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Ten Things: Let Me Tell You Why
by Nicky
* * * * * * * * * *
I should have been expecting it. I really should have. After the phone call, I should have known he wouldn't be able to leave it alone. *I* couldn't leave it alone. So how could I expect him to? He wanted to know why I hated him. Over and over in my mind, I keep on hearing the hurt in his voice. And I keep on replaying the moment when I finally admitted to myself that what I feel for Jarod has pretty much nothing to do with hate. It was a wonder I was able to refrain from telling him. I guess it was easier when we were merely speaking, our conversation separated by only Jarod knows how many miles. But this is too much. How in the world am I going to be able to resist him now?
* * * * * * * * * *
She looks surprised for a minute. She wasn't expecting me. But she really should know better by now. I asked her a question on the phone the other day. Why does she hate me? She never really answered. I'm here for my answer. And then, I'll give her what she wants and leave her alone. No matter how hard that will be for me, she deserves a semi peaceful life. One without my annoyances and aggravation. I can't imagine my life without her. I don't even want to think of it right now. But if that's what she wants, that's the least I can do for her. That's actually the real reason I came over tonight. To say good-bye. To see her one last time.
* * * * * * * * * *
"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I try to maintain my edge. Maybe I'll be able to get him out of here without any damage to my usually intact icy exterior. Underneath, something's been churning since I last spoke with him, slowly melting away at my facade. If he stays too long . . .
"We've been playing this game for how long, Miss Parker?" he asks quietly. He stares at me with that wounded puppy dog look and I feel my body temperature rise even higher. Jarod has got to go and he's got to go now. That look is killing me.
"Jarod, you're the one playing games tonight," I sigh in faux exasperation. "Why don't you just tell me what you want and then leave. I'm exhausted and unless you plan on coming peacefully to the Centre with me, I'm not in the mood for whatever trouble it would cause me tonight. Just say what you want and then go." Okay, that was a bit rude, but I hope he got the message.
"Okay," he says, nodding his head. "You told me you hated me. I just want to know why. And then you won't have to worry about me causing you trouble again. Not tonight. Not ever," he adds with a whisper.
"What do you mean?" I hear myself ask him before I can even think about the words coming out of my mouth. My curiosity gets the better of me. I shouldn't be falling for this, but something tells me this is far from a game for him. Something in his eyes is different. He seems resolved about something. I don't know what it is, but I don't think I'm going to like it.
"Hate is a horrible emotion. If you're feeling that, then I know it's eating away at you and hurting you. I don't want that. I don't want you to hate me. I'm going so that you can't hate me anymore. I'm leaving so that I can't hurt you anymore."
Oh. Once again, Jarod's over exuberant sense of justice rears its ugly head. He's trying to save me. I just look at him, unsure of what to say at this moment.
* * * * * * * * * *
She kind of just looks at me for a minute, her mouth hanging open in a silent 'oh'.
"You're leaving?" she finally says. "For good? This is good-
bye?"
I nod. I'm afraid if I try to speak now, I'll just start blubbering and crying like a big baby. I never thought this day would come. The last day I'd ever see her. I tried to prepare for it. I tried to sim the direction the conversation would go. But not even that prepared me for the heartache of actually having to walk away from the only woman I've ever loved. Yes, that's right. Love. I love her. I always have. And I'm sure I always will.
"Just because of a phone conversation we had a few days ago?" she asks incredulously.
"Because you hate me, Miss Parker," I try to clarify for her. "Because that hate is hurting you. I can't stand that. I just want to know why. And then I'll go."
"Jarod," she sighs, rolling her eyes.
* * * * * * * * * *
Leave it to a genius to take a simple phone conversation and make things so complicated. I honestly don't see how it was any different from any other phone conversation that we've had in the past. I mean, other than me coming to the earth shattering conclusion that I may like him a little more than I've been letting on. But am I making a federal case about it? No. I'm keeping it to myself and dealing with it on my own. Why couldn't he have done the same? Why can't he see that leaving me will hurt me more than anything?
"Why?" he asks, his eyes pleading with me. Oh no. We're back to this again. I don't know which is worse, this 'hate' question or his 'I'm leaving' solution.
"Jarod," I say again. I think I'm actually whining. Can't he tell that I don't want to have this conversation?
"I just need to know. Why do you hate me?"
