Jay seemed to take his movie night as a pass for Jamie to show up more regularly and hang out with him and Brian at our place. Thus, I quickly adjusted to spending less time around them and found other things I could busy myself with whenever they were around.
That's what I was doing that night while Jay and his friends had, once again, hijacked the front room, and the idea of transforming my closet into a productive haven struck me as both a practical and invigorating endeavour.
After clearing the outer layer of items, I found myself bombarded with boxes upon boxes of memories in the form of old mementoes, forgotten trinkets, and dusty photo albums from the past, which I placed on my bed, hoping to enjoy a journey down memory lane at some point in the evening. Then, I was left with the realisation that I had taken on a much more ambitious project than I had previously thought.
A large box and chest filled with books, equipment, and old school supplies sat at the back of the closet; there was no way I would get the job done within a day if I tried to move the boxes alone.
That's what little brothers are for, I joked as I headed downstairs to enlist his help.
Jay, Brian, Matty and Jamie were all sitting with their heads on their phones, chattering among themselves as they played some kind of Call of Duty game. Not one of them noticed my entrance into the room, bar Jamie, of course, who always seemed to be aware of me, and who gave a sweet smile before looking back down at his phone to commence his game.
"Jay," I called as I tapped him on the shoulder. "I need your help quickly."
"Yeah, sure, but give me a few. I'm in the middle of a game," he replied, clearly less than invested in my request.
"Just quickly, but I need you to come now. I'm in mid-flow."
"Me too," he rushed, giving the impression that I was disturbing him.
"Can't you just pause it for a couple of minutes?"
"You can't pause a live match V, I tell you this all the time. Ten minutes ... please. We've planned this rematch for ages."
"Brian?" I suggested.
"Sorry, V. It's a team match," he said lifting his phone to show me the screen.
I let out a small 'Urgh', and walked over to sit by the bookshelf, resigning myself to just sit and wait. There was no way I was leaving him before he finished his match as I'd probably end up waiting another thirty minutes longer as they discussed their game if I didn't personally escort him.
Okay, ten minutes, I guess, which I was just about to confirm before Jay shouted for Jamie to concentrate on the game.
"Sorry," Jamie said with a small laugh. "I got distracted, but … I guess I'm free now," he said, standing to face me. "I can help you if you want."
"Oh, err … " I said, nervous under Jamie's gaze. "It's fine. I can wait, I don't want to mess up your game."
"It's no problem," he said. "I already got killed. I'm not very good at it."
"Seriously," Jay added. "He's really bad at it," he said emphasising the 'really'. "You can take him if you want."
I looked back at Jamie, hesitantly, as he came around the sofa and stood opposite me with a faint smile on his face.
"A couple of minutes, right?" Jamie asked.
"I guess," I said.
"So, there's no harm in me helping. Is there?"
"I guess not," I said, feeling a little helpless to refuse him.
On my response, his small smile transformed into a full one, causing a low groan to leave me.
There is one harm, I thought, remembering that the main reason I was converting my closet was to avoid spending time around Jamie, but moving the boxes wouldn't take long, and then he could get back to his game, and I could get on with my workspace.
"Fine, let's go," I said, placing a mask of nonchalance over myself as I stood and led him up to my room.
"I won't keep you long," I said before we entered. "We're just going to move some boxes, and then you can go."
I was clearly more nervous than him despite my nonchalant act, and Jamie, with his sweet smile, simply gave a small shrug.
That's right, I'm probably overthinking as usual, I thought and gestured for him to enter, with me following closely behind.
"So this is your bedroom," he said, looking around. "It's very grown up."
"Grown up?" I asked, and wondered if he too was trying to come to terms with the impossible difference between us.
"Yeah. Most teenagers I know have at least one poster on their wall. Either a singer or character that they like from somewhere."
He was right about that. Jason also had a few posters on his wall, and I remembered having some when I was a teenager.
"Is that what you have on your walls?" I asked.
"I did," he said, turning to look at me. "A few game posters and a few anime characters, but I took them down a few weeks back."
"Why? Because you're grown?" I said, sounding more mocking than I'd intended.
He met my gaze with a flat expression. "I am," he said, annoyance flickering in his eyes.
"Right … er," I said, averting my eyes from his penetrating gaze and looking over to my closet. "The things are in there. There's a box and a chest."
Jamie made quick steps over to the closet and began positioning himself in preparation to lift the box, which prompted an urgency from me as I rushed over to stand at the other side of the box.
"You don't have to do it by yourself," I said and grabbed the other side of the box.
"Why? Worried you'll be done for child labour?"
That got me, and I broke out laughing.
