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Be Kind to Jaded Souls
When Ike is almost twelve years old, he stitches together a few personal mantras into what would become known to him in the deepest depths of his mind as the "The Big Three," or the trio of unbreakable commandments he would spend the rest of his life following.
It's a concept that would probably baffle the peanut sized brain of his freckled roommate, that Ike, the resident rule breaker, has certain laws that even he won't bend.
He doesn't break them. Ever.
(But that wouldn't be much of a story, would it?)
1. Never under any circumstances stay with anyone for a third night in a row. Never let them stay for a third night. That's when they get comfortable. That's when they get clingy, and being insecure is about as much of a turn on as wrinkles and deep discussions about intimate feelings. Ike silently agrees that he will enforce the third night rule regardless of how hot the girl is. Taffeta Brown, who was not a stripper, although her name might lead you to believe that, was a solid nine point four on Ike's scale. Her family didn't speak much English, but from what Ike could gather, her father was a lumber tycoon who made his money in the valleys of the rainforest. Their week long stay in New York ended on a sour note when Ike kicked Taffeta out of his bed solely because Ike does not under any circumstances snuggle. He never even hugged his teddy bear. It's just not even in his vocabulary. Although he enjoyed their two days, he knew their time was drawing to a close, he considered mailing a post card to Spain for her. By the next week, Ike barely remembered her name. When he was fifteen there was a coke whore Ike thought he loved, and he showed up at her door for the third night in the row. She didn't understand that his scarf was more then a fashion statement and that romantic love was a conspiracy invented by Nicholas Sparks to sell more books. She wanted more, and he wanted to get out of her dingy apartment. Ike beat his head as he wondered why he thought it was ever a good idea to go there in the first place. The rules are there for a reason.
Jade thinks she's being quiet when she creeps halfway into the room, after the guards have already finished their rounds for the night, and a complacent silence has settled over the Academy. Well, silent except for the soft hum of Hunter's snoring, the kind that indicates he's actually deep asleep, not at an AV club meeting or taking a power nap before a heading to the library to "help" Casey study.
Ike doesn't sleep. He's always been restless and reckless and sleeping has never come easily to him as most things do. His mind is always bombarding him with too many thoughts to quiet down enough to fall asleep. If he does manage to dose off, the nightmares will keep him up for the next few days. (Leathery snakes, and his father's kneeling form. and Jade in a hundred different lifetimes, broken and brilliant in all of them. They never have happy endings. They never get to have a real ending, at all actually.) But as he does with most aspects of his life, Ike will just continue to forge on like the strong yet tortured soul he is.
Back to the point. Jade thinks she's able to cross the room, through the piles of dirty laundry and scattered stacks of papers, without anyone hearing her. Years of sneaking across old creaky farmhouse floors finally comes in handy. The boys never close the door all the way, and she wanders in when she's sure they're all fast asleep.
Ike has perfected his sleeping pose, which casually flaunts his best features while still seeming casual and believable. He waits for her to climb the ladder to his top bunk in her neon socks. Ike doesn't open his eyes, ever dedicated to the performance, but he is able to get a pretty clear picture from the rest of his senses. Jade's uneven breathing is the result of her incurable crying spurts. Maybe Zoe decided she really needs her beauty sleep tonight and kicked Jade out with a final wave of her manicured hand. Maybe the fourth roommate, who Ike refuses to refer to by name, for fear that she'll appear like Bloody Mary in the mirror, pulled out her favorite knife and went all stab crazy on them again.
Or possibly- and this option is the most terrifying of them all- maybe Jade doesn't have to be here.
Maybe she wants to.
She's practiced at slipping under the covers without really lifting them, and a mess of red hair suffocates his face as Jade lays her head on the pillow. She feels hollow but she radiates warmth.
Ike carefully opens one of his eyes, and pretends to roll over so that his arm is tossed haphazardly around her. It's a bold move. Maybe too bold, so he then lets out an obnoxious snore right in her ear just to quiet any of her suspicions.
Jade's legs kick in her sleep, like she's desperately running away from something torturing her inside her head. Ike wonders what demons she's trying to escape. Her head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, and the weight of the world weighs heavily on Ike's eyelids. He doesn't remember falling asleep.
