Chapter Twelve

I’m writing when the doorbell rings, jotting down thoughts into a brand new notebook, this time making sure to keep the content clean and completely impersonal. It’s not a complete reflection of my feelings like that, but until I regain my confidence it’s going to have to do. My original notebook still hasn’t turned up, and each new day that passes, the fear it might becomes a little less potent. I figure that Marcy is right, and wherever it is, or whomever it is with, after so much time in the wilderness, it’s not likely to suddenly make its whereabouts known now.

I haven’t seen many people since the end of year party, nor since my punishment was lifted, but Marcy was right in that respect too, the few people I’ve bumped into from school, either haven’t seen the video at all or if they have, have had the decency not to comment on it, at least not to my face.

Sadly, I haven’t seen much of Marcy over the last few weeks either. The guy she hooked up with at Alex’s party is now her boyfriend, so with the little time she gets outside of her full-time job, she’s been spending it with him and not chilling out with me.

I’m happy for her, and with the spare time, I’ve been able to concentrate on getting my own life in order too. I’ve been focussing on my writing, and I’ve been looking for some part-time work in the vague possibility I can think about moving out of home at some point over the next year, and begin to work a little harder on gaining my own independence.

Mom and Dad have been weirder than normal lately and part of me wonders whether it’s because they’ve suddenly realized I’m finally becoming an adult and soon enough I’ll want to flee the nest. What I can’t work out, however, is whether they’re looking forward to it or not.

The bell rings again, and I’m half inclined to pretend I’m not here and let it ring out. I hate answering the door at the best of times, even less so when I’m supposed to be writing, but I’m aware that it’s probably good for my confidence and something I should embrace instead of avoid.

I’m not expecting anyone, and from my window I can’t see the porch below, so when I finally get to the door, the bell ringing for the third time, I have no idea who to expect to be standing on the other side.

When I see them, my heart leaps into my mouth. I look from one twin to the other and back again. One perfect mouth to the next, one incredible set of smoldering blue eyes to the other, one gigantic, mouth watering torso to the one alongside it. Apart from stolen glances out of the window as they leave or arrive, I haven’t seen these two since the morning after the party.

“Hey”, Jack says.

“Hey”, Zach says.

“Hey”, I say.

And then in unison, accidentally. “Do you mind if we come in?”

***

Jack and Zach lean into the couch, arms folded behind their heads in a mirror image of one another.

“Separating?” I say, the word catching in my throat.

“Mom’s kicking him out”, Zach says.

“Dad’s leaving”, Jack corrects him. “It’s the only way.”

I don’t know what to say. “I’m sorry”, is about the best I can manage. “That’s really shit news.”

“Yeah, it’s not all that unexpected to be honest”, Zach says. “I guess you’ve heard them lately.”

“Anyway, we wanted to let you know”, Jack says. “Before you found out from someone else.”

“Thank you”, I say. “I mean, it’s really none of my business, but thank you.”

“It’s going to be weird to adjust”, Zach says. “But it’s definitely for the best.”

“That’s the other thing”, Jack says, and my heart leaps into my throat for the second time in fifteen minutes. “I know we haven’t seen each other much over the last few months, no way near as much as we used to when we first moved here.”

“I guess not”, I lie. With about ninety nine percent accuracy I could probably detail exactly how much time we’ve spent together over the last eight years. I might even be able to recite full conversations.

“With the training and stuff we’ve kind of been busy, you know, more distant than we would like”, Zach adds.

“But we still have a lot of history together, and, I don’t know, you were always there for us when we needed you”, Jack says.

“Which makes it even harder”, Zach says.

“Really hard”, Jack adds.

“Makes what even harder?” I say, almost afraid to ask. Donkey look more uncomfortable than I ever remember seeing them before, to the point where they don’t even seen to be able to find their natural synchronisation to tell me exactly what’s on their minds. This is difficult for them and I’m sure it’s not just me imagining it. I have no idea why I feel scared, but I do. Something tells me this is about to be way worse news than just the fact their parents are splitting up.

“I wish it were different”, Zach says. “Like, in so many different ways.”

“Different?” I ask, clutching on to the word like a lifeline. Different how? I want to ask. Different with me?

“Dad’s moving away”, Jack confirms.

“Moving?” I repeat, the world falling in one word at a time.

Zach looks from the floor to fix his eyes on me. “They’re selling the house.”

