Page 29 of Life Lessons

When I finally land the manoeuvre it would not be an understatement to say that the whole crowd roars. Combined with the pounding bass of the music, it feels like the walls are reverberating with noise. I take a few seconds to catch my breath before looking over to see what move Jett is going to finish with. However, he isn’t bouncing. Instead, he is just standing there staring at me. The look of awe shines brightly on his face as he stares at me with a burning passion. He looks to be almost frozen, and I catch a glance at the clock. There’s only fourteen seconds left. He has to start his final bounce now or he won’t land in time and it wont count.

“Bounce, Jett. You won’t have time to finish if you don’t go now,” I shout over the loud music, but he doesn’t begin to bounce. Instead he hops over to me.

Now it’s my turn to stay frozen. I feel like a deer caught in headlights as he stalks over to me. His gaze has a burning intensity that makes me feel naked. As soon as he reaches me, he just reacts, as though we are the only two people in the room. He throws his arms around me and lifts me up into a bear hug. Once my feet are fully off the ground, he crashes his lips against mine. It’s intense, passionate, and I feel it deep into my bones. Just the taste of this man has me weak in the knees.

We are pulled out of our moment by the roaring applause around us and the booming noise from the DJ that reverberates out of the speakers and around the whole warehouse.

“It looks like our pretty little lady takes the win, and what a prize she won. Now, put her down and take her to a bedroom,” the DJ jokes.

Jett pulls his lips from mine, but that’s as far as we part. He keeps hold of me and his eyes never leave mine. There’s a part of me that thinks I should be embarrassed by his intense stare, but I know that’s the dark side of my brain that likes to creep in during my happiest times. It’s my brain’s way of reminding me that I don’t deserve to be happy. Normally, I’m happy to let the darkness consume me, to take away any light or happiness I might be feeling, but not today. I want just one night where I don’t let it consume me. I want just one night where I let Jett see the real me.

“What are you staring at?” I ask timidly, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“You. It’s all fucking you. I always give you the benefit of the doubt and anticipate that you will be hiding something, preparing myself for that fact you will be amazing. Yet, still, every time you exceed all expectations. How the fuck did you know how to do that?” he asks as he puts me down. He keeps hold of my hand and leads me out of the competition arena, paying no attention to the crowd who are still trying to talk to me.

Exiting the bounce area, we head to the bar since we are both covered in sweat, and clearly in need of refreshments. One guy approaches and offers to buy me a drink, but the look on Jett’s face tells him everything he needs to know. We sit on the small table to the side, out of the way of people, but not because we want to hide, we just want privacy. A waitress appears before we can even get settled.

“Congratulations, girlie. You have won yourself a free drink. What can I get you?” the waitress asks in a singsong voice. Far too chirpy for a weekday evening, in my opinion.

“Can I just get a Diet Coke, please?” I ask before turning to Jett. “What are you having?”

I expect him to say his usual alcoholic drink of choice, but he surprises me. “I will have the same, please.”

I stare at him with a shocked look on my face and he just rolls his eyes like a teenage girl. He waits. The whole time just staring at me with a smile on his face and I’m not ashamed to say that I am ogling him. This carefree, happy side of him is kind of intoxicating, the type of intoxication I will happily lose myself in. It’s like he is shining a light to get me through the darkness.

“Stop staring, Little Bird, or I will have to take you outside and fuck you on the car. As much as I really would fucking love that, I am trying to behave. So, tell me how you knew how to do all that? There’s being good at gymnastics, and then there is what you just did,” Jett teases, his voice practically a low purr. He knows for a fact he isn’t behaving, but I suspect he also knows there’s a reason I avoided his question. He’s attempting to distract me with sex enough in the hope I answer. Even though it’s not a subject I talk about, he deserves to know.

“Matilda and I were regional champions at gymnastics. The trampoline was a regular part of our training. Before they let us loose on the equipment, we had to prove we could do the mechanics of each move on the trampoline. We actually competed in a double’s trampoline competition just for fun one year, we won gold at the junior regionals. But gymnastics was where our hearts belonged. Tillie was a fucking beast on the floor, her dance moves combined with gymnastics techniques made her almost untouchable. Whereas, I was number one on the balance beam and vault. I love the vault because your whole competition literally comes down to less than a two minute time frame. You have to show your power and speed in the run, and it feels like it takes forever before you reach the springboard. But when you do, that is where you can show off your skill. I always loved that, but the balance beam is where I excelled. I’m the only junior to have never fallen in a balance beam competition. I literally have a clean slate, which given the difficulty ratings I threw out, it was practically unheard of. It’s hard to explain but from the moment I stepped foot on a beam, I would go into my own world. Just existing in my own head, blocking out everything around me. My body knew exactly what it had to do and I just did it.”

