Soundtrack
Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the YearâFall Out Boy
I'm Not OkayâMy Chemical Romance
Smile in Your SleepâSilverstein
1
Jack
Jack hates running. Who in their right mind would enjoy such bullshit?
Mia. Mia Clarke loves that brand of self-torture as much as she loves the brand of self-torture that includes destructive, dangerous boys she thinks she can save, boys like Jack Moreno.
Her calendar was still in hisâtheirâapartment, and she was signed up for some race-run-walk bullshit at the end of the month, so Jack signed up, too. She knew how much he hated running; she knew how hard it would be for him. This had to show her that Jack was trying for, or at least thinking of, her.
To be fair, the first month of their separation didn't bother Jack all that much. They needed the break; she was nagging the absolute fuck out of him, and he really didn't give two shits about anything, which was exactly what he told her as she threw her clothes in the ancient duffel bag he used to use to smuggle alcohol into parties as she told him for the thousandth time that she couldn't do it anymore. Month two was when Jack realized that his life was quickly going to hell without her and that she had been the only thing keeping him afloat; he was willing to admit it was a lesson he somehow managed to forget every time they broke up, and this was the third time in two years.
Mia did everything for them when they were together, put in all the effort, and Jack just seemed to coast along; she was stable while he was desperate for something to latch on to, for while Mia was willing to give Jack everything, Jack wanted to learn how to love someone with all he had, but all he had was next to nothing.
***
Jack really had planned on calling her that week before fate intervened. It seemed insane to have to plan a phone call with someone he'd been with for two years (give or take a few weeks from their splits), but that was where they were. Jack was going to see if she wanted to meet up and talk, see where they stood. There were things he had to talk to her about, things that she'd eventually find out ifâwhenâthey got back together and it would have been far better for her to hear them from him than one of their friends or, God forbid, her brother.
As Jack finished up mile two of that morning's run, he panted with exhaustion, sweat dripping into his eyes, and he cursed himself for not having brought a water bottle. But, like most problems in his life, Jack knew he could find an easy out. There was some new cafe down the block from him, Bean and Some Shit, so he spent his cool-down walking there to grab something to drink. The moment it was in full view, Jack knew Mia would like it; she would think a place like Bean and Some Shit was so cute. Maybe she'd be willing to see him if he suggested they met up there.
The sign on the door read Bean and Brew (though Jack would never call it that), and a little bell announced his presence to the whole staff and lot of patrons when he stepped inside. But there wasn't a single one of them who caught his attention. As if his eyes were drawn to hers by some force more powerful than either of them, Jack drank Mia in as she stared, unblinkingly, at his presence.
There he was, a sweaty fucking mess, and there she was, a cotton-candy blue sundress hanging on her body as if it were stitched by angels just for her. Time took a backseat and let them have a moment where no one else existed. No one else except some shiny-faced jack-off sitting across from her. Jack ground his teeth, fingernails dug into his palms, and his pupils dilated (which he'd claim was for Mia rather than the prospect of beating the shit out of the guy she was with).
Mia was up in an instant as Jack turned course to make his way to her.
"Not in here."
Her eyes were pleading with his; he wished she'd put her hands on him, begged for her to press her palms against his chest, forcibly remove him from the premises, but her eyes just stayed locked on his.
"Please." It had the effect of a nearly soundless whisper, leaving both of them breathless.
The last time Mia's eyes looked like that was the night she left, and Jack couldn't deny her again, regardless of how desperately he wanted to tell her counterpart to fuck right off. With a turn of his heel, Jack walked back out of the cafe, fists still clenched, jaw still tight, and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck at attention. He rubbed at his upper arm involuntarily.
But it didn't help; whatever composure he thought he'd worked up immediately slipped away the second they were alone. "We're on a break, Mia. A break." How could she possibly be out with someone?
"We've been on a break for over two months. I haven't seen you since the night I left." Her voice faltered a bit at the end; no one else would have noticed it save him.
"Because we're on a break. I thought we both understood that this was something temporary, something that would eventually end." Jack was trying to keep his focus on her eyes, but all he could do was stare at the exposed parts of herâher sun kissed shoulders, the smattering of freckles on her collarbone, the lipstick that was still perfectly applied on her mouth. Thank fuck she hasn't kissed him.
"Don't do that, Jack."
He snapped his gaze back up to her eyes, though Mia hadn't been talking about his wandering glare.
"It's been weeks since you returned one of my calls or texts. What was I supposed to think, to feel? You didn't even try." There it was again, that slight faltering.
Jack was willing to admit that she was right, though. She was always right. But she also always came back, and he needed to make sure whoever she had been with in the cafe wasn't going to get in the way of that; he had too much to prove, and time was slipping away from him like dandelions in the wind.
"Who's that fucker?" Jack nodded his head back in the direction of the Bean and Some Shit.
She threw her hands up in frustration. "Right. Ignore the real issue and bulldoze over my feelings. Invalidate everything I say or feel."
"Mia, look, maybe this is a sign, like that astrology shit you have on your phone. Or that song by that British guy. A sign it's time for us to get back together, to try again. Weâ"
Mia rolled her eyes. "You know what astrology is and you damn well know who Harry Styles is. Stop trying to be cool."
"Isn't that why we're together? Because I'm cool?"
"We're not together, Jack. We haven't been together for two months." Something in her eyes changed, and a small fire swallowed up the kindling in them. "Oh my God. You knew I'd be here."
Jack's head shook with confusion. "How the fuck would I have known you were going to be here? Surely, if I had even a shred of a clue that I was going to run into you on a daâ" something in him seethed, "if I thought I was going to run into you, I wouldn't have stopped in to get a drink."