By the time he's ready to roll out of bed in the morning, Jade is long gone. In fact, there's barely any sign that she was ever there in the first place, no indentation in the mattress, no note left saying goodbye, and Ike knows the only redhead he'll see when he opens his eyes is Hunter.
Ike thinks there's a faint trace of cinnamon still lingering in the air, and maybe his hand is numb because she squeezed it all night. Maybe.
It isn't until he sees Casey and Jade picking at granola bars in the cafeteria that the puzzle pieces fall into place, hitting Ike like a bullet in the chest. The redhead has spent almost every night this week curled up next to him.
The realization is enough to make him want to relive the day in the library and empty the contents of his stomach into the nearest garbage can where he's sure Hunter will be living in after graduation.
He looks in absolute horror across the room and something he can't hear causes the redhead to start laughing, and Jade smacks her hand on the lunch table and smiles brightly. He has the strongest and most disgusting urge to kiss her.
Ike immediate locates the nearest cheerleader with a low cut blouse and leads her down to the supply closet which has an access code he memorized. In a few hours Jane or whatever her name is won't even be a blip on his mind.
(Before Ike lays down in his bunk, he unlocks the door to the hallway, hovering slightly as he leaves it a crack open. What? There could be a fire and they may have to quickly escape. Or maybe that Ukrainian chick will come back and put them all out of their misery. Or maybe he doesn't mind having someone there to drive his nightmares away.)
2. Drink until you don't remember why you started drinking in the first place. It's Ike's go to strategy to deal with his daddy issues and seeing his friends use cosmic powers to shift reality. If you don't like something you feel, bury it deep down where nobody can dig it up and pour another drink to wash it down. By the time Ike was seven he could spell 'pretentious,' aloud and he had already decided that he was special. When he's thirteen, his mother informs him that he's not special, he was a mistake, and she and the gardener, Raul, would be taking a weekend trip. He lights a match off the wall and incinerates the leather bound bible his father, scratch that, Abraham gave him, using good-ole Abe's favorite whiskey as an accelerant. Ike learns that alcohol is always there for him, even when everyone else isn't.
If there's one thing Ike has leaned at the Academy, it's this: life goes on. His classmates die every other day, and he barely had time to learn their names. Abraham once told him, that the world doesn't slow down for anyone. Not even for Ike.
But his arms are tied and bound to a stone slab in the basement, and the ceremonial knife cutting his neck is vaguely familiar in all the wrong ways. His feet dangle above the ground and he aches to feel something solid under his feet. Time does slow down for a few seconds, which stretch on like an eternity. He thinks of all things he didn't get to do, and all the sarcastic remakes he still hasn't gotten to say. Sure, Ike talks a good game about living fearlessly, but he's not ready to die yet. He still hasn't made out with Casey Blevins and he sure as hell isn't going to die in the Academy, and give Gribbs the satisfaction.
Ike feels blood start pouring down his neck and he's sure he's going to die. He does in fact come close, too close for comfort. Casey remarks that he should have had more faith in them as Hunter is busy trying to cut him loose, and Jade is shaking so hard that she can barely keep pressure on his wound. His vision goes black and his neck is spurting blood like a geyser, and this is not how he wants to go out. Jade keeps shouting at him and whimpering something that could pass as a prayer, and she doesn't talk to Ike for a week after the incident.
When everyone goes to study in the library, Jade hovers outside his room for most of the night. He doesn't know why she sits out there for so long, or why she never knocks. She'll never come in as long as she thinks he's awake.
Jade mostly pulls a vanishing act during the day, working on small projects projects with Casey, and actively scheming to get out of gym class. But Jade screamed so loudly that night that she loses her voice for a while. Being the sugar addicted girl that she is, Jade consoles herself with a dozen bottles of soda and strings of licorice. Ike doesn't pull anything stupid like going into the hall and checking on her, but he keeps his liquor drawer fully stocked and his glass is never empty for very long.
They don't talk about their feelings. That's for Casey and Hunter and the rom-com thing they have going. That's another thing Ike has learned: it's best to just bottle things up until you explode. He likes it better when he and Jade are fighting. At least when they're screaming insults at each other they're accomplishing something. Jade is one of the few people that can stand toe to toe with him in a battle of wits and keep him intrigued. If they could have ten minutes to taunt each other this awkward faze would end a lot faster. It's not his fault he almost died. It's one of the hazards of going to school at MGA. Jade more than anyone should know that.