"Jarod, over the years, so much has gone on between us," I start. He's not going to let this go. So I'm just going to tell him and hope for the best. "For one thing, we're enemies. I chase you every day for a living. And you've led me down some paths I'd just as soon not go."
"We didn't used to be enemies," he pouts. "They made us. And I'm not just running from you every day. I'm running for answers for us. Those paths I lead you on are usually for your benefit."
"All the pranks, tricks, traps . . . do I need to go on?" I ask him, my eyebrow highly arched. He may have invalidated my last point, but I know I was justified this time.
"Consider it payback," he says with a small grin. "I think I learned most of those tricks from you when we were kids, Miss Parker."
"Oh," I blush. He's right. I admit to being a bit devilish back then. I should have figured that even if I didn't remember all the pranks I pulled, he would.
"Well, the phone calls," I throw out. "You always wake me up in the middle of the night. You know I hate that."
"I figured if you really didn't want to talk to me, then you wouldn't answer," he says sheepishly.
"Jarod!" I yell in frustration. "Why are you really here? Do you really want my reasons? Because it seems to me that you're just trying to refute them!"
"Miss Parker . . . " he tries to calm me down, but I don't even let him say anything else.
"No, Jarod. You want to know what I hated about you, and I told you. You just don't want to hear it. Now, get out, like you said you would. Just go. You seem to be good at that. I don't know why it's so hard for you to do it now. This is nothing new for you. Just turn around and leave me like you did all those years ago." My hand flies to my mouth and I see his eyes pop open so wide it was almost comical. I would have laughed if I hadn't managed to just completely humiliate myself.
"What did you just say?" he asks me when he can find his voice again. It's low and shaky. I'm sure mine would sound the same if I could actually speak right now. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying frantically for a hole or something to open up right now and swallow me up to another place and time. But seeing how this isn't a science fiction movie, my floor remains intact. I then hope that he just leaves, just walks out the door and pretends I never said anything. No such luck on that happening either.
"Miss Parker, look at me," he pleads. I feel his hand on my chin, tilting my head up. My eyes fall open, seemingly on their own, and I find myself staring into the rawest set of emotions I've ever seen in my life. I jump willingly into them, no longer caring about the distance I was trying to maintain.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I never left you, Miss Parker," I say in barely a whisper. She's so beautiful, she takes my breath away. Literally. I've never seen her so open and vulnerable. Her eyes were these huge, blue pools that offered me a glance straight into her soul. I could drown happily in those eyes, in her. I caress her cheek with my hand and she leans into the touch.
"Miss Parker, when your father sent you away to school, I waited everyday for you to return. But when you finally came back, it was as if you never knew me. You were so different. You looked at me with such contempt and disgust. I had to get away. But I wasn't trying to get away from you."
"But you were gone all the same," she snaps. She pulls out of my embrace and looks up at me with anger flashing in her eyes once again. "You left me there all alone. I hated that."
She starts pacing as the words flow effortlessly from her lips now. I just stand in silence, too afraid to do anything else. She was really, really mad this time.
"I hated that I was taken from a job I loved to chase your sorry butt all over creation. I hated that my reward was the one thing I wanted most in this world - my father's approval. But that kept on slipping through my fingers each time you got away. Everything was riding on me finding you, Jarod. My life, my happiness, my freedom. But to you it was all a joke. My life was just a joke to you!" she screams.
"That wasn't my intention," I swear to her. "I was just trying to find the truth. And I wanted to help lead you there as well."
"Help me?" she laughs. But something tells me she didn't find anything funny. It was a scary kind of cackle, actually. "Help me what? Help me ruin all my shoes chasing you around the country? Help me agonize so much that I ate a hole in my stomach? Help me learn to distrust my own family? Is that the kind of help you were trying to give me Jarod? Is it?"
I cringe at the impact her words make. I have ruined her life. I don't deny that. It's a wonder I'm still alive. She should have killed me a long time ago.
"Yes, I should have," she growls. I look up and realize stupidly that I've been mumbling my thoughts outloud.
"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I don't know what else I can say. I've made your life miserable. It's no wonder you hate me."
"That's just it, Jarod. Don't you get it?" she whispers. I can see tears glistening in her eyes and her voice tone gets much softer. "That's the most frustrating part of it all. That's the part I really hate. More than I hate you disappearing for months at a time. More than I hate how you make me worry when I don't hear from you. Or how lonely I feel after you hang up the phone after one of your midnight calls. The part I hate more than I hate the way that little mark on your cheek punctuates your smile or how kissable your lips look when you smirk at me."
