Jonah's Point of View
I kicked my soccer ball into the air and started to bounce it up and down on the heel of my foot. "Do I have to?" I asked, my eyes trained on the ball. After kicking it back into the air I switched my feet and started bouncing it up and down on the heel of my left foot. When I realized that she had yet to answer, I looked up and stared into the jade eyes of my girlfriend.
Lord, I still get a rush just thinking that.
"Remembrance?" I murmured, my Irish accent lilting the syllables of her name. A few weeks ago I learned that I could get out of almost anything just by saying her name. As long as I said it in a husky tone and with an exaggerated Irish accent. Slowly, I was learning the tricks of the trade. That and that women will be at your throat because of just about everything. I had her near tears last week because I didn't notice that she bought a new dress....and I may have called her fat. I'm not sure how I did that though, all I know is that one moment I was telling her she looked really nice in her new dress and the next she accused me of calling her fat.
I don't get women.
I don't get them at all.
"Why don't you want to answer the question?" She demanded, crossing her arms across her chest and jutting out a hip. I bit back a smile at the pose and took a deep breath before going back to warming up for soccer.
"Because you're just bringing up the fact because I haven't said the other."
"One or the other, Mills."
"I'd rather not, Pierce."
"Cad."
I rolled my eyes and kicked the ball across the field, "Here we go again." I muttered, smirking at her.
"Scoundrel."
"How's come we can't make it through a week without having some ridiculous fight?" I pondered aloud, staring down into her cold eyes.
"Rouge."
I frowned, "Have you noticed that all your insults have themes? I think this one would be a pirate theme..." I glanced off into space, "Yesterday it was barnyard animals, the day before that it was parts of the anatomy. Before that it was demon references."
"Fiend."
"Come on, Pierce!"
"Just answer one of my questions!"
I glared at her, "Why? Because you told me to?"
"Exactly!"
"I'm really not enjoying how you got most of the power in the relationship—so this is me taking a stand. I refuse to answer your questions."
Her eyes narrowed, "Jonah, do you know what I can do to you?"
I took a step back, remembering what happened last time she had uttered those words to me. I had found myself on my knees, my most tender of places throbbing. My own girlfriend had kneed me—was that even allowed? Lord, she can get violent. Granted she immediately apologized and spent the next few days catering to my every whim, but it still hurt.
A lot.
I think if guys can't hit girls, they shouldn't be allowed to hit us. I mean, I understand the occasionally slap or whatever, no man really minds those things. Women can't slap worth anything when it comes down to it. Moreover, even if they can, it strings for only a minute and then you're over it. So yeah, I can understand slapping men, but kneeing them? Giving them black eyes? Or how about the time she wailed on me and left me with an ice pack and a heating pad? Those things shouldn't be allowed.
"Look, Remembrance, I don't want to start another one of our legendary arguments. Especially not now—it's the summer, we just graduated from boarding school, can't we just enjoy the holiday? Hey, it's not every day I'm still in America after the end of term."
"You've been with Remmy and me at my uncle's house for the last month." She said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "You're here to stay."
"You don't know, I could just get on a plane to Ireland and spend the rest of my summer with my father."
"But you won't."
"And why won't I?" I asked.
"Because you're father is a horrible man and he treats you horribly, and you know if I heard that he had mistreated you in any way I would get a plane ticket to Ireland and let him have it. And since you have your male pride, I know you wouldn't like the fact that your girlfriend was fighting your battles for you—therefore, you're not going. Besides, you know I'd insist that you let me come with you right of that bat; I want to meet the great Sheridan Mills."
"Something is telling me that's not the best idea." I murmured to myself, internally smiling at how well she knew me. After almost eleven years of having no one know anything about me, it was pretty amazing how much attention Remembrance gave. She knew everything that I could possibly want to share with another human being, right down to the fact that Sleepless in Seattle is my favorite movie. Every time I have a rough day, she pops popcorn and puts the movie in and quotes all the memorable parts...
...Maybe it's just being with her, maybe that's it. Actually, that probably is the case—I love having her around. I love knowing that she cares about me. Heck, I love fighting with her. But I wouldn't love her coming to meet my father—for one, he would make me look like a pathetic wimp in front of her, and there is nothing appealing about my girlfriend seeing me that way.