“Fuck.”

The twins nod. “Mom’s going to stick around here, at least for now, but Dad’s set on moving home, which kind of helps us both”, Jack says.

“Where’s home?” I ask, trying not to process it all at once.

“Louisiana”, Zach says solemnly, “We took the offer because of what it meant to him.”

“Now it makes sense in a different way”, his brother adds.

“And your Mom?” I ask.

The twins shrug in unison. “She might go home too”, Jack says. “She hasn’t decided yet. It’s been coming for a while, but it’s still pretty fresh.”

“And what about you two in the meantime?”

“That’s sort of the main reason why we came over”, Zach says, his eyes back to the floor again. “Dad’s found somewhere already and he wants us to go with him.”

“Fuck”, I say again, unable to hide my disappointment. “That’s, fuck.”

I’m stuck for words, half shocked half completely blown out of the water. My plan was the rest of the summer, and after that, the summers that followed. If both of them move away, where the fuck does that leave us?

“It’s a bit of a shock”, Jack says. “We never figured we’d be leaving permanently.”

“Or that our parents would never be living next door”, Zach adds, and they look at each other for a moment before both placing their eyes upon me.

“We also counted on that”, Jack says. “You know, having the time, with you around.”

“I’m always going to be there”, I say, “You can always come and visit.”

The twins smile, but we all know it isn’t the same.

“I just wish we’d made more time for each other while we could”, Jack says. “Instead of wasting it all training.”

“It’s a shame”, Jack adds. “I kind of feel like we might have taken you too much for granted.”

I’m not sure how to respond because what it feels like they are saying to me I’m disinclined to allow myself to believe. Equally, they could be talking about friendship, but Donkey and I haven’t had a strong friendship for years, which makes this sound much more like something deeper. I shake it off, worried I’m somehow stuck too much in willful fantasy.

“Anyway”, Jack says, seemingly unable to dare himself further towards what I want to be true. “We just wanted to say that.”

“We’re going to miss you, Jenny”, Zach adds. “Really miss you.”

“When are you leaving?” I ask, just to ask it and make them need to stay here even longer, not because I have any interest in knowing.

“The end of the week”, Jack says. “Maybe even earlier. Dad’s already finished work so it depends on when he can get ready.”

Little by little my life with Donkey slips even further away. “Are you having a party or something or-?”

Zach’s head shaking cuts me off mid sentence.

“It’s not really our thing”, Jack says. “We kind of did all of our goodbyes at the end of year party. All of them except yours of course.”

“It’s not really something we want to think too much about”, Zach says. “We kind of want to get the move done and then concentrate on focussing on college and football and seeing where that takes us.”

While you forget about me and your life here.

“So this is it?” I say, trying to disguise the sheer unadulterated sadness in my voice. “The end of your story here?”

Jack and Zach look at each other again, and then back to me with mirrored expressions of resignation.

“I’m sorry, Jenny”, Jack says. “I know it’s not the best news.”

“We wish it were different too”, Zach says, as though able to read my mind. “And you never know, Mom might decide to stay after all, which means that there’ll be a reason for us to come back.”

Me, I want to shout. I’m your reason to come back. But what I do instead is nod understandingly, when selfishly, I want to understand nothing of what’s happening at all.

“We should get back”, Jack says after a stun of silence has wrapped us too long in introspective thought, and as I walk them to the door I can’t help but think that finally the gates of opportunity are closing on me forever. From here on in, it’s me, my pen and paper, my imagination and fuck all else.

“We’ll drop by again on the day”, Zach says, already halfway out of my life.

“Just to say goodbye properly”, Jack adds, biting his lip like I’ve always liked him to do.

“I’ll be here”, I say firmly, unable to stop myself thinking this might actually be the last time I see them.

I watch them turn, leap the low fence back into their yard and disappear all too quickly through their front door without a single glance back in my direction.

I sit on my porch for an hour, my mind a mess of emotions, before the darkness finally forces me inside, where I curl up in bed way too stunned still to even bring myself to cry.

I’ve always had trouble assimilating things, which is why I’m such an idealist in the first place, so I know that when Donkey leave permanently at the end of this week, it’s going to take me a lifetime to believe it’s true.

A lifetime of wasted opportunities while I try desperately to grab onto the one thing I know I’ll never be able to have, still unable to stop believing that at some point, finally, it’ll some how make its way to me.