Early starts aren't my thing. I barely even made it to the meet up spot in the school parking lot on time, but somehow, I snagged a passenger seat in one of the vans. It was 5:30AM and we had until 2PM to get to the beach house where we would be spending the next week in pure Valentine's paradise. Bless the weird heart of our President Benson.
I was soon made to regret choosing the passenger seat because I had a front row opportunity to experience the warbly singing of our Student Aide, Melissa. The genre of choice was show tunes and you can already guess the agony I found myself in when Rent made an appearance on the track. 'Seasons of Love', especially when sung off key, can make any sane person go off the deep end, and I am nowhere near sane.
"Measure, measure your life in luh-"
"OKAY, who's ready for a song change?" A hand reached through the seats to stop the music from playing and Melissa from butchering the most iconic note of Rent's history. It belonged to another Student Aide, and my old friend, Jeremy Hannimen. I only remember his full name because his nickname was Handyman back in high school. He only accepted it because he was a whizz at fixing stuff, whether it was building or problems.
"Hey, that's not fair! We were just getting to the good part!" I had never seen Melissa pout before but the way her round face scrunched together, it looked as if a child had been told they couldn't do something.
Jeremy let out a hearty laugh, a comforting sound that took me ages back in time when we were just teenagers figuring out life. "You're going to miss the exit if you keep up the performance. Besides, I think Leila was just trying to sleep."
I looked up into his reflection in the rear view mirror and caught the wink he passed my way.
If I had to describe Jeremy as a color, I would say sandy brown. Jeremy was a white boy through and through but his natural tan stayed with him through the winter months. His blonde hair merely complimented his skin and how his eyes sparkled in dark green mischief. I had never seen anyone with eyes that color until I met him in ninth grade. He had a slender frame that did him justice in his sport of choice, baseball, but if he ever flexed for anyone (because he would if they asked), he was a perfect likeness to the Greek God, Apollo. At least what I think Apollo would look like.
Jeez, by the way I described him, you think I was in love with him or something, it's not like that. I can admire and be platonic, trust me. Jeremy knows that. I know that.
I think.
I gave him a look that read, Get me out of here, to which he replied with a cheesy grin and a mouthed so sorry. It was gonna be one long car ride. I adjusted my side into the crack between the door and my seat and laid my head down against the window. Maybe sleep would get me through this. Or maybe Seussical was going to make me open the door and jump.
~
Life was not like a box of chocolates for me. It was like trail mix. Everything sucked except for those sweet little M&Ms whenever you got lucky in the pool. However, it had been a long time since I had gotten an M&M.
In school, I was not a very good textbook learner. I always had issues in the classroom but somehow, I was able to pull through at the end each year, making me a B student at best. My mother forced me to take harder classes for my very first semester of college. I am now in my second and it is going swimmingly.
Reader, I hope you know that was sarcasm. I'm drowning.
Sixteen credits, two clubs for exposure to my school resume, and one hellish customer service job, and you've got one burnt out nineteen year old with sleep issues, an addiction to caffeine, and untreated mental health issues. More on that subject, my therapist is an eccentric quack who is very entertaining but I don't get anything from our sessions. I want a proper diagnosis, not to talk about my week. When I told him about our trip, instead of talking me out of it like a sane adult, he laughed and said, "Well, I hope you have a blast. I know I sure would." His wink wasn't like Jeremy's dreamy one but a delayed blink.
On top of that, I've developed an anxiety issue when it comes to confrontation and resolving my problems because of my job at a local grocery store. It's horrible how people treat service workers and how they can get away with it. Everyone should be forced to work a customer service job and see how it feels to be screamed at by entitled jerks with old money and sticks up their withering asses.
Despite all of this, my little M&M was named Chandler Jennings. My mom was so disappointed in my white boy phase but I didn't care. I met him in my junior year of high school while doing a choir assessment at our local college. He stood out to me because he looked like a white haired version of a muscular Tom Hiddleston. That's right. I said white hair. He had it dyed as a statement to his step mom who hated anything not in line with the Sisters of Confederacy's ideals. He filled out the choir mandated suit elegantly and he had such a bright smile that I couldn't resist the urge to talk to him. So I did. I got his number. We talked for ages. We only lived twenty minutes away from each other. We went on dates, kissed, went to prom, did more than kiss, and many other lovey dovey things.
I thought he was the one. I thought we would be together forever and then college came. He got accepted into Berkeley, and I got accepted into NYU. We decided to part ways and still keep in contact, but never spoke to each other since the August of our first semester. I ended up going Northeastern Community College because funds were low and I did not want to exhaust my parents at all. He's in Berkley and I'm definitely not in NYU. That would be such a change between us that I was scared to even reach out and tell him the news. What if he didn't want to talk to me anymore? What if he had another partner already? What if they were a forever thing like we were? It was a headache to think about so I never did tell him. I couldn't risk the rejection. Maybe I can wait until spring break when he comes back home.
However, it seemed I didn't have to wait long.
There was a head of white curls sitting in the passenger seat of the van parked in front of us at a gas station. I had fallen asleep during my day dream and hadn't opened my eyes until we came to a complete stop and I felt a gentle hand shake me awake from the back seat. I slowly sat up with my eyes staring straight ahead to the pair of coal black eyes staring through me.
Jeremy leaned in to whisper to me as my hands started to shake in my lap. "Hey, hey hey, it's okay. Take deep breaths. I'm sorry for not telling you, I thought you already knew? I should've known when he said not to worry about it. But now I'm worried. Are you crying?"
Thankfully everyone else had already gotten out of the car at that point. Jeremy had stayed to wake me up in case I needed a snack or had to go to the bathroom but instead, he was witnessing me have a tearful reaction to seeing my ex boyfriend. Unfortunately, it wasn't a happy one.
"Do you need a minute? Do you want me to get out of the car?" He was placing what felt like a tissue into my fists. I wasn't able to see through my tears, but I definitely heard a familiar voice come through the open car door to the backseat.
"If you don't mind. I just need to talk to them for a second."
It was Chandler motherfucking Jennings.