"Look, Jonah, just answer one of the questions, or both, and then we can be done with this. I'll stop pestering you, you'll go back to playing soccer, and later we can go out to see a movie." She smiled and I frowned.
"I just have to give up my dignity and follow your rules, and then we can call a truce, huh? Why does that sound so emasculating?"
"Jonah!"
"Do I get to pick the restaurant and the movie? Because I really want to go back to that one by the pier, that place had the best egg rolls I have ever tasted."
She smiled, "Okay, we'll head there."
"And I get to pick the movie, right? Because I want to see the next Pirates of the Caribbean."
"Watching Orlando Bloom and Johnny Depp for an hour or so? Yeah, I'm totally into that."
I stared at her for a moment, "A lesser man would feel a little self-conscious after a statement like that..."
She grinned and walked up to me, draping her hands across my shoulders, "But not you, right? You know I love your accent, your artwork, your eyes..." She trailed off, almost seemingly ready to launch off into a long list of my qualities.
"...Me?" I asked, staring into her eyes.
Her smile was slow to spread across her face, but once it was in place I felt as though someone had lit up my world. Her smile does that to me; it makes me feel completely whole and...like I'm home...okay, perhaps not my home, but maybe my cousin Mariah's home. A place that feels warm, perfect, and comforting. "I thought that was what this was all about." She whispered.
"Do you?" I asked, my hands holding either side of her waist and tugging her towards me.
She laughed and then brushed her black hair out of her eyes, "I do, I really do love you." She said softly, laughter still in her eyes. "I love everything about you Jonah, every single quality, every quirk, and how these things can sometimes annoy the heck out of me. I love it all, because I love you." She whispered, leaning against me. She stood up on her tippy-toes and kissed me lightly on the mouth. I responded, taking the kiss to a deeper level and when I stepped away from her, her lips looked a little red. She lightly touched them and then smiled, "I guess that makes you happy."
"I love you, I really do." I declared and then swallowed hard, "Whoa, that's kind of weird to say. I love you. I love you." I shook my head and rubbed at my throat, "I love you....I guess it gets easier."
She swatted my arm, "You're such a guy!"
I raised an eyebrow, "Wouldn't that be a good thing?"
Her eyes narrowed, "Are you trying to start something?"
I laughed and shook my head, "No, never. Me? Try to start a fight with you? Gee, Pierce, everyone knows how great you are with the comebacks." She swatted at me again, but I side stepped her, laughing. "Cad! Scoundrel! Rogue!" I cried in a overly dramatic tone, dancing away from her hand.
"Quit making fun of me!" She whined, chasing me around the field. Still laughing, I averted her every swing and managed to keep a few feet ahead of her at all times. She looked like she was getting really frustrated when she finally gave up and stretched out on her back, staring up at the afternoon sky. Smiling, I stretched out beside her, than took her hand and interlaced our fingers.
"It wasn't that big a deal then, was it?" I asked, staring up at a puffy white cloud that looked a bit like Elvis.
She glanced over at me, "The exchange of those three little words?" She asked and after a beat shook her head, "No, not that big a deal at all."
"I kind of knew that you loved me."
"I've known you've loved me for a very long time. Ever since we started dating, to tell the truth."
"Really? How?"
She smiled, "You sometimes talk in your sleep."
I rolled my eyes, "Poor Chris."
"He was a really nice guy...what was his story?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. He didn't talk about himself a lot, but he seemed really happy."
"Do you think he came from a psychotic family, where the father was a serial killer?"
"Um...I kind of thought he came from a nice family."
"Or perhaps something traumatic happened in his childhood and that explains the insomnia."
"...Maybe a bit of a crazy family, a mentally unstable family, but nice nonetheless." I went on, attempting to ignore her.
"I guess you'll figure out next year." She said with a sigh, "I still can't believe that you pulled so many strings just to get him to be your dorm mate for the next four years of your life."
"I like him."
"I know, so do I, I just thought you might want to meet new people."
"Well, yeah...but I don't want to live with anyone new. I just got used to his weird tendencies before we graduated. Believe me that's a lot of adjusting. Besides, I have yet to figure out why he sometimes wakes me up through song."
"I believe you about the adjusting thing." She whispered and then yawned, "You didn't answer my other question by the way."
"I thought you said I only had to answer one."
