JASPER

***

When Libby and I parted ways at class on Monday, something in me fucking snapped.

I had wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need her, that I would be fine without someone I'd grown to depend on, but that couldn't have been fucking farther from the truth.

Not being able to hold her in my arms like I had on Monday morning was the most difficult thing I'd had to endure since Benny's funeral. And I know that sounds fucking dramatic but it's fucking true.

When she said take a week, I thought it'd be fine. It's five days. No biggie. I've gone through three fucking years in hell, I can last a week. But no. It was horrible. I'm just fucking thankful that I only had the one class with her.

Monday was okay, because I'd held her in my arms and kissed her that morning. But by Monday afternoon I was already a mess. I felt like I was going through withdrawal symptoms, and I didn't even recognise myself by the end of the day.

Instead of going home that night, I just drove to the beach and slept in the bed of it under a blanket. I didn't want to go home because there may be things that already reminded me of her. The comforter and the bedding, even the fucking bed, would remind me of how she woke up me this morning trying to give me a hand job. I mean it was utterly ridiculous. This was literally fucking day three and it was getting into like... stalker behaviour or something. Ugh.

Anyway, day two I was a grumpy mess. An even more grumpy mess. I hadn't had a shower that morning because I hadn't been home, I was wearing yesterday's clothes and I was tired as fuck. And then I was just grabbing lunch or breakfast and in she fucking walks in. Her hair was wet from a shower, and she was wearing a massive t-shirt with a pair of long denim shorts, her sandals and she was laughing with two of her roommates. I stared at her while she got her food and I was just fucking shocked that she seemed so okay. She didn't even look at me, she didn't even acknowledge me. She was okay while I was a mess, and it fucking broke me.

I don't know what went through my head at that point. But I was furious. I smashed my fist into the table and got up in a flurry, surprising two preppy freshman on the table next to me. I legged it out of Wag, hoping she didn't see me in such a state. And even though all I wanted to do was run, I knew I couldn't miss any classes that day, so I spent the rest of my day in my car, avoiding her at all costs.

Ziggy found me at one point, saying he never heard back from me after Sunday. I lied and said I cracked my phone, but he didn't seem convinced. He said I looked like shit, which was fucking nice of him, but when I got home I looked at myself in the mirror and he was right. My eyes were red from tiredness, my clothes looked really creased and I absolutely stank. I had huge purple circles under my eyes and I knew I was in for another restless night.

***

Wednesday I went to class and sat with my back to her the whole time. We'd started reading this book by David Sedaris. Abrams was getting us to read certain passages out, but by the end of the class neither Libby nor I had been asked to. It meant either she or I would be called on on Friday, but I'd get to that day when I came to it. I didn't want to hear her voice. I didn't know what I'd do if I did. And I didn't want to be responsible for my actions.

I sacked off the rest of that day and picked up a large bottle of vodka. I drove down to the beach and just drank myself into a stupor, drowning my sorrows and my frustration. I probably looked like a crazy person, drinking by myself on the beach, but the alternative was killing me. The alternative of just accepting that I needed her and that I should go round there... but I wouldn't let myself because I needed to last these five days. We both needed the space. We'd agreed.

But there was no denying I missed her. I had no idea it was possible to miss someone this much. I missed her smile, I missed the way she scratches her nose or fiddles with her fingers when she's nervous, the small mole on her stomach and her giggle. Ugh, I shouldn't know these things after day three... day five. But they were things I missed. Her company, yes, her legs wrapped around mine, definitely. But those small things, fuck.

***

Thursday was a blow out. I'd passed out, blind drunk at like 2am, but I vaguely remember feeling the jostle of being moved at some point. When I woke, I was in bed but I was still clothed and I had a headache the size of Texas. I felt like someone had split my skull open like an egg and, as I threw up into my bin, I felt utterly awful. That day I didn't leave the house. I didn't leave my room. I don't even think I opened my eyes.

