Page 23 of Riding Jamie

I don’t really know what to expect. I also don’t really know what I want. If I show up and Jamie is waiting for me, I know I’ll want to go back to him. I’ve started a life here. I have school and my internship and Alli, even Shane. I don’t know what to do.

All I know is that I never saw Jamie.

If he came here like Bo said, why didn't I see him? Why didn't he come find me? What am I supposed to do now?

As much as I don't want to admit it, if Jamie had been at my door, I would have welcomed him with open arms. I probably would have yelled at him a bit, but he would have explained, and I would have cried and held him so tight. I've never stopped loving him, not for a single second.

I roll over onto my back to stare up at my ceiling through bleary eyes, sighing heavily.

Even if I can admit all this to myself, I still don't know what to do. I want to see him. I want to make sure he's okay, to take care of him and let him explain everything to me, but what if it's too late now?

What if he decided that I’m too difficult, too much work? What if he really did give up on me?

The realization that Jamie has always been what I want, even more than NYU, is enough to make me want to cry again. If I lose him because I refused to give him a chance to explain, I don't know what I'll do.

I let my eyes close as I swallow hard, battling with my own thoughts.

I'm not going to make the same mistake twice.

I know what I want, and it's Jamie Walker. No matter what, the three years we were together mean so much to me.Hemeans so much to me. I can’t give up, even if it may be too late. I have to at least try.

I'm going to have to figure out exactly what to do about that soon, but I know I'm not just going to give up. Not this time. I'm going to fight for what I want and I'm not going to give up until I've tried everything I can manage.

But for now, I need some breakfast, and a probably inadvisable amount of painkillers.

A girl can't get the love of her life back with puffy eyes and a headache, after all.

My thoughts are still a mess as I push myself off the bed to change. I’ve been wearing these clothes for far too long as it is, and cozy pajamas are a Saturday morning must. Brushing my teeth and throwing my hair into the world’s laziest ponytail does make me feel a little more put-together. A little more human.

I trudge down the stairs, following the scent of bacon and coffee. Aunt Kathy’s back is turned to me when I wander into the kitchen, and she’s humming something softly under her breath. The sight reminds me so much of home that it makes my chest ache, and I smile softly, lingering in the doorway.

As much as she and my mom are wildly different people, they’re so similar in some ways. I know aunt Kathy has always seen me as a bit of a miracle, since she can’t have children of her own. When Mom had me, she was so excited to finally have a little girl to spoil rotten, and even more excited when my little sister came along. They’ve both been so good to me my entire life. No matter what silly thing I got wrapped up in—whether it was keeping me out of drama at school or reluctantly reminding my dad that I could make my own decisions, even if no one else agreed, when I brought Jamie home—they’ve always had my back.

I guess she’s incredibly wrapped up in the eggs she’s scrambling because she doesn’t notice me until I’m wrapping my arms around her from behind and squeezing her in a tight hug. She jumps, laughing softly when she realizes who it is.

“Good morning to you, too,” she says, grinning. “Did you finally get some sleep after our talk last night?”

Her grin fades when I step back enough to let her turn, her face shifting immediately into a worried frown. She slides the pan off the burner and flips the stove off, focusing all of her attention on me.

I almost want to cry again, but I’ve decided that I’m done with tears—for real this time.

I can’t spend my whole life sobbing and wishing for things to be different.

“Oh, Oakie, honey, what’s wrong? Did something else happen?”

I manage to smile as she frets over me, allowing her to herd me toward the table. She ushers me into a seat and then pulls another up right beside me so she can sit close enough to keep our hands clasped together.

“I’m ok,” I promise, but I can tell by the crease of her brows that she’s not convinced. “I just…I think I do need to go back home.”

It feels almost like a guilty admission, and I see the concern in her eyes grow. I don’t want her to think that I’m ungrateful, and I don’t want her to think that I haven’t loved the time I’ve gotten to spend with her and uncle Ricky. It’s just different here.

I wake up to the distant sound of horns honking from several stories below, and the air is thick with smog, and everything smells likepeople. I miss my own bedsheets, and I miss chasing Bo around the house, and even helping my mom out in the clinic, although I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve never had the stomach for it. It’s not that I don’t want to be here.

It’s just that I want to be home.

“Ok,” she says, her voice carefully even. “I can make the arrangements this morning and get you out on the first flight. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Yeah,” I say, dropping my gaze to where our hands are twined together. “We should book it for Thanksgiving, at least. Maybe Christmas, too. I don’t…I don’t know how long I need to go back for.”

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