She lifts her hand to gently stroke her fingers across my lips to emphasize her point. I just stand there looking like an idiot more than likely. I'm hearing her say hate. But I see something else entirely in her eyes. I look at her, anticipating her next words.
"What I hate about you, Jarod, is that I don't hate you at all," she says finally.
"Not even close," I mutter with a smile. Her words on the phone the other night finally make sense.
"Not even close," she smiles in return.
"So, if you don't hate me," I say, taking a step closer to her. "Then how do you feel about me?" I take another step until I'm standing just in front of her. The next move would have to be hers.
"Maybe this can answer your question," she says, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
I open my mouth, but before I can even ask her what she's talking about, I feel her lips against mine. They are gentle and probing all at the same time. Lush, soft, and succulent lips that move expertly across my own. A yielding, yet insistent tongue probing into all the dark recesses of my mouth and dancing across my lips. It's like she's trying to devour me whole. The kiss seems to last for an eternity until the need for air only slightly supercedes my thirst for her.
"Does that answer your question?" she pants after pulling away. All I can do is nod my head like one of those stupid bobble head statues you see in someone's car. After a kiss like that, my grasp on the english language is a bit tentative at best. There's only one thing I want to do with my mouth right now and talking ain't it.
I reach for her again and she comes eagerly into my arms, meeting me again for another searing kiss. This time, I'm able be more of an active participant. And I do a pretty good job, I think. She actually swooned. Can you believe that? I made Miss Parker all weak in the knees over me.
* * * * * * * * * *
I can't believe this is happening. And I can't believe that I cannot feel a bone in my body. This man sure can kiss. I struggle to maintain a grasp on reality. We can't go on like this. Don't get me wrong. I'd love for it to go on forever. But we can't take this any further. Not tonight, anyway. It would be a mistake tonight.
"Jarod," I sigh, a dreamy smile pasted on my face. I pull away from him and see the smug grin on his face. After a kiss like that, he certainly deserves it. I smile back at him and try to regain at least a little bit of control of this situation. "I guess I got my point across."
"And then some," he chuckles, pulling me into a hug. I could hear his laughter echoing inside his chest. "You answered my question perfectly."
"Good," I sigh, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck. He smells so good. I can't resist taking in a deep breath of his scent. It's a mixture of his cologne and the leather from his jacket. Eau de Jarod is what I'll call it. Too bad I can't bottle it. I'd make a fortune. "Because I'd hate for you to leave without knowing how I felt."
"Leave? Who's leaving? Now that I know you don't hate me, I'm not going anywhere, Miss Parker. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
"I think I can handle that," I smile. I can think of much worse things than spending the rest of my life with this man. My only regret is that we didn't do this sooner. We've wasted so much time. So much of our life is gone. We'll just have to make the most of the rest of it. I pull him closer to me and go to kiss him again, when he stops me just as our lips brush past each other.
"Oh, and Miss Parker?"
"What?" I groan somewhat impatiently. I was desperate for another taste of him.
"I love you, too." He smiles tenderly at me and completes the connection, fully capturing my lips with his own and giving me the sweetest kiss seasoned by the sweetest of words.
The end.
by Nicky
* * * * * * * * * *
I should have been expecting it. I really should have. After the phone call, I should have known he wouldn't be able to leave it alone. *I* couldn't leave it alone. So how could I expect him to? He wanted to know why I hated him. Over and over in my mind, I keep on hearing the hurt in his voice. And I keep on replaying the moment when I finally admitted to myself that what I feel for Jarod has pretty much nothing to do with hate. It was a wonder I was able to refrain from telling him. I guess it was easier when we were merely speaking, our conversation separated by only Jarod knows how many miles. But this is too much. How in the world am I going to be able to resist him now?
* * * * * * * * * *
She looks surprised for a minute. She wasn't expecting me. But she really should know better by now. I asked her a question on the phone the other day. Why does she hate me? She never really answered. I'm here for my answer. And then, I'll give her what she wants and leave her alone. No matter how hard that will be for me, she deserves a semi peaceful life. One without my annoyances and aggravation. I can't imagine my life without her. I don't even want to think of it right now. But if that's what she wants, that's the least I can do for her. That's actually the real reason I came over tonight. To say good-bye. To see her one last time.