"I thought you'd like that one," he said, as his eyes danced mischievously above his full grin. "Although you don't have to use every opportunity you can to remind me that I'm young."
Maybe I have overdone it, I wondered.
I rarely spoke to Jamie alone, except for a greeting and sometimes one or two pleasantries, but I did tend to find every excuse I could to refer to Jay and his group of friends as kids or teens, and Jamie had clearly caught on it was all for his benefit.
"Well, you used to refer to me as a mom whenever you could," I said finding a useful justification for my behaviour.
"Because I thought you were a mom, remember? Besides I only ever said it lovingly, I wasn't ever trying to ostracise you."
Ouch! Did he have to use the word lovingly? I complained inwardly.
"Let's get the chest," I said, diverting from the conversation. "I really should get this completed."
We carried the chest over to the corner, which I opened while explaining that I just needed to find a few items in it, then after we replaced the box on top of it, he was free to go back downstairs.
Jamie pushed his hands into his pockets and began to walk around the room slowly, surveying the items on my table and bed before he spoke again.
"Are these photo albums?" he asked of the albums I'd left on my bed for viewing later.
"Yeah."
"Can I look at them?" he said but was already flicking through one before I could answer.
I gave a small shake of my head, though I wasn't really annoyed and continued looking through the chest.
"Is this you?" he asked, pointing at a baby in a pushchair.
I nodded.
"So cute," he chuckled. "And this must be your dad."
"Yeah."
"And your mom?"
"Yep."
"And who's this?" he asked, as he pointed at a photo of me and my uncle.
I gave a small sigh, it was impossible to concentrate on my search with all the questions that Jamie was firing at me. So, instead, I went over to sit with him, on the floor beside my bed, as he went through the album, questioning and commenting as he did.
"How old are you here?" he asked, pointing at me at a school Christmas party.
"Fifteen or sixteen."
"Man, why wasn't I born in the nineties?"
Again he caught me off guard and I laughed. "Yeah, why weren't you?"
Jamie watched me with a look of satisfaction before continuing. "Well, for one, I'd have to beat up that guy right there," he said pointing at Matthew Thompson, my date for said party who was standing beside me with his arm over my shoulder. "He wasn't your boyfriend, was he?"
"Are you really getting jealous over some boy I knew 16 years ago?" I said with a small laugh.
"Nah, I'm joking," he said and settled his eyes on mine. "It's nice hearing you laugh again … making you laugh," he corrected himself. "I've missed you, so badly."
"Leon, stop," I said, gripping the top of my mattress to pull myself back up.
Jamie's hand shot out and grabbed hold of mine. "Please don't. We're just talking, it's nothing," he rushed.
Oh God, there it is again. The need to scream at the top of my lungs.
I pulled my hand out from under his but didn't move much more than that.
"Can't we just start again?" he said. "As friends … please."
"I don't think we can be …"
"There's nothing that says you can't be friends with someone just cause they have a crush on you. That's what friend-zoning is about."
"Sure," I said with a nervous laugh, not sure how effective the friendzone would be with him.
"Just friends and I'll try not to make comments that make you feel uncomfortable."
Jamie's head dropped into a tilt as he watched me with those familiar eyes that I dreamt of so often and missed staring into so much.
"Don't look at me like that," I said, gently swiping my fingers over his eyes to close them. "That makes me uncomfortable."
Jamie chuckled. "I really can't do much about how I look at you," he said as he combed his fingers through his hair; something he did when he was nervous, but looked cute as hell.
"Another thing," I said, reaching past him to pick up a hairband from my table. "Keep your hair tied back when you're here please."
His eyebrows furrowed as he looked from me to the hairband. "I thought you liked my hair."
"I lo … like your hair, Leon," I said, fumbling a little between the words love and like.
He let out a small 'Oh' as the reason for my request must have dawned on him and a wide smile spread on his face as he complied and tied his hair back.
"If we're setting conditions for our friendship, then, can you go back to calling me Jamie?" he asked.
"I don't know about that."
"Come on," he said. "I've agreed to everything you said."
That was true, but … "I'm trying to make things less uncomfortable."
"You feel uncomfortable saying my name?" he asked, his eyebrows dipping deeply. "I really messed up, didn't I?"
I offered a soft smile, and as usual, felt pained by the sad look on Jamie's face. "I guess, it's not that uncomfortable," I lied, knowing full well that my heart would wish for different circumstances every time I called his name.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"I guess that's it."
"So, we're friends?" Jamie asked, extending his hand to me.
Reluctantly, I took his hand while wondering exactly how he still held the power to win me over despite the efforts I'd made to free myself from the emotional grip he had over me.
"Friends," I agreed.