She paused a moment, really looking at him for the first time, and her thick brows came together on her forehead. "Why are you so sweaty? It's not that hot out."
Jack didn't respond. Mia looked him up and down again.
"Were you running?"
"Yes."
"You don't run."
"I do now." Jack looked down at his feet.
"In All Stars?"
Jack just shrugged.
"Why?"
"Because you run."
"Jackâ"
It was his turn to lose his patience, and he raised his arms in frustration and set his hands on top of the sweaty mop of hair on his head, causing the sleeves of his t-shirt to gather at his shoulders; Mia's eyes rested on the clear patch on Jack's right arm.
And her voice instantly lost all of its edge. "That's new."
Jack dropped his arms, covering the patch once again. "Yeah well, it's not really working right now." He rubbed at the patch. He wanted a smoke more than anything else. Lie. Not more than he wanted her.
"Your lungs can handle a run?"
He rolled his eyes at her. "Jesus Christ, Mia. It's not like I smoked a pack a day. Besides, I never said I ran all that fast." That tingling feeling was building in his chest, but it had nothing to do with the nicotine withdrawal. She was standing right there, so close to him; he just needed her to reach out and touch him. One hit.
"I've been asking you to quit since we got serious. That was almost two years ago." Her eyes refused to meet his.
"I know. I'm trying, Mia. Can't you see that?" How do you show someone you love them when you hardly know what it even means to care about something, someone that deeply?
She shook her head, still staring at her feet. "How's your mom?" She finally looked back up at him, her eyes, ones that reminded him of the dulce de leche his dad always poured on his ice cream, pouring into his.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. "The same."
"Oh."
He screwed his eyes shut for a moment; it wasn't the right time, and he wasn't used to groveling, but he didn't think he could stand another night without her beside him. "Please come home."
Jack noticed the glaze building in her eyes before she realized it was there. She was trying so hard to work against everything she felt, and, truthfully, Jack couldn't blame her. "It's insanity. Nothing ever changes. We fall apart every time."
"Just consider it. Please? Will you do that? I agree that we needed to take this break, and even the ones before this, but, can't we try just one more time? One last time." Jack stared into her eyes, hoping beyond hope that she'd take his hand and walk away with him. But Jack knew that he had a better chance of falling through a sinkhole standing there on that sidewalk than her touching him.
Her mind was working on something, and suddenly Jack's insides grew hot, and he rubbed at the patch once again out of nerves.
"Have you been with anyone since I left?" she asked.
That fresh heat then built in his face, for he realized someone told her, and she was giving him the opportunity to tell her the truth, but thisâthis wasn't the way the conversation was supposed to go; this wasn't how he rehearsed it. "No. Well, IâMiaâwaitâ"
"I have to go." She turned from him, but he couldn't let her leave, not like that. He couldn't leave her mind to create its own details, so he reached out and grabbed for her hand, but she yanked it out of his hold almost instantly. It didn't matter though; feeling the softness of her skin for the first time in two months gave his brain the jolt it needed.
"You're here on a date. How is that any different?" It couldn't be more different.
She shook her head at him. "I haven't slept with anyone. You know I would never do that to you."
Of course he knew that. Jack has had people tell him she was too good for him for the past two years; at some point, it became easier to start believing what everyone told him; it made the expectations for him even lowerâfor her, unreachable. No way in hell would she have fucked someone before completely breaking it off with him, and he knew that, and it was the only way he could sleep at night.
When he found that he could no longer look her in the eyes, something in him told him that any more dishonesty towards her would only kill whatever sliver of a chance he had to get her to come home.
"I don't want to lie to you."
She scoffed. "Better late than never, right?"
"It meant nothing, Mia. Nothing. We didn't even have sex; we only...listen, Adam brought someone to a party and I was angry and trying to forget andâ"
"Trying to forget about me?"
Fuck. "That's not what I meant. I...I was never with someone else while we were together. You know that. I know you do. You were the one who suggested this break in the first place. What was I supposed to feel? Happy? Happy that you didn't want to be with me anymore?"
Mia squared her shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes; intimidating as she wanted to be, Jack could still see his gentle Mia standing before him. "Didn't want to be with you anymore? That's exactly the opposite of why I wanted this, Jack. You're an adult, and it's time you started acting like one. You always assume I'm going to be around, that I'll always be waiting for you. I wanted to see who you were without me. I wanted to see you take care of yourself. I love you, Jack. I really do, but you refuse to take your life into your own hands."
How could he stop her when she couldn't have been more right? As she stepped back into the cafe, Jack let her voice play on repeat in his head: "I love you, Jack. I really do." That was all he needed.
***
Jack walked home without the water, and when he got there, he ripped the patch from his arm, unlocked his car, and pulled a cigarette from the pack in the glove box.
Just one. Just one to take the edge off, then he'd be back to running the next morning. For her.
A/N: WE'RE BACK.
If you didn't know, this is a revamp of a story I started and never finished a few years ago. One of the biggest changes is that we're in third person narration now, which I've found I love writing in.
Is this story sometimes going to fall into the trope of the grumpy one is soft for the 𥺠one? Absolutely.
Please, please, please tap that star to vote and comment and share this story with your friends (that is, if you like it). Little things like that help authors like me so much. And, hey, if this isn't your cup of tea, I've got five other books you can check out on my profile (your support means the world; thank you, endlessly) âï¸
Take care,
L
Current Read: Us Against You by Fredrik Backman (sequel to Beartown, which is also amazing) ((future L here: the sequel was amazing. Both books are incredible. Please read them and talk to me about them.))