* * * * * * * * * *
"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I try to maintain my edge. Maybe I'll be able to get him out of here without any damage to my usually intact icy exterior. Underneath, something's been churning since I last spoke with him, slowly melting away at my facade. If he stays too long . . .
"We've been playing this game for how long, Miss Parker?" he asks quietly. He stares at me with that wounded puppy dog look and I feel my body temperature rise even higher. Jarod has got to go and he's got to go now. That look is killing me.
"Jarod, you're the one playing games tonight," I sigh in faux exasperation. "Why don't you just tell me what you want and then leave. I'm exhausted and unless you plan on coming peacefully to the Centre with me, I'm not in the mood for whatever trouble it would cause me tonight. Just say what you want and then go." Okay, that was a bit rude, but I hope he got the message.
"Okay," he says, nodding his head. "You told me you hated me. I just want to know why. And then you won't have to worry about me causing you trouble again. Not tonight. Not ever," he adds with a whisper.
"What do you mean?" I hear myself ask him before I can even think about the words coming out of my mouth. My curiosity gets the better of me. I shouldn't be falling for this, but something tells me this is far from a game for him. Something in his eyes is different. He seems resolved about something. I don't know what it is, but I don't think I'm going to like it.
"Hate is a horrible emotion. If you're feeling that, then I know it's eating away at you and hurting you. I don't want that. I don't want you to hate me. I'm going so that you can't hate me anymore. I'm leaving so that I can't hurt you anymore."
Oh. Once again, Jarod's over exuberant sense of justice rears its ugly head. He's trying to save me. I just look at him, unsure of what to say at this moment.
* * * * * * * * * *
She kind of just looks at me for a minute, her mouth hanging open in a silent 'oh'.
"You're leaving?" she finally says. "For good? This is good-
bye?"
I nod. I'm afraid if I try to speak now, I'll just start blubbering and crying like a big baby. I never thought this day would come. The last day I'd ever see her. I tried to prepare for it. I tried to sim the direction the conversation would go. But not even that prepared me for the heartache of actually having to walk away from the only woman I've ever loved. Yes, that's right. Love. I love her. I always have. And I'm sure I always will.
"Just because of a phone conversation we had a few days ago?" she asks incredulously.
"Because you hate me, Miss Parker," I try to clarify for her. "Because that hate is hurting you. I can't stand that. I just want to know why. And then I'll go."
"Jarod," she sighs, rolling her eyes.
* * * * * * * * * *
Leave it to a genius to take a simple phone conversation and make things so complicated. I honestly don't see how it was any different from any other phone conversation that we've had in the past. I mean, other than me coming to the earth shattering conclusion that I may like him a little more than I've been letting on. But am I making a federal case about it? No. I'm keeping it to myself and dealing with it on my own. Why couldn't he have done the same? Why can't he see that leaving me will hurt me more than anything?
"Why?" he asks, his eyes pleading with me. Oh no. We're back to this again. I don't know which is worse, this 'hate' question or his 'I'm leaving' solution.
"Jarod," I say again. I think I'm actually whining. Can't he tell that I don't want to have this conversation?
"I just need to know. Why do you hate me?"
"Jarod, over the years, so much has gone on between us," I start. He's not going to let this go. So I'm just going to tell him and hope for the best. "For one thing, we're enemies. I chase you every day for a living. And you've led me down some paths I'd just as soon not go."
"We didn't used to be enemies," he pouts. "They made us. And I'm not just running from you every day. I'm running for answers for us. Those paths I lead you on are usually for your benefit."
"All the pranks, tricks, traps . . . do I need to go on?" I ask him, my eyebrow highly arched. He may have invalidated my last point, but I know I was justified this time.
"Consider it payback," he says with a small grin. "I think I learned most of those tricks from you when we were kids, Miss Parker."
"Oh," I blush. He's right. I admit to being a bit devilish back then. I should have figured that even if I didn't remember all the pranks I pulled, he would.
"Well, the phone calls," I throw out. "You always wake me up in the middle of the night. You know I hate that."
"I figured if you really didn't want to talk to me, then you wouldn't answer," he says sheepishly.