***

Friday I lost it. I was still a bit hungover but I couldn't miss my one opportunity to see her at closer quarters. It was all going fine until Abrams made her read. Her soft voice sent all kinds of feelings through me, and when Abrams called on me to read afterwards I just couldn't do it. I just glared at her, and then shot out of the classroom before anyone could try to stop me. I could see her watching me leave, shock covering her features, but I didn't look back. I just ran headlong for my truck, not able to breathe, and when I got into it I had a full blown panic attack.

I hadn't had one of those for years. I couldn't breathe properly, and I felt like I was going to throw up again. I got out of the truck and sat on the ground, my head between my legs, trying to stop the rising vomit that was making its way back up from yesterday's bender. That crushing feeling of horror was weighing down on me more than ever as I struggled to get my breath back and I didn't know when it would end. It felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach, winding me, and no matter what I tried, I just couldn't get it back.

I decided I needed to just keep away from college. I skipped the rest of my classes and went to the beach again. I parked the truck on the sand near the end of the dunes, where no one would bother me, and just sat in the bed with the flap down, watching the water. I was using the sound of the waves to calm me, and by the time I moved a muscle nearly two hours had passed. I felt a bit calmer, but I was still nowhere near okay.

I texted Ziggy when I got back into the truck, asking if he was around later, to which I got a single word back: Yeah. So I drove home and snuck in the back, knowing Mom would be fucked off at me missing more than half of classes.

My room backs onto the side of the house, so when I come in the door I am as quiet as possible and lock the door. I change my t-shirt and put on a pair of board shorts again, knowing Ziggy will most likely want to be at the beach, and check my room.

After a couple of minutes I hear someone trying to come in. I bunch my hands into fists and grit my teeth as I punch my bathroom door to close it.

"FUCK OFF!" I shout when the thumping continues. It's probably Mom, as she's the only person who's home.

She doesn't get the point but I ignore her. That is ignore her until a few bangs start to come from the door, along with the jiggling of the door handle. I try to keep ignoring it as I pack a bag, but when the bangs keep getting louder I've fucking had enough. What the fuck is wrong with Mom today?

"Fuck that," I say under my breath as I go into the bathroom.

I can still hear the banging, so once I've done my belt up, I storm over to the door and open it.

"FUCK O-" The words stick in my throat.

It's not Mom. It's Libby. She's flushed and she looks worried. I can see she wants to ask what the hell was going on with me, but she doesn't have the chance to say anything because I crash my lips to hers.

I pull her into my room and she spins, using my body to shut the door again, holding onto my collar. I groan at the contact but fuck does it feel good to be kissing her again. To hold her in my hands again. Fuck.

Her hands are pulling my hair and then stroking at my back and my chest, my hands are tangling into her hair and before we both know it we're on the bed.

I'm on top of her and she's trying to pull off my shirt as she grinds herself against my zipper, whimpering as I leave hot kisses against her neck. I can feel myself getting hard and the feeling brings me back for a second.

"Don't make me spend a week away from you again," I whisper against her neck, and I don't recognise my voice; I sound desperate.

I pull back and hold myself up above her. Her lips are already swollen from the power of my kisses, and her cheeks are pink and beautiful. Her eyes are searching mine, and she smiles as she shakes her head. And for the first time in five days, my heart lifts.

I roll off her and lie sideways, pulling her close to me. She tangles her legs with mine as she snuggles close, tucking her head into my chest, and sighing contentedly at the feeling of being back in my arms. Or at least hoped that was why. She fitted perfectly here, she belonged here, in my arms, and there was no way I was letting her go again.

***

We're quiet for a long time, but for some reason it doesn't feel strange, nor does it feel weird. We're just quiet, enjoying the comfort of each other after spending five fucking awful days apart. I'm smiling because she's tucked her head into my shoulder and I have my arm around her, stroking a hand down her back whilst she traces tiny patterns onto my chest.

I can tell she wants to ask about how my week's been, but if I'm being honest I don't want to talk about it or relive it.

Just seeing her, feeling her, has helped me. I'm completely zen, the feeling of calm washing over me as I use her as my beacon. My heart and my insides are no longer knotted and I feel stress free and normal, back to the way I was before we agreed to stay away from each other on Monday. Fuck me, was that a bad idea.

"You okay?" She finally asks. She's looking up at me and I keep my head up, looking at the ceiling.