The point is, after four days of silence and scratchy throats, the four of them have a dinner of grilled cheeses together and Jade's nails are freshly painted black again. For once, Ike doesn't wear a scarf because he wants them all to see the jagged scar on his throat, and Casey eats her sandwich with two hands in the most disturbing fashion.
Jade is always referring to the Glories as a symphony, and if he listens closely, Ike can hear that the rhythm has been disrupted. A choir doesn't work when your members are being buried every other week. He remembers Zoe's bronze eyes and wonders if her body has totally rotted already, or if her lips are still pressed in a sneer. They dug the grave for Jun near the apple tree on Hunter's request. Ike would have put Ian next to Akiko if he hadn't been evaporated into thin air by the cylinder.
Ike wonders if they have a spot picked out for him, in the case of, well- you know. Casey probably has it hidden somewhere in her binder. He tries not to dwell on it.
For the first time in two weeks, Ike isn't buzzed or drunk. Jade wears scarlet colored lipstick to match her hair, and floppy sun hats to shield her eyes. She laces up her black leather boots like she's preparing for battle, and she never tells her friends about the broken windshields, or the little silver streaks in the sky, or the guilt in her gut.
"I guess I just wanted to say I'm glad you didn't let me die or whatever." He tells Jade when he finds her smoking on the roof with his sunglasses perched on her head. He stumbled upon her sitting on the edge of the roof with her legs dangling off and a cigarette poised between her fingers. It's not like he was looking for her anything. That'd be lame. But there's nothing to do on Sundays and she's always easy for him to find.
Jade looks away as if he's nothing more than a fleeting thought in her head. He can't tell if she's fighting back tears or smile.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't give up so easily, or whatever." She smirks and lets out a puff of smoke into the night sky.
"I really miss my mom sometimes." She adds as an afterthought, and Ike feels like it's a test, "You would hate the farm where I grew up."'
"You're right. I'm simply not equipped to deal with the vigorous and physical lifestyle of farmers. Too much manure if you ask me."
He wonders how long they'll avoid the real conversation they actually need to be having. Ike is sure he can deflect for at least another month, so that should buy him sometime to sort things out. Then he ponders how Jade is able to balance on the rooftop so easily, and he feels like she's waiting for him to say something.
"I doubt my mother misses me. Without me around, maybe they'll let her back into Martha's Vineyard." There's a good chance Ike will die in this godforsaken place, but at least his mother will be able to sip sour wine with her book club friends once again.
There's more silence, and neither of them rush to fill it. Jade lets out a disappointed sigh that communicates more than a billboard could.
"If you insist on prying, I suppose I do miss Coney Island occasionally. Abraham took me to the boardwalk there once when I was a just a boy and they had the best cotton candy."
Jade's face lights up and she finally acknowledges his existence, a tactic that worked far more successfully than she realized.
"Tell me about it." Her eyes are bright and engaged like a child waiting for a bedtime story.
He does.
3. The only friend Ike needs is Jack Daniels. He doesn't need anyone besides himself. When his father abandoned him on the pier, Ike was able to find his way home on the subway with no problems. In every situation, he's able to leverage and look out for himself. That's rule number three. He doesn't need anyone but himself.
Every time Ike manages to drag in another tired breath, his lungs burn in protest at not having enough air. Something in the back of his throat pulses in warning, reminding him about things called 'boundaries' and 'reason' and how he's pushed far past them both. His legs ache and pain swirls inside his limbs, screaming along with the rest of his body for a break from all the running. He doesn't let up though, and follows down the jagged forest path.
Running is utterly useless. It's not like he'll be able to do something if he gets there a little faster, he wasn't there when it mattered. When they needed him.
There's a burning in the back of his eyes, too. Ike tries not to think about that. He tries not to think period, tries to just run no matter how much it hurts.
Ike reaches the outskirts of the campus, and immediate registers the smoke and scent of coppery blood in the air. Dark gashes slice through the lucky few remaining buildings. Some have gotten away with only a few cracks while others have split in two by the force of the cylinder's explosion.
Then, he sees it: a bowl-shaped wound in the earth, right at the spot where the east corridor should be. There are the bitter remains of some buildings scattered around it and students are –still? It's been hours– swarming around it trying to…to what? What can they possibly salvage from that?
Not much, says the voice of bitter experience inside his head.
She's dead. They're all dead.
No, Ike tells himself briskly. Think of happy things. Glittery strip clubs in New York, the time he and Hunter watched a marathon of the Office, Abraham's silky scarf, and the poem Jade wrote about him.
Ike's running slows to a jog as he fights against a voice of painful call inside his mind that's telling him to stop. Self preservation tells him to run the other way, away from this place. He can leave. They aren't trapped anymore. They're free.
Stop and prepare yourself, you idiot, stop and brace yourself because what if- stop, stop, stop and accept the probabilities. Accept the very likely truth-
He reaches the disaster zone. Ike looks past the edge of the chaos, ignoring the students digging through the rubble, while others pull their friends' bodies out from underneath the concrete. Ike thinks he's going to be sick when he sees the spot where the library used to stand.
"Stupid friggin cylinder." Someone spits in disgust in familiar annoyed tone. "Of course it destroyed the only section dedicated to the Arts that this hellhole has. Typical."
"Maybe complain about the lack of creative studies later, and enjoy the moment. In case you didn't notice, we're alive. Barely. But alive!"
Once again, Abe is wrong, as a moment time stands still again, and he doesn't even know his own last name because Ike had tried not to think about that.
But he's a realist so he had, of course he had, considered all the possibilities and the chances of survival rates and how life seemed to hate him since his six birthday when he decided he was different. Of course he had thought– he had thought that, you know, they were...and now he can't stop staring because here she is.
Jade stands with her leather jacket wrapped around her waist and she's talking to Hunter with a slight sneer. A fine layer of ash and dust covers her uniform, and Hunter is cradling his elbow at an awkward angle- a sprain maybe?
A few feet away, Vanessa stands with dried blood on her neck and sweat dripping down her forehead. Shes helping to stands Fortunato up on a piece of rubble for him to get a better look at all the destruction.
And suddenly Jade's eyes glance his way and meet his. They light up at the sight of him.
"Real great timing, dipshit. You missed out on all the fun." She rolls her eyes, and somewhere in the distance Ike hears glass shattering and Casey's shouting commands like the general she is.
He walks towards her slowly, and everything else seems to fade around him, he barely listens as she continues talking. She's alive.
"-heard Irina shouting at Fortunato, and we went to investigate, so we weren't inside when all hell broke loose-" He's close enough for her to see his expression now and she cuts herself off.
"You look like crap." Her eyes trace up and down him with a concerned expression.
He feels like if he loses sight of so much as a freckle, she could disappear right in front of his eyes.
"Ike? Ike-" She takes a step towards him, and he can smell the smoke in her hair. "What wrong? Did something happ-"
He takes another step forward, and before Ike can think or second-guess his instincts, he's already pulled Jade into a sudden, desperate hug.
"Woah?" Jade stutters suddenly as his arms tighten around her, although she doesn't resist the embrace. "Ike?"
He tries to speak through all the stupid emotions clogging his throat. Tries to tell her that he likes her eyes even when they're running with tears. Tries to tell her that he enjoys her shitty poems. Tries to say that he respects the way she charges through life and calls everyone out on their bullshit.
But in the end, all that comes out is a quiet whimper. He sounds like he's crying.
Maybe because he is.
"Hey." Jade whispers lowly, and she lets her hands settle around his neck while one pats his back soothingly, "…Guess you were worried, huh? My bad." Jade sighs.
Ike had already prepared himself. He had prepared himself to get to the campus, and to find everyone gone. Dead. He knew they had achieved their goal. The loop was broken, and the better future was waiting for them. But when he felt the wave of the broken timeline begin to destroy the Academy, Ike realized none of it meant anything if they didn't get out of Morning Glories Academy together.
He prepared himself to see her dead.
It was only in that moment; when he saw the world collapsing around him, did he realize that he needed her, realized he might lov-
"It's finally over." Blevins, of course, Ike swears she has some sixth sense to interrupt every moment he has with Jade, stomps up with her ponytail swinging in the wind behind her, "There's a tunnel that Hodge used to get here. If we start hiking now, we can get there before sunset."
Ike doesn't mind that the moment got interrupted.
Apparently, they'll have some time to make more.