I hadn’t realised how much I‘ve been talking, until I look over at Jett. I hate what I see. There’s a look of astonishment that I expect, but it’s the look of pity I really don’t like seeing. I don’t need anyone’s fucking pity. I avert my eyes, not wanting him to see the pain I know will be etched there.

“Hey, don’t look away from me. What’s the matter?” he asks, looking shocked, which just pisses me off even more. I thought he knew me.

“I don’t need your fucking pity,” I snarl, as I move to stand up.

Jet grips me by the arm, not hard enough to cause a bruise, but enough to let me know I shouldn’t leave. “Good, because you’ll get no fucking pity from me. What you think you saw wasn’t pity. I am in fucking awe of your achievements. I sure what I saw today is only a glimpse of what you are really capable of, and I want to see it all. That’s probably why you saw some sadness on my face. I fucking hate the fact you lost your sister, but what I hate more is everything else you lost too. How much did you give up when you lost your sister? Be honest,” he pokes, and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I should have known he sees all of me.

“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble, my hands now covering my face making it hard for me to see the penetrating stare I know is there.

“Fuck that. Of course it matters. Tell me.” His voice is firm and commanding. I want to roll my eyes and tell him to fuck off. I want to run a mile and let the darkness that comes from talking about all this shit consume me, but I don’t. Instead, I stay and talk for the first time since the accident.

“The week before she died, we had just won our qualifier to make the Olympic team. I was going to be in the women’s all-round event, as well as solo’s on beam and vault. Tillie was going to do a solo floor routine, and be back up for the team all-round. When she died the coaches said I could take some time, but not too long. The Olympics don’t exactly wait while you finish grieving. Like you ever really finish. They needed me at an event just two months after her death. I had never done a competition without Tillie by my side and I just couldn’t do it. Not to mention the crush injury to my leg. There’s no way I could have got fit enough in time. So I quit. I can’t do it without her,” I cry. The tears stream down my face as I open up to Jett. The loud beat of the music, and the darkness of the club-like atmosphere this place has, gives me some level of cover, a small way to hide.

Jett gives me a couple of seconds to live in my pain, knowing how much I have come to rely on it, before he pulls my hands away from my face and holds them in his own. Looking down it’s almost comical to see my tiny smooth hands in his large calloused ones. His eyes are staring into mine, and it’s very clear there is no pity there now.

“Abbie, you shouldn’t give up on your dream. I obviously didn’t get a chance to meet Matilda, but I am guessing in most ways she was a lot like you. Which is why I can categorically say that she would not have wanted this for you. She would have hated the idea of you not living your life as best you can. I know this with a certainty because that’s exactly what you would want for her. Am I right?”

“Maybe...before, but now I’m not so sure. She’s dead because of me. She doesn’t get to achieve her olympic goals, so why should I. How can I carry on living when she can’t? It’s not fair!” I shout, trying to pull my hands away from Jett, but he refuses to let go.

Why isn’t he running? I have just told him I’m responsible for my sister’s death, and it’s like he never heard that part. He still tries to comfort me, even though I don’t deserve it.

I need to get away, the darkness is closing in, and I’m so close to letting it consume me. But, first, I need to get home. Back into my own little bubble where I can drown in my own grief.

“You can never know that. There is a name for what you are describing. It’s called survivor’s guilt, and it’s a very real thing. You feel like you don’t deserve to live if Matilda can’t, but you do,” he says firmly, but I just scoff.

“When did you become a fucking psychiatrist? I know what survivor’s guilt is. I have seen more fucking counsellors and head doctors, as my mother loves to call them, than you would believe. My parents hoped there would be a magic pill to fix me, but it doesn’t work that way,” I spit and he laughs.

“You are preaching to the choir here, Little Bird. I know all about the pain of losing someone, remember. Look, I’m not saying you will ever get over your survivor’s guilt, and I sure as fuck am not telling you how to grieve. I’m not sure I even know the right way. All I am saying is, please, just consider living your best life. When you were bouncing a few minutes ago, that is the happiest, lightest, most beautiful version of you that I have ever seen. Your face glowed with the biggest smile. You jumped into that competition without a second thought because competing is in your blood. Just think about it. It’s not too late, but if you wait much longer it might be.” His voice doesn’t hold any sadness and he doesn’t sound like he is in teacher-mode, telling me what to do. Instead, he is unwavering and simply smiles.

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