Page 22 of Our Secret Moments

When I pass through the chilling hallways of Gilwell, I spot JoJo’s nurse. She’s a young woman, probably in her late twenties, with the same soft brown eyes as Elle and curly hair.

Arianna has been caring for JoJo for the last six months, but before that she was volunteering and since then they’ve created a strong bond. I’m glad she has somewhere here with her. If it wasup to me, I’d drop out of school completely just to be here every day, but that’s unrealistic.

“How is she today?” I ask Ari, nodding down to the community room where she’s most likely in a competitive game of chess with one of her friends like she is every week.

Arianna smiles tightly, her eyes twitching. She lets out a heavy sigh as if her next words are hard to get out. “She’s been thinking a lot about your mom today. She put that she was feeling nostalgic on the wellness sheet this morning, so don’t be surprised if she starts to bring up old memories.”

My chest pinches at the thought. I give Arianna a kind smile and thank her before slipping past her and walking through the doors of the community room.

It smells a lot fresher in here. They’re not allowed to have any perfumes that are too strong to not upset the other residents, but just being in my grandma’s presence brings me a different kind of peace. The community room adds a fresher take on the home and even has a few large plants taking up a space in each corner of the room.

It’s hard to miss my grandma JoJo, despite the loudness of her voice as she argues with her friend Joyce over a playful game of chess. Not only does she have the voice as loud as a football commentator, but she always wears the most ridiculous outfits.

Don’t get me wrong, my JoJo can pull off nearly any outfit. But while her other friends stick to boring neutral colours and matching sets, JoJo likes to shop and dress as if she’s a teenager in an experimental phase. Like today, she’s wearing an oversized pink cardigan with a green shirt underneath and a long black skirt with tiny, embroidered stars.

I have a strong witchy feeling that she can sense me before I even reach her as Joyce sulks, walking past me. I still don’t fully understand how my grandma is able to beat every single person she plays at chess. It’s one of her many secret talents which shehas yet to share with me. Joyce gets the blunt end of it every week though. Poor woman.

“Don’t feel bad for her, birdie. She’s too slow to keep up,” JoJo says before I get to her. I laugh a little at her playful meanness as I take a seat across from her in a chair that feels like a warm hug. I sink down onto the cushions, taking in my JoJo’s old but beautiful face. They say that black doesn’t crack and it’s so true. She sighs heavily, replacing the chess pieces to their starting positions. “How was school?”

I immediately smile at the question. She knows how much I love my classes and she’s one of the very few people who care. “It’s been going well. If you remember that assignment that I was telling you about. The one on genetic mutation?” She nods happily. I think she was more shocked than I was about what I found out during the research process. “Well, you’ll never guess what Rotford said about it.”

I thoroughly explained to her the contents of my essay and all the notes my teacher made. As much as constructive criticism hits me straight in the gut sometimes, I’d much rather have some sort of feedback that can help me improve rather than nothing at all. That combined with the positive comment she left has somehow altered my brain chemistry and I’ve been on a high since. My only problem now is to figure out when I’ll be able to help Connor with his… problem.

“And what about the girls? How are they?” JoJo asks once I’ve finished my rant. I used to think I annoyed her when I talked a lot about my friends and the things that make me happy. Not only have the nurses encouraged positive distractions, but she genuinely seems interested.

“They’re great. It’s the start of the semester so they’re still getting into the swing of things. You know what me and Nor are like. Parties are happening a lot more frequently now,” I say with a shrug.

“Oh, birdie. The things I would do to go to a college party again,” JoJo says wistfully. “Most of the parties were full of older people too. You don’t want to know the kind of stuff I got up to.”

“I can only imagine,” I say laughing. I’ve seen some videos of what parties are like in Jamaica. Apartyis hardly the right word. I thought the parties at the frats on campus were insane, but it’s nothing compared to the videos I’ve seen. They are fucking wild.

“Did you do that ritual you told me about? You called it stupid and ridiculous three times,” JoJo says.

“For someone who struggles with her memory, you always remember the weirdest things,” I mutter, toying with one of the pawns. My eyes meet her chocolate brown ones as she frowns.

“That’s only because you tell me the most insane things, Songbird,” she replies easily, a throaty chuckle leaving her. I remember telling her about the Manifestation Chamber during the first week of college. She laughed in my face then too. I also remember telling her it was the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of and no college horror story I heard in high school could have prepared me for such dipshittery.

“Yes, I did. And before you ask, no, I am not plotting or planning on falling in love with him any time soon,” I say sternly. JoJo is a romantic. Apparently it runs in the Johnsons’ blood. Since my mom passed, my stance on love in the real world has greatly fizzled out. I love to read about it and watch it, but in reality, it could never work. There are too many limiting factors, too many parts of myself that I am convinced are incapable of being loved.

“You said it’s worked before, no?” I nod stiffly and her whole face cracks into a deep grin. “But you don’t think it could work for you.”

“Iknowit won’t work for me. The people that are put in there clearly force a connection and trick themselves into believingthat they are the ones for each other. With Connor, it could never work. I’m his sister’s best friend, I know he doesn’t see me for any more than that,” I reply.

“You know I’ve always told you toknowand notthink,” she begins. She’s right. It’s one of the first life lessons she ever taught me. “What I haven’t told you, is how wonderful hope could be.”

I groan, throwing my head back. “Why would I hope for something that I don’t want?”

“You’re telling me you don’t want to find love, my songbird?”

“Yes,” I say certainly. “I know hope springs eternal or some bullshit, but the truth of the matter is you can do all the hoping and still not get what you want. You think I don’t wish for things that never come true? Because I do. I do it all the time. I have hope for better grades. I have hope that my dad might finally get his head out of the darkness and see what life could be like outside his work. I hope that my mom could give me some sort of sign, any indicator to show me that she’s still here, but none of it ever happens. It never works. There is literally zero hope in hoping when you’re not certain it’ll come true.”

The words rushed out of me like a tidal wave, leaving me heaving by the end. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve been thinking about it for the last few days or possibly the last few years. It’s been a topic for a journal that I keep in my room and for some reason I can never fully finish the thought. Sometimes it goes on for pages, or I write a sentence and the words can never come.

“That, my love…” JoJo sighs, locking eyes with me as she tells me what she’s thinking straight up. “Is the stupidest shit I’ve heard in my whole life.”

ELEVEN

CAT/CONNOR

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