I close my eyes and nod as I look up at the ceiling, then look down at her. "I am now."

Her eyes are full of innocence and hope. She's blinking up at me, and I love the way her eyes hold mine as she speaks to me. Their colour reminds me of the waves I was watching earlier, so I lean down slightly and kiss her forehead.

"You going to tell me about your week?" She's still looking at me but I shake my head as I change positions. Moving my arm from behind her head, I push down a little bit and rest my head on her stomach, playing with the hem of the teal UNCW t-shirt she's wearing. She giggles slightly, pushing her fingers through my hair, but doesn't push me for an answer.

She's about to ask another question when I feel her phone vibrating in her pocket. I move slightly to get it out for her and I accidentally look at the name before handing it to her. Rob.

My mood plummets again as she answers with a smile, but I don't say anything. I do move though. I move so I'm sitting with my legs over the side of the bed, and I'm a little surprised when I feel her lips touch my back as she sidles closer again.

"Oh yeah no, I've just been busy with classes to call that's all." She's laughing and I'm wondering who the hell this Rob even is. "Fun?" She asks, turning her head round my shoulder in a comedic way. "Yeah, I'm having fun." I smile briefly at her, my smile not quite fully there, before pushing up and heading into my bathroom.

I can feel her eyes follow me as she continues her conversation but I don't look back at her as I close the door, locking it behind me.

When I get in there, those lines I thought were disappearing are returning slowly, along with the horrible gnawing feeling at the bottom of my stomach. She's talking to a boy, probably an ex-boyfriend, proving that my feelings yet again are ridiculously stupid, small and basically insignificant. She doesn't feel the same as I do, and I'm slowly beginning to accept that.

***

I don't know how long I'm in here for, but long enough for her to come and find me.

"Jasper?" She knocks lightly and tries the door.

"One sec," I mumble to the door, still looking at my pale and god-awful reflection in the mirror. "Get a grip!" I say to myself quietly before smacking my hand down on the sink.

A couple of seconds later she knocks again so I open the door.

"What's wrong?" She asks. "What was that?"

"Nothing," I say sullenly as I walk past her. That boy ringing her was bothering me more than I wanted it to, and I was trying to control it but it wasn't working. So I just let it out, not wanting to keep my anger in anymore.

"So you've been ringing boys all week have you?" I shout it and she jumps backwards, frightened.

"Ja-" she tries to speak but I don't let her.

"No!" I shout, cutting her off. "I've been in fucking pieces this week and here you are talking to boys and acting as if nothing fucking happened. How?! Why?!" My voice is unrecognisable and I'm not surprised she's still backing away. But then her stance changes.

She crosses her arms, waiting for me to finish. She looks pissed. Fucking pissed and when tears come to her eyes I know I've gone and put my fucking foot in it.

"Jasper! You think this week was easy for me?" I vaguely nod and cross my own arms, if only for stopping me from punching my hand through a piece of drywall. It already fucking hurt from punching the sink.

"It wasn't. It was killing me. I saw you. I saw you on Tuesday - Tuesday - and I wanted so badly to go up to you." She's in tears but she's matching me shout for shout here. She's so much stronger than I ever gave her credit for.

"Why didn't you?!" I suddenly shout.

"I don't know. I was trying to prove something to myself. Prove something to us. That I didn't need you as much as I thought I did. But I was wrong."

I was about to come back with another comment but that sentence stopped me dead.

"Jasper, it's been just as hard for me. And it may look like I've had easy, but I haven't."

"Then who's Rob?!" I take a step forward, hoping to intimidate her, but she stands still, looking me dead in the eye, daring me to ask the question. So I do.

"Libby, who the fuck is he?" I yell it in her face but she stays where she is.

She shakes her head and pushes past me. If she won't admit it to me, then it means it's someone that means something.

She walks all the way to the door and then opens it, and I panic. No. No no no no. Jasper you prick, fix this! I scream it at myself, willing my legs to get moving her and follow her out the door.

She stops before she leaves fully and she turns to me.

"He's my brother, you arsehole." She screams it and then turns on her heel, slamming my door so hard I feel like the house shakes.

Fuck.