"Jarod!" I yell in frustration. "Why are you really here? Do you really want my reasons? Because it seems to me that you're just trying to refute them!"
"Miss Parker . . . " he tries to calm me down, but I don't even let him say anything else.
"No, Jarod. You want to know what I hated about you, and I told you. You just don't want to hear it. Now, get out, like you said you would. Just go. You seem to be good at that. I don't know why it's so hard for you to do it now. This is nothing new for you. Just turn around and leave me like you did all those years ago." My hand flies to my mouth and I see his eyes pop open so wide it was almost comical. I would have laughed if I hadn't managed to just completely humiliate myself.
"What did you just say?" he asks me when he can find his voice again. It's low and shaky. I'm sure mine would sound the same if I could actually speak right now. I squeeze my eyes shut, praying frantically for a hole or something to open up right now and swallow me up to another place and time. But seeing how this isn't a science fiction movie, my floor remains intact. I then hope that he just leaves, just walks out the door and pretends I never said anything. No such luck on that happening either.
"Miss Parker, look at me," he pleads. I feel his hand on my chin, tilting my head up. My eyes fall open, seemingly on their own, and I find myself staring into the rawest set of emotions I've ever seen in my life. I jump willingly into them, no longer caring about the distance I was trying to maintain.
* * * * * * * * * *
"I never left you, Miss Parker," I say in barely a whisper. She's so beautiful, she takes my breath away. Literally. I've never seen her so open and vulnerable. Her eyes were these huge, blue pools that offered me a glance straight into her soul. I could drown happily in those eyes, in her. I caress her cheek with my hand and she leans into the touch.
"Miss Parker, when your father sent you away to school, I waited everyday for you to return. But when you finally came back, it was as if you never knew me. You were so different. You looked at me with such contempt and disgust. I had to get away. But I wasn't trying to get away from you."
"But you were gone all the same," she snaps. She pulls out of my embrace and looks up at me with anger flashing in her eyes once again. "You left me there all alone. I hated that."
She starts pacing as the words flow effortlessly from her lips now. I just stand in silence, too afraid to do anything else. She was really, really mad this time.
"I hated that I was taken from a job I loved to chase your sorry butt all over creation. I hated that my reward was the one thing I wanted most in this world - my father's approval. But that kept on slipping through my fingers each time you got away. Everything was riding on me finding you, Jarod. My life, my happiness, my freedom. But to you it was all a joke. My life was just a joke to you!" she screams.
"That wasn't my intention," I swear to her. "I was just trying to find the truth. And I wanted to help lead you there as well."
"Help me?" she laughs. But something tells me she didn't find anything funny. It was a scary kind of cackle, actually. "Help me what? Help me ruin all my shoes chasing you around the country? Help me agonize so much that I ate a hole in my stomach? Help me learn to distrust my own family? Is that the kind of help you were trying to give me Jarod? Is it?"
I cringe at the impact her words make. I have ruined her life. I don't deny that. It's a wonder I'm still alive. She should have killed me a long time ago.
"Yes, I should have," she growls. I look up and realize stupidly that I've been mumbling my thoughts outloud.
"I'm sorry," I apologize. "I don't know what else I can say. I've made your life miserable. It's no wonder you hate me."
"That's just it, Jarod. Don't you get it?" she whispers. I can see tears glistening in her eyes and her voice tone gets much softer. "That's the most frustrating part of it all. That's the part I really hate. More than I hate you disappearing for months at a time. More than I hate how you make me worry when I don't hear from you. Or how lonely I feel after you hang up the phone after one of your midnight calls. The part I hate more than I hate the way that little mark on your cheek punctuates your smile or how kissable your lips look when you smirk at me."
She lifts her hand to gently stroke her fingers across my lips to emphasize her point. I just stand there looking like an idiot more than likely. I'm hearing her say hate. But I see something else entirely in her eyes. I look at her, anticipating her next words.
"What I hate about you, Jarod, is that I don't hate you at all," she says finally.
"Not even close," I mutter with a smile. Her words on the phone the other night finally make sense.
"Not even close," she smiles in return.
"So, if you don't hate me," I say, taking a step closer to her. "Then how do you feel about me?" I take another step until I'm standing just in front of her. The next move would have to be hers.
"Maybe this can answer your question," she says, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
I open my mouth, but before I can even ask her what she's talking about, I feel her lips against mine. They are