"I take it back."
I chuckled and then cleared my throat, "Alright, but if I answer you have to pose for me."
"In the buff?"
I grinned wickedly, "Perhaps."
"Fine, I agree, just answer."
I yawned and tightened my grip on her hand, "Harken and Moira. If I had a little boy and a girl, I would name them Harken and Moira."
"Moira...I like that, I could live with that." She whispered, "Moira Jeannette and Harken Fredrickson."
I laughed, "Already planning their births?"
"Depends on how long you're going to fight to stay with me." She whispered in return of my question.
"I'll fight for you, always."
She grinned, "I had a feeling you'd say that."
"Really? Did you now?" I asked, poking her in the side of the stomach, causing her to squeal in surprise. "Did you know I was going to say that?" I asked, continuing to poke her in her somewhat ticklish places. She laughed outright and her laugh caused me to stop and smile down at her.
"Are you trying to get me to propose to propose to you?" I asked softly.
"I'm barely eighteen, how do you expect me to think that far ahead?"
"You're naming our children."
"Okay, so it didn't take that long to skip ahead."
I smiled and laid back down beside her, "Remembrance, just because I'm going to Oxford in the fall doesn't mean that you have to freak out like this." I turned to look at her, "I'm not going to do anything unfaithful or stupid."
She nodded and licked her lips, "But what if the romance dies? What if you don't love me anymore? What if you look at some Oxford girl and decide you like her better than me?"
I propped myself up with an elbow, "Are you kidding me?" I asked in expiration and then sighed, "What if the same thing happens to you and a Harvard guy?"
"Please, like anyone else would give me a sketchbook full of drawings like you did. Like anyone else would listen to me the way you do. Like anyone could possibly make me feel the way that you do." She shook her head, "Nope, no Harvard guy is going to cut it out for me."
"Then you should trust that no Oxford girl will do it for me, either."
"Why? What grand romantic thing have I done for you?"
"You've been with me, Pierce. You were with me while I worked out everything with my parents—you were with me when I finally learned how to breath again." I smiled softly, "It's because of you that I'm not having the nightmare every night anymore."
She blushed, "Who would've known that you just needed someone to sleep beside you?" She asked to no one in particular.
"Not just anyone, Pierce. You." I stared down into her eyes and then cleared my throat, "Pierce, I'm doing so much better because of you. I'm feeling so much better because of you. No other girl could do it for me, because I already know that there isn't any other girl like you." I ran my hand along her jawline and swallowed hard, "That's the only good thing that came out of dating practically every girl at Oak Waters Academy."
She ducked her head, "Really?"
"Remembrance, you can trust me to the ends of the earth, alright? Because I only want to be with you, no one else here can do anything for me."
When she brought her head up, I noticed that her eyes were wet. When tears began to flow down them, I went to work at wiping them away with my thumbs. "You liar." She whispered, "You're great with your words."
I smiled, "I'm just being honest."
She nodded and took a deep breath, "If this were a competition, you won."
"Huh?"
"With reasons to stay together."
I laughed, "Well, I've always liked to be a winner."
Her breath caught on a sob and I pulled her into a hug, "I need you, Mills." She whispered against my shoulder, "I honestly do. And you know how I hate to be the needy type."
"Yeah." I said in a breath.
"So you don't have to worry about anything happening next year, or the years following. Except maybe me showing up at you doorstep."
"To tell the truth, I wasn't really worried."
She pushed herself away from me and glared, "Why not? Don't think I could get the attention of another man?"
Crap. I said something wrong again. God, this relationship thing should come with a rule book. Moreover, while I'm on the topic: what is up with women and picking fights? Men don't do this—not unless we feel guilty for something anyways... Women will start one over just about anything. I'm probably being sexist, but my Lord—I need to get a handbook just to know what to say to Remembrance when she gets into one of her moods.
"I could get the attention of any man!" My girlfriend declared while I stared at her with a raised brow. "In fact, I'm going to go get me a man."
"What?"
She jumped to her feet and started across the field, "That'll show you."
"Remembrance, don't you think you should think about this?" I asked, jogging after her.
"Are you trying to tell me that I'm going to be disappointed, Jonah?" She demanded, "That no man will look at me twice? Trying to say that I can't, in fact, get a man?"
