This Lie Is Brought To You By....Jake

Talk about a slam to self-confidence.

I mean, I always knew I wasn't much in the way of a heroine, especially the kind that always got the guy and had a halo of light illuminating cascading waves of hair (Arwen comes to mind).  But is it so wrong to think that you have something special that counts for something?  Just something?

Jake was a professional liar.  He was paid millions to perform the greatest lie for four years.  But we had a friendship that broke all the rules.  If he were to tell anyone the whole truth and nothing but the truth, the common belief (and my own belief as well) was that I would be that one person.

So not true.

"He wasn't anywhere near the car accident that killed his parents," Tristan told me last night.  We had been talking about the books I want to write about us, and one of my ideas was to incorporate Jake's story with our own.  "He was stationed in Iraq or Afghanistan when he got his own injury."

"What?"  I shook my head.  "No, he said he was here with his parents-"

"No, he was in the military.  How do you think they knew where to find him?"

Okay, maybe this was just a little detail Jake never mentioned.  I wasn't going to let it bother me, at least I hoped not to.  "He never told me he was a soldier!"

"Marine Corps.  He was definitely military."

That slammed into me.  A marine?  I've been dumped/ditched by an effing MARINE?!?  Memories of Jake training me, of hugging him and feeling rock-solid pectorals, of him protecting me and fighting so silently I would wonder if he was even there anymore... they flooded my mind and I felt the intense pain and anger at discovering yet another lie.  Something so simple as "hey, yeah, I was in the Marines" was never, ever uttered and yet he had no issues telling me about his dalliances with another woman.  And there was, and will always be, that fact hanging over my head:  he didn't stay after Tristan returned.  He found nothing worth staying for.

"Gosh, you would think of all people, you'd be the one he told."

I sighed and rolled over so Tristan wouldn't see my cry.  "Thank you, Tristan,"  I said with the clearest voice I could muster.  "My self-worth would not be sufficiently destroyed without that reminder."  I curled up and tried to think of anything else.  All I could do was groan, "I've been dumped by a Marine and an intergalactic prince."

Tristan laughed.  And couldn't stop laughing.  "I'm sorry!"  He gasped between fits of laughter.  "I don't know why I'm laughing!  Inappropriate emotions!  This is so not cool!"  He laughed and laughed, all the while continuously apologizing for doing so.  I knew he really meant it and remembered that a) schizophrenics tend to have inappropriate emotions without meaning to and b) Gorans can be heartless without meaning to.  I rolled over and sighed, thinking I should probably help.  "Kittens drowning."

"BWUAHAHAHAAAAAA!" He laughed harder!  The bed was shaking from how intensely he was laughing and suddenly, I found the whole thing just hilarious.  We shook the mattress with our laughter and I actually felt better about life, and it was Tristan's grossly inappropriate emotions that did the trick.  Every time I wanted to be mad, sad, or just blah, somehow he was able to make me laugh.

Several moments later I started crying again.  Quietly, of course, lest I should incite Tristan's sarcastic inquiries into why I'm crying, it's not big deal, etc etc.  I took several deep breaths, curled my arms up under my head (something I've done since infancy to sleep faster), and willed the tears away.

In the dark I could see Tristan lift his head and look at me.  He sighed, and I braced myself for the onslaught.

"Okay," he muttered, "for one night only, until I get annoyed with you."  Then to my surprise, he wiggled closer and lay his head on my arm, just where I could rest my face against his hair.  I nuzzled him just enough to test the waters, but he didn't move and I relaxed.  And smiled.  There's just something about the way Second-Humans are wired that makes physical human contact the cure-all for any emotional ailment, and being a half-breed I definitely possess that need.  Just feeling someone there soothed the storm in my mind and heart, and I didn't know how to properly thank Tristan for not only understanding this fickle Second-Human thing, but providing it.  Finally.

We fell asleep like that.  Sometime later I woke up with a major cramp in my arm, but I didn't want to wake him up or hurt his feelings by shoving him off.  In retrospect he really wouldn't have cared.  Eventually he woke up enough to roll off with an "okay, that's done" and I couldn't help but smile as I adjusted to go back to sleep.  Tristan Keller can't hide his heart of gold no matter how deep he buries it.

If Jake is still alive, and if I ever see him again, I'm not sure I'll run into his arms in a fit of hysterical bliss like I used to think I would.  How can I?  He lied to me about EVERYTHING, left me here without a single warning or actual explanation or even a notice, and despite some theories that he really did love me and just didn't know how to reconcile that with his responsibilities, I just can't afford to have faith in that anymore.

And damn it all, I'm torn between a memory and a real, breathing person.