering and made me forget the hurt. I pulled her into my chest, kissing her with rigid lips, trying to channel all the passion I felt for her in them instead of taking it out on the rest of her.



When the kiss came to an all too short end she laid her head on my chest and we drifted off to sleep, our electricity warming us through and making us too tired to remember that it wasn’t allowed. Before I closed my eyes I could have sworn Jules had spoken but she was asleep. I simply heard, sleep well tonight, before slipping into a deep rest.



I woke startled at five in the morning to the sound of the phone ringing. I tapped Jules’ shoulder.



“Shit. Jules. Wake up babe.”



“Huh?”



“The phone’s ringing Jules.”



“Crap.” She stood and ran to answer it. “Hello? Yes, he is. I.....okay, yes ma’am.” She handed me the phone, “It’s your mom and she wants to talk to you.”



I dragged my hand over my mouth and tried hard not to panic.



“Hello?”



“What are you doing Elliott? Do you know what time it is?” She asked.



“Well, mom, it’s a long story.”



“I’m listening.”



“Basically, I got into a fist fight at Matthew Tanen’s party and got hurt.”



“Are you okay?”



“I think so. A few cuts and bruises but I think I’ll survive.”



“Oh, you think you’ll survive huh?”



“Yeah,” I continued, ignoring her sarcasm. “I was covered in blood and could barely walk so Jules brought me here to clean me up. I fell asleep on a chair in her living room.” I conveniently left out the part where she fell asleep in my lap. I didn’t find that to be particularly relevant to the story.



“And?”



“And that’s all.”



She sighed.



“Okay, well I’ll be up and waiting when you walk in our door in about five minutes. Understood?”



“Yes, ma’am.”



I hung up the phone.



“Jules?”



“Yeah?”



“I’m in deep.”



She bit her bottom lip.



I walked in my back door four minutes later.



“Mom?”



“I’m in my bedroom,” she yelled.



I walked in to see both of my parents up with their backs against their headboard, still in their pajamas. I rubbed the back of my neck to redistribute the pooling blood I know that had to be painting my face red and leaned my sore shoulder against the jamb. When they saw me I didn’t get the reaction I was expecting, at all.



“Oh my God!” My mom screamed and ran over to me, my dad not far behind. “What happened to you son?”



“I told you I’d gotten into a fight.”



“Oh my God Mark! Look at his face!”



“I look that bad, huh? You should see the other guys, barely a scratch on ‘em,” I teased.



“Who did this Elliott?” My dad asked, inspecting my throwing arm. He scowled when he saw the knuckles on my right hand.



“Couple of college kids, from Charleston I assume.”



“Did you call Danny?” My mom asked.



“No, I didn’t have time to. I needed to get Jules out of there. We had a heck of a night.”



“Sit down,” my mom commanded.



“Well, I’d love to, but I can’t.”



“Why?”



“Because they punched the crap out of my ribs and it hurts to sit.”



“Well, that quells any suspicions I had about you and the Jacobs girl,” my dad said.



“Mark!”



I almost laughed.



“Are they broken?” She asked.



I’d had a broken rib before.



“No, just bruised,” I said.



“Okay, well, let’s just get you upstairs,” she said, “and we’ll help you lie down.”



They both helped me take a stair at a time and once I reached the top I exhaled and promised myself that I’d never let someone hit me in the ribs again. Death before anyone punches me there again, theirs or mine. My parents helped me lie down and my mom promised me a long talk the next morning after church.



The next morning, while everyone readied for church, I just laid there wishing I could join them when we heard a knock on the back door.



“Hi Julia,” my dad said.



“Hi Mark,” a bubbly Jules said.



She called them by their first names with ease. I could barely squawk out Mr. or Mrs. Jacobs.



“To what do we owe the pleasure young lady?” My mom asked dryly.



Uh, oh.



“I thought maybe I’d take care of Elliott while you were at church. You know, get him water, things like that.” My mom didn’t respond, so she added, “I’m not skipping out. I’m going to a later service.”



“I don’t think that would be necessary Julia. Suddenly, I’m not so comfortable with you and Elliott being alone.”



“Oh,” Jules said, disappointed.



The feeling reached me and was so strong it made my heart ache for her.



“Mom!” I yelled, holding my side.



“Wait here,” my mom said to Jules.



She climbed the steps and entered my room.



“Mom, seriously?”



“Well, Elliott. Can you blame me?”



“I guess not,” I conceded, “but look at me. What the heck could we even do?”



She thought for a moment and her face softened.



“Julia,” she called over her shoulder.



“Yes Shelby?” Still so familiar.



“Come on up girl.”



Jules bounded up the stairs and burst through the door, tossing herself next to me. No propriety, that one. My mom frowned.



“Look at me, both of you.”



We stared and I could tell she wanted to laugh at the both of us but she kept her composure.