"Come on, Remembrance!" I called out to her, "You got me!"
"That's it—you can come and watch."
"Watch someone pick up my girlfriend?"
"Exactly!"
"How on earth is that enjoyable to me?"
She shot me a death glare, "Who said you were supposed to enjoy it?" She asked coldly and then took off running.
I frowned and followed after her, "You still love me, right?" I called out from behind her, quickly gaining on her.
"Of course I still love you! You moron!"
"And no other guy is going to do it for you?"
"What's with the questions? Of course no other guy is going to do it for me!"
I raised my arms in confusion, but kept up with her. "Okay..."
"Okay, then. You're going to watch the men flock to me!"
"Oh, God." I muttered. There is something seriously weird about this relationship, something seriously weird. However, if she loves and wants me, I guess I should just go along for the ride. If nothing else, it's entertaining.
And if anyone comes near the woman I love and tries to ask her out for a night in the town, they're going to have to answer to me.
...Maybe after she gets to do her victory dance.
A/N: Not exactly your traditional epilogue, huh? I didn't want it to be too cheesy or fluffy, I kind of wanted to show what they're relationship is like. And the relationship isn't all about staring up into the setting sun and kissing each other or anything like that. Theirs actually has a lot of fights in it, a lot of bickering, usage of a lot of pathetic insults, and tons of making up. I love it. I'm going to miss it.
I decided to not do a sequel, mostly because sequels aren't usually better than the original or near as good, and I don't want to take anything away from these two. I don't want to cheapen the relationship and you guys are right; fixing everything wouldn't be that great. Then there's nothing left to the imagination, and that's one of the fun parts about finishing a romance story—getting to daydream about what the couple's future will be like. And just because I'm the one writing the romance, doesn't mean that I should put my daydreams into words and ruin it for other people. So yeah, there won't be a sequel, but you will hear about Jonah and Remembrance as well as Remington and Elliott in Chris' story. Because I'm definitely writing that, he's story needs to be told. I just need to figure out what's going to happen, because right now I've been working on his character.
Wow...I don't exactly know how to end this. I'd like to thank each and everyone of you, but I lost count after practically a hundred reviewers for the last chapter. I've read each and everyone and I've loved all the words that you guys had to say. How you all seem to think I have talent, that's great to hear, you know? Maybe at this rate I can become one of the big headed writers...actually, probably not. My grammar isn't that great—but I'm working through a grammar book that I bought just because of that, so I hope to fix things in the future.
My God. I don't want to end this. I honestly don't want to. This is almost worse than when I ended The Matchmaker's Best Friend... Thank you all for understanding how this feels, by the way. It was great to know that there are people out there that can relate with me. None of my friends are actually writers...well, I'm friends with a lot of poets, but that's not the same thing. Not that I'm ragging on poems (I'm a published poet), it just...they end rather quickly. This story has been a part of my life for for three years, Jonah and Remembrance were created in my English class my sophomore year and now they're ending. I'm not even in my English class right now, but still it's my senior year. For most of my high school career they've been with me. It's kind of sad, I'm ending high school and them.
Can I put a damper on things or what?
Must be the music I've been listening to lately... Anyways, I guess I'll now put my efforts into Thatcher and Nadine's story, my newest baby's story (Javier), and the three ones that are going around in my mind and may be posted soon. How would you guys like to read a story that involves a crazy family (my usual), a heartbroken guy, and an eighty year old stalker? Or how about a story about a guy that lost his girlfriend and is fighting to get her back, overcoming every obstacle along the way? Or a story about an insomniac that is searching for that one good night of sleep?
Just a question.
Thank you all for reading and sticking with me throughout this. Thank you all for your kind words. Thank you all for being the only people that have really ever read what I've written. Thank you all for...just, thank you all.
I hope you all enjoyed the ride. The laughs, the crying, and the emotionally heart wrenching—because I've enjoyed being able to give it to you. Through the highs and the lows, I've loved these characters and your reviews. So, thank you again. Thank you, each and everyone one of you.
Thank you.
-:Secretive:-
Theme song of this chapter: my absolute favorite song, "Yellow" by Coldplay. (Actually, I've listened to three different versions while writing this chapter; the original version, the acoustic version, and the piano version—I didn't listen to my bluegrass version...maybe I should listen to it while I do the read through...)