Page 42 of The Moon Also Rises
“Don’t stay out here on my behalf,” Jake says, and I hear that tense, edgy tone of his again. I choose to ignore it, or rather to focus on something else. I lean back and look up at the sky. It doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for. I keep my eyes on it as I soak up the silence.
“You’re still here,” Jake says a minute or two later, his voice still sharp.
“Just looking at the moon,” I say.
Jake lifts his head up and finds it too.
“It’s a full moon. Of course, it bloody is,” he grunts.
“What does that mean?”
“All the strange chaotic stuff always happens at full moons. Isn’t that where the wordslunacyandlunaticcome from? From the moon?”
“Forester, you’re surprisingly wise when you’re wasted.”
“You have to stop calling me that,” Jake mutters, his head dropping again.
“What? Wise?”
“No, my surname. It does something to me,” he says quietly.
My interest piqued, I shift forward and rest my elbows on my knees so that our heads are a little closer. “What do you mean, it does something to you?”
Jake kicks at the gravel on the ground. “Nothing. I’m just waffling because I’m drunk.”
“Then let’s get you upstairs and in bed,” I say, readying myself to stand but I stop when Jake doesn’t move.
“You go. I want to stay. The fresh air is helping me sober up, I think.”
I don’t move. I lean back again and watch the moon some more.
“You’re still here,” Jake says after a while, his voice softer now.
“Still watching the moon.”
“Why?” Jake asks and I am pretty sure he’s referring to why I’m still here but I choose to interpret his question a different way.
“When I lived in California, and before that when I was travelling a lot with work, whenever I was feeling homesick, I would look for the moon. I found comfort in knowing that it was the same moon that my family could see in Birmingham. The same moon my friends could find all over the world. It was always the same moon no matter where I was.”
“Ugh,” Jake groans and it’s not exactly the response I was expecting. “Sorry, I thought I was going to chuck up again.”
I can’t help but laugh. I take it all as a sign to stop trying to share more of myself, at least not with Jake Forester who is running his hands through his hair and closing his eyes, and thanks to some kind of magic, his freckles are even more noticeable in the silver moonlight. I want to touch them, maybe even kiss one or two. Stunned at these thoughts, I look away and stare at my feet.
“That was beautiful though,” he says. “What you just said. It’s hard being away from home for a long period of time. It’s hard when you come back too. You don’t really feel like you belong anywhere.”
“Yeah.” I nod. That’s exactly how it feels, even if not for the exact reasons Jake thinks.
“I’m sorry I’ve been a bitch,” Jake says and that prompts me to look at him. “I wasn’t very welcoming to you when you joined the company. And while sharing an office has been less than ideal for both of us, I know I probably haven’t made it easier for you.”
“Jake—”
“No, I need to apologise. I know you go on those long walks to get away from me, to give me space. And it’s very generous. But you shouldn’t have to do it. I could have made it easier for you.”
I risk something then. “Yeah, you could have,” I say, and his eyes find mine. Sitting side by side, we’re close enough that his face doesn’t quite come into full focus in my eyes. The only thing I can do is narrow my gaze onto his freckles again, onto the length of his nose. Onto his lips.
“So, apology accepted?” Jake asks.
“Apology accepted.” I nod.
