Emmy Laybourne: Jake and the Other Girl

“I won’t leave you, Daddy,” she said.

“You have to go!” he shouted.

Lindsay jumped, tears coming into her eyes.

“Please…” he pleaded. “Please leave me.”

“Shhh. You should sleep now. Go to sleep.”

“I’m kind of hungry.”

“I’ll put in more food when you’re asleep,” she said, checking again to see Jake’s reaction.

“What happened, anyway?” her father asked.

“I just had to take out the trash,” she lied. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you first.”

“You have to give me time to get myself tied up while I’m still in control.”

“Sorry, Daddy. The plastic around the door got loose," she told him. “But I fixed it.”

“The next time you go out, look for a chain and a lock. I’m not satisfied this rope will hold.”

Lindsay was looking at the floor.

“If I got loose, Lindsay…” his voice trailed off in a kind of a sob.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” she said. “I’ll be able to protect myself, even if you get loose.”

And here she caught Jake’s eye and held it.

“I got hold of a gun.”

Lindsay changed the CD in the boom box. Old-fashioned rock and roll.

Jake couldn’t place it.

“Thanks, sweetie. That’s nice,” said Lindsay’s father.

Lindsay turned it up pretty loud.

Then she came and sat close to Jake, on the love seat.

“Who is this, again?” Jake whispered, leaning in to her.

“U2. My dad’s favorite band.”

“What does that thing run on, anyway?” Jake asked.

"Good old-fashioned D batteries. Luckily, my mom kind of hoarded batteries. Along with candles. She had a fear of blackouts.”

Jake didn’t know what to say, exactly—with the blackout cloud over the area, Lindsay’s mom was flat out of luck.

Lindsay shrugged. “She never came home after the hailstorm. I think she must be dead somewhere.”

The lead singer of U2 was singing about a beautiful day.

“My dad killed our neighbors,” Lindsay said, looking at her nails. “The Cruzes. He would have killed me, too, only I got a rope around his neck and I choked him until he blacked out.”

“God,” Jake said.

“He wants me to leave, but I won’t. I go in there when he’s asleep or tied up and leave food for him. But sometimes he still attacks me, even when the air is okay. Something’s wrong with his head, I think.”

Honestly, Jake was waiting for her to start crying so he could comfort her. He couldn’t wait to get a hand under that sweatshirt.

But she didn’t cry.

“We’ve just always been really close, me and my dad. I used to shave with him, in the morning, when I was like five. I used an old toothbrush. He’d lather up my face and we’d both stand there, towels around our hips, shaving.”

The one song ended and another came on.

Lindsay slid off the couch, scooting towards his backpack.

“Let’s see what else you brought me.”

After she brought her Dad some food (“Are you tied up, Daddy? Okay, here I come.”); and after he told her his story (“So they told me to come out and see what I could find. And of course, I thought about you. I’d been thinking about you the whole time, so I came here to see if I could find you.”); and after she told him her plan (“We have enough food to last at least ten days more. I heard somewhere by two weeks the chemicals will be gone so it should literally be any day now.”); Lindsay finally, finally, determined her dad was asleep for the night and climbed onto his lap.

No go.

Even with her taking her top off, straddling him and biting on his ear. Biting on his ear hard, because that’s what she was like, he couldn’t get it done.

“Do you have any cigarettes?” she asked him, after she rolled off and got dressed.

Jake shook his head.

He was fumbling with his pants, looking for the foilpacks of Obezine he had stashed there.

“No,” he said. “Oh, no!”

“Shhh!” Lindsay warned, putting her hand on his arm. “My dad can’t know you’re here.”

Jake brushed her hand off and then shook his pants out, knowing it was stupid, knowing already that they were gone.

He thought back and could almost see himself on the street, shedding his layers with such stupid elation.

Somewhere on the street lay three foilpacks, each with a ten-day supply of Obezine.

Jake kicked the love seat and Lindsay jumped.

“I gotta go,” he said.

“What?” Her eyes were big, surprised. “You just got here!”

“I lost something I need. On the street.”

“Jake, don’t go. Please.”

She was crying now. Perfect.

“At least stay the night,” she said, pointing to the clock on the wall. “Stay until morning. Please, Jake. I really, really like you and I really don’t want to be alone anymore. Please?”

It occurred to him suddenly that she had been playing it cool.

That kind of broke his heart. Maybe he’d come back.

Maybe he could find his meds and raid some food on his way back and he could stay with her here.

Barksly looked up from his dog bed and thumped his tail on the floor once, like he was reading Jake’s thoughts and approved.

Fine. Jake was tired.

He felt like he could sleep forever.

The foilpacks would be there in the morning.

And if they weren’t, he could go back to the store.

They slept on the couch together.

She cuddled into him and soon her breath came heavy and soft.

Jake lay there, holding a hot girl in his arms and he didn’t have sex with her and he couldn’t believe that this was how it was going to be.

She got up before him and made him breakfast. A plate of tuna with crackers on the side.

“Jeez,” he said, eying the dry tuna. “This what you’ve been eating?”

She looked away.

Jake felt dumb. Obviously this was the best she could do. Why didn’t he ever think before he shot off his mouth?

“Looks good,” he told Lindsay. “Thanks.”

In the corner, Barksly was licking the pouch the tuna had come from.

“Look,” Jake said in a quiet voice. “I lost something on the street. Something I need. So I gotta go out and get it.”

“You’ll never come back,” she said. She kept her head low, so her hair hung down and he couldn’t see her face.

“Don’t be like that,” Jake said.

“It’s okay. We’re doing okay. We don’t need you.”

She turned her back but it’s hard to hide you’re crying in a room with a mirrored wall.

“You’re a real piece of work, Jake,” she said.

She didn’t understand, about the pills. Without them, he wouldn’t make it. As simple as that. The despair would sit down on him again and he’d be done for.

But he didn’t expect her to understand. How could she? He hadn’t given her the information.

Didn’t want to.

Just wanted to get the hell out of there now.

Jake looked around, gathering up his things. He couldn’t let Lindsay have everything from the backpack. What if after he got the pills he decided to try for Denver? He left the chocolate, some gum, two energy bars. But he needed the rest.

“I don’t want your chocolate!” she yelled. “Just go. GET OUT OF HERE!”

“Who’s there? Lindsay, are you okay?” came her dad’s voice.

“It’s okay, Dad,” she called.

“It’s just me, Jake Simonsen, sir. I came to check on your daughter.”

“Who?!”

“Jake Simonsen, from the football team.”

The captain of the team, he didn’t need to add.

“I remember you! I remember you!” Lindsay’s father said with rising agitation.