Just Us Together

1

Jason’s POV2

I soared above the song birds3

And never heard them sing4

I lived my life in winter5

And then you brought the spring6

I woke up with the words in my head, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and confused. Why had the words come so suddenly into my head? I recognised the poem; it was from a book I had once read, Pearl Harbour. I never could remember the author. I liked the poem a lot though; it had always summed up what I felt for May. It was an expression of love, pure and honest. I rolled over; trying to find the notebook I always carried around in the back pocket of my jeans. I finally found it, the pen in the other pocket, quickly wrote down the lines. No-one else knew that the notebook existed, yet inside it were my thoughts and plot lines for the stories that I wrote. It was tattered and dog-eared, a sign of how long I had been using it. 7

With the words written down I looked over at the digital display that usually woke me up with its high pitched squeals, almost like a pig if a red hot poker had been thrust at it. It blinked back at me 9:46. I stared at it blankly. Why had I woken up so late? Last nights party had not been that ground breaking, just a few friends and some beers and a little wine. The food had been finished quickly, and the music had been varied. The atmosphere had been the main thing; it was a surprise party for May’s homecoming. We had all been planning it for about two weeks, about who would bring what and when. I had invited her around just before it started properly, and as she came in through my door we had all come and greeted her. 8

For the others it had been the first time that they had seen her after the bomb five months ago. For me it was nothing like that, I already knew what to expect. I knew that her body had been shredded by the broken glass and metal that had ripped through the air, destroying anything that it touched. 9

Since then she had healed, the scars were not as livid as they once had been, and the stitches had all been taken out. Although she was scarred, she was functional once more. Seeing her in the light summer dress that she was wearing had thrown me back into a whirlwind of memories from that day.10

We had been at the local shopping centre at the time; I had just drawn her behind a pillar because I wanted to whisper something into her ear. She had whirled around, embraced me in one of her hugs and held herself close to me. We had talked quietly, enjoying the physical contact between us. I had finally told her what I had wanted to, that I loved her. She whirled away from me as the shop window display caught her attention. As she ran to it the bomb went off from within the shop itself. It had caught her fully in its blast, had whipped her backwards away from the display. The glass and metal had shredded her perfect skin. I remember running to her. Holding her head in my hands as other people fell around us. I remember thinking she was dead as the artery in her neck began to pump blood out of her in pretty pink fountains. On an instinct I had shoved my hand to the source and stopped it pumping the precious blood from her wasted body. The ambulances came after about thirty minutes, but I remember thinking that they would not turn up in time. It was as 11

I was looking down at her, holding her life in the balance that I realised I had also been hit. My shirt was tattered and deep gashes in my arms and chest began to slowly seep out my own crimson tears. Soon I was using the shirt to bandage what I could on May. I knew that she had a greater need for it than I ever would. 12

For me, only her life meant anything. If I were to die trying to save her, then it would be worth it. 13

She spent five hours in the operating theatre, the debris being taken out of her and her body being stitched back together. I had been in a separate room, having forty stitches applied to my own injuries. I had travelled with May on the congested road in the ambulance. I had held her hand as they gave her plasma in a drip. She had come round for a moment in the ambulance, and she made a grim effort to smile at me before she went back under. At the hospital she had been whisked away, and it was only much later I was allowed to go and see her. I was there when her parents came into the private room that the hospital had put her in. I was there whilst her parents went back home to get some sleep. I stayed with her for two days, till she came back round. 14

In that time I had barely moved. Nurses came and gave me food and drink if I asked for it. The only time I left that room was for the odd toilet break, and then it was back to my vigil by her side. It was a great time to think over everything that had happened between us.15

I found myself constantly writing, trying to weave our stories together, so that it seemed like a cohesive whole. I must have used up about two hundred pages of paper in those 2 days, constantly writing as though there was nothing better in the world I wanted to do. As though it was my destiny, which in a way it was.16

It was just as I was finishing that she woke up. I turned towards her and smiling, sat beside her and gently held her hand. She croaked a little for water, which I poured for her, holding her up as she drank delicately. She winced as the cold water hit the back of her throat. All the other memories came back in a flash, a brutal reminder of the past.17

I tried to smile, but it wasn’t coming easily, I had seen her in the five months that she had spent in the hospital, trying to recover, having good day and bad ones. I helped her as best as I could, but never felt it was enough.18

So the homecoming party for her was my way of saying that no matter what happened I was there for her. That I would never desert her the way that she had once been deserted. 19

I had tried to concentrate on my school work, but it began to suffer, not hugely but there was always a part of me that was detached from it all, I was miles away with May. I only came back into my own body for a few hours a day, when I was out on the rugby pitch and the blood was pounding in my ear as I ran. The ball would seem to be feather light in my hands and the game would unfold, demanding everything from me. And I willingly surrendered everything I had to it. Often I would walk to the hospital as I went to May, often bleeding from a gash of some sort that had to be stitched. 20

So seeing her walk through my door completely unsupported was something that I had not seen her do yet. Her injuries had often meant that she needed someone to lean upon, or just to make sure that she could make it. Now her independent spirit once again held her up and forced her to do things that would normally not be possible. At least not for her. 21

I held her up as she stumbled, still awkward after not having properly walked for so long. She grinned and greeted the others. They had become subdued as they took in the damage to her, but quickly made up for it in their attempts to act normal. But there was a real sense that the atmosphere was forced. I brought May to the sofa and sat her down as I opened up beers for us all. We all sat for a moment, listening to the music and enjoying the beer. The questions finally came about that day. We fielded them of as a team, answering no more than we had to. After a while we moved on to better subjects, like my most recent rugby match and whether May would keep on dancing. I knew that no matter what happened, nothing would stop May from dancing, and she confirmed that in front of us all. 22

Suddenly she stood up, pulled me up by my hand and held herself close to me, dancing whilst I still had my beer in hand. 23

She was smiling properly at me, looking right into my eyes with a kind of soul searching look that would lay anyone open to the bone. She seemed to look inside of me, instead of being deflected by the mask. I wrapped my hands around her and just held her as we slowly span around in time with the music.24

May’s POV25

It felt amazing to be in Jason’s arms. I knew that he would never forget tonight, it was something that he had wanted for so long, to know that I was ok and almost back to normal. I wanted to thank him for saving my life, yet knew that there were no words to thank him enough for what he had done. I knew that he still blamed himself for what had happened at the shopping centre, knew also that there was no way to particularly console him, the sense of guilt ran too deep. It would come in its own time and only when he was ready for it.26

I remembered the words that he had whispered in my ear at the time, “May, I love you”, at the time I had been more flippant of what we had, caring about Jason, but unwilling to use the word. For me it had negative undertones, because my “love” had been misplaced before. I had hurt too many people and been hurt too many times to ever want to hear those words again. 27

But from him it had felt so natural to hear it from, because he seemed too really mean it when he had said it. He had shown it to me many times, and I knew that some of the favours he had done for me would not have been done unless he really cared about me. For example the day when I had asked him to buy me some more tampons because I had been running low, he had taken the money he needed, gone down to Boots and bought them without any questions asked. I didn’t know anyone else who would have done that for me.28

And there were other examples when I had needed him and he had come to me no matter what he had been doing at the time. If he knew I needed him of course. 29