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Jessie grabbed the window frame and pushed it open easily; Nick had stopped closing the window at night a while. She swung over the window sill and slid down the wall to the floor. Her lungs burned from running so fast. There was no point in hurrying, but the anger inside her demanded an outlet.
Her eyes quickly became adapted to the darkness: a narrow strip of light pierced through the gap between the door and the wall. The room was quiet. So quiet that she could hear the soft murmur of the radio on the first floor, the pouring of the water in the sink, the clinking of washed plates. Jessie rose heavily from the floor, walked over to the desk, and collapsed into the chair. She pulled it closer; the wheels rolled noisily across the floor.
She carelessly brushed away the markers and the stack of scribbled papers, lowered her head to the table and moved the picture frame closer to the light. She smiled softly. At home, hidden behind untouched textbooks, was exactly the same one: the only picture of her and Nick. Maybe they should have taken more pictures, just in case...
Jessie closed her eyes tiredly and dozed off.
"I knew you'd be here."
The switch flicked, and the room lit up brightly. She lifted her head from the table and squinted, sleepily looking at Nick. He was standing in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, and looked at her with warm sparks in the eyes. But, noticing her bloody lip, Nick frowned and walked out of the room without words.
Jessie yawned lazily, got up from the chair, and climbed onto the bed. She kicked off her shoes and put feet up. Just in time: he came back to the bedroom with the first aid kit in hands.
"Don't forget to kiss the wound," she grinned, turning to him with the injured side of face, "you forgot last time. It really stings."
Nick sighed and gently wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth.
"Why are you so sour?" Jessie tried to shake him off again, but hissed when he pressed an alcohol-scented cotton ball to the wound. "Hey, I'm serious, it burns!"
He rolled his eyes, but when he removed the cotton ball, he obediently kissed her swollen lip.
"Better?" Nick asked softly, pulling away. Jessie nodded, lowered herself onto the cushions, and held out her hand invitingly. But he ignored the gesture, looking away grimly.
"Jessie, let me talk to him," he stared at his nervously clasped hands. She pressed her lips together angrily; she was really sick of the subject.
"About what, poetry?" Jessie snorted wryly, grabbed the hem of his shirt, and pulled him toward her. "C'mon, he's stronger than you! You tried to intervene once before, and it ended ugly."
"Well, I've had some workout since then," he looked at her with stubborn determination. "Maybe this time our little talk will end with a different score..."
"It won't. Enough of this, okay? C'mere and give me a hug!" Jessie playfully tugged at his shirt again, and Nick finally gave in, laying down by her.
"Why don't we just kill him?" she nestled comfortably against his chest, mindlessly twisting the button of his shirt in the fingers. It was held together only on a couple of frayed threads. "And no more trouble..."
"Yeah, except that we're going to spend the next few years in jail. That's not the best plan, honey."
"But at least we'll spend them together," Jessie murmured. The button did come off and stayed in her fingers. "Oh, shit..."
"What, is that asshole talking about moving again?" he leaned on the elbow and looked at her warily.
She gave a silent nod. Nick gritted his teeth and pulled Jessie closer, stroking her shoulder soothingly. There was an anxious silence in the room. The wind rumbled through the half-closed window, and grew stronger and stronger. The weather forecasters promised a severe thunderstorm tonight...
The radio kept whining away downstairs. Jessie sighed wearily and closed her eyes. The adrenaline was wearing off, and she was tired.
Nick broke the silence first.
"Jessie, I'd already supposed that, but," he trailed off and licked his parched lips. "I'll be eighteen in a month. Why don't we get married? And I'll take you away from that asshole..."
"And again, no."
Nick closed his mouth and frowned. Jessie sat up abruptly on the bed and rubbed her face furiously with one hand, tearing the crust off her wound.
"Fuck," she ran fingers through her tangled curls and balled them into a fist. It was getting harder and harder to refuse him. "Look, I love you! But it's just... I'm not cut out for this shit! All that stuff you said about "being normal, baking brownies"... Where am I and where are the damn brownies? I just don't want that life! Let's just drop the subject."
He nodded silently and pulled her back to him. Jessie sighed heavily as she rested her face on his shoulder, letting herself relax only when his arms wrapped around. She couldn't help but think that one day Nick would get tired of putting up with all her issues.
And then she'll have no one left.
***
There was a rumble of thunder; a few seconds later a flash of lightning revealed a thin silhouette at the window. Jessie was sitting on the windowsill, almost halfway out, and smoking. Nick, with his hands behind the head, was half-sitting on the bed, staring at her.
"Babe," Jessie let the smoke out and turned to him, "are you going to ask me to prom?"
"Didn't I already...?" he frowned puzzled. Seems not; at some point they both decided they were going together.
Her eyes sparkled slyly from under her wet bangs.
"Not officially," she jumped down from the window and stared at him waitfully, clutching a lit cigarette in her teeth.
"Well, then... how about keeping me company at the prom?" Nick stretched and sat up, flicking his torn shirt to the floor.
"You're not romantic at all," Jessie laughed and stepped closer, her bare feet slapping the floor. "Well, I'm gonna go. I'll even wear a dress and heels... probably. I haven't decided if I'm ready to do that for you."
"Ready," Nick smirked, reaching out his hand. She rolled her eyes, putting the lit cigarette in his hand. He took a drag and immediately coughed.
"Give the inhaler?" Jessie quickly snatched the cigarette from him. He held up both hands in a soothing gesture, still coughing slightly.
"No need," he finally managed to say, wiping away the tears in his eyes. "Just ain't smoked in a while."
"Don't start that again, and remind me to spoil you a little less, love," she shoved him in the back with a short chuckle and climbed into his lap.
"I like being spoiled by you," Nick slid his hands up her thigh to get under her long shirt. - Wow, you've got goosebumps all over your body! Are you freezing?
"It was the idea," Jessie smiled, blowing the smoke away from him, "to give you an excuse to feel me up."
"Like I needed an excuse," Nick grinned and pinched her ass. She let out an indignant squeal and stared at him with a vindictive smirk.
"I was wondering... Does it bother you that I'm a lot taller than you?"
"I don't mind," he snorted, suspecting that Jessie was teasing him again. "What about you?"
"Let me see," she took a slow drag. The cigarette was almost done, the embers at the end close to breaking off. "No, it's not a problem. However, the fact that you suggested a cricket as a strip game..."
Nick fell on his back and groaned pitifully. Whenever Jessie wanted to get even, she always remembered this episode.
"Listen, honey, an extremely hot new girl broke into my window at 2 a.m.! Do you think my upper brain had any part in my making decisions that night?"
"Wait... so the cricket was suggested by your bottom brain? Should I call him "sir" now?" laughing, she poked the cigarette at his fly and barely held on to his lap when he twitched, shaking off the smoldering embers.
"God, Jessie, the hell are you doing?" Nick sighed irritably and pointed at the melted hole in his jeans. "First the shirt, now this... You want to fuck up all my clothes?"
"I want to fuck you… up," she pulled him hard for a kiss. It rumbled again, and for a brief moment it was light as day outside the window. The radio downstairs hissed, knocking off the wave.
"You did it the first day we met," he smiled mockingly, breaking away from her lips to tear off her wet shirt and toss it aside. Pulling her to the back of neck, he greedily kissed her lips again. Jessie smirked satisfied and ran her cold fingers from the waist down, scratching his skin with her short nails. She stopped teasingly just above the waistband of his jeans; his muscles tensed under her hand. Nick pressed his lips to her neck, letting out a short, irritated moan, and bit into her skin shamelessly.
The stupid bra clasp wouldn't budge. He yanked impatiently on the hooks...
"Nicholas," Mrs. Sawyer's voice came from behind the door, "are you awake?"
Nick froze, looking at Jessie in confusion. She burst into silent laughter and quickly jumped off his lap. She picked up her jeans and socks from the floor and silently disappeared behind the closet door.
"Almost asleep," he said tensely and threw the blanket over his legs, "what happened?"
The door to the room opened. Mrs. Sawyer came into the bedroom and placed milk and a plate of cookies on the night table.
"Here, I brought you a snack," she sat down on the bed right next to Jesse's shirt. Nick swallowed and quickly grabbed a glass from the nightstand, busying his trembling hands. "Tomorrow we're going to the mall to buy a new radio. Do you want to come with us?"
"Nah, lots of homework," he shrugged awkwardly, glancing at the closet door for a moment. He had other plans for tomorrow. "What about the radio?"
"Lightning hit the house... Didn't you hear anything?" mrs. Sawyer cast a surprised look. "By the way, why is your window open?"
"I must have dozed then," Nick took a big sip and put the glass back on the nightstand. "Just like the smell of rain. Except today it smelled weird, like a car was gassing under the window."
Mrs. Sawyer, frowning puzzledly, sniffed, "Hmm, you're right. At first I thought I smelled tobacco... Should I close the window?"
"No, I'll close it later," Nick answered with a strained smile, and then asked. "Is that all, Mom?"
"Yes, rest now," she smiled understandably and patted his hair tenderly. "Are you leaning out of the window? Your hair is wet."
"Mom, I thought you were leaving," he snorted with an obvious hint, pushing her hand away. "Thanks for the snack, but I'd really like to get some sleep."
"Okay, okay," she got up and glanced back at him before closing the door behind her. "Good night, son."
"Good night, Mom," Nick said loudly and then listened as the footsteps faded away down the stairs. "Jessie, the coast is clear!"
The closet door opened slowly, and Jessie slipped out, warily looking around. There was a new stiffness in her movements.
"It was close," she collapsed on the bed, rolled onto her stomach, and buried her face in the pillow. "Your mother would have gone completely freaked out if she'd seen me."
"Don't exaggerate," he snorted, and took the opportunity to tug on the clasp of her bra to see how it could be undone.
"I'm sure she'd be furious! She hates me," Jessie rolled her eyes irritably. He undid his fingers and the bra clasp slammed down her back. "Oh! Nick, I'm not kidding! To your mother, I'm the scum that could screw up your whole life."
"You don't..."
She didn't even listen to him, just continued with a fierce grin, "You know what I don't fucking get?
"What?" Nick let out a long sigh and lay down next to her, face to face. When Jessie was like this, all he could do was listen. And every time he fought the urge to shake her by the shoulders to get the stupid thoughts out of her head.
"Why me?" she scowled, looking over his shoulder. "No, I like being with you, but... There's a chasm between us, Nick! You have a good family, you grew up in love and care. Your mom still brings you milk at bedtime! And your future is planned out for years ahead. You'll finish college, get a job in strict suits and a noose around your neck. There'll be a pretty wife waiting for you at home with a steaming dinner on the table. I don't fit in! And actually I don't want to fit in...".
"You make this future sound so pathetic," Nick moved closer, putting his hand on Jessie's shoulders. He almost yanked his hand away, because her skin was icy. "The worst part about it is the part without you in it."
"Why would I be in it?" her voice was barely audible through another rumble of thunder. "Do you think you can save me?"
"From your asshole father? Hell, yeah!"
"That's not what I meant," Jessie snorted irritably and rolled over onto her back, finally looking right at him. "If you think you can get me out of my shitty life, shake off the dirt and lead me into a world of sparkling kitchen tiles and homemade cookies, then..."
"Gosh, would you just shut up, Jesse!" he interrupted the flow of nonsense and did what he'd always wanted to do: grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a good shake. "Have I ever given you any reason to think that... I'm not going to turn you into one of Stepford's wives! Or put an apron on you and lock you in the kitchen! Why on earth did you get the idea?"
"But you said it yourself," Jessie stared at him with wide eyes, and his eyebrows rose in bewilderment. "You know, when I almost shot those jerks in the cemetery. You made that whole speech about how we could be normal, baking brownies..."
"Damn, Jesse, you're... you're something!" the absurdity of the situation slowly dawned on him, and he laughed, pressing his forehead against hers. "First of all, I just blurted out everything I could to get you to put the goddamn gun down. I don't even remember exactly what I said because I was creeped out! See, I don't have much experience in getting rid of bodies..... And secondly, it was me who wanted to learn how to bake the damn brownies!"
She chuckled incredulously, "But it's better to keep you away from the stove. For your own safety."
"That's why I want you there with me! You can save the brownies if need be. Or, at worst, the kitchen from the fire," still chuckling, he tossed the hair away from her face. Jessie smiled awkwardly and tried to pull away, but Nick stopped her with a hand on the back of her head. "Honey, I'll never be like your father. I promise. I don't want to fix you, I just want to be someone you can relax with and stop fighting the world, at least for a while. Okay?"
She swallowed, and stared at him with an unfamiliarly vulnerable look on her face.
"I know you're not like my father. I know, I'm just... afraid," Jessie threw the words out with an effort. Nick stroked her back gently; she sighed heavily and spoke in a quick, choppy whisper. "I'm afraid that in a week or two my father will pack up his stuff, and we'll leave this state to go to hell know where. And when I can come back, you ain't waiting for me no more. Or I'll forget you like I used to... I'm afraid you're only interested in me as long as the novelty effect lasts. I am afraid of marriage and how it may end. I've only known you a few months, and that's... it's damn little time!"
"I'm scared, too," Nick admitted easily when she faltered and was lost in silence. He knew how hard it was for her to accept her own weaknesses. "We're only seventeen, and we're too young to make such a big decision. I never thought I'd get married before I was thirty," he laughed awkwardly, glancing at Jessie. Fortunately, the corner of her mouth twitched upward, too. "But, darling, listen... this is the easiest way to get emancipated and run away from that bastard! I've studied state law: we can go to a judge and prove that there are exceptional circumstances. It's not easy, I know...but at least we can try! And after the wedding, I promise, nothing will change. Except that asshole will disappear from your life... and I'll stay in it."
"That's the opposite of nothing, baby," Jessie gave a mocking snort, and then nodded resolutely, looking at him. Her eyes glittered in the darkness. "Okay, well... Tomorrow, when your parents are gone, we'll learn how to bake your stupid brownies. And about the rest of it... We'll think about that later, okay? I'm just not ready yet."
Nick nodded in relief and reached for her, kissing her wherever he could. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.
"Okey! Stop it, enough! My lip hurts from smiling," Jessie giggled softly, covering his mouth with her fingers. He raised hands in a surrendering gesture, letting her go.
She immediately took advantage of it, rolling onto her side and jumping up off the bed. Nick pulled himself up and looked at her in question.
"It's cold here," Jessie smiled unusually softly, and, picking up her cigarette butt from the floor, went to the window. Bending over, she leaned out the window into the still raging downpour and tossed the remains of her cigarette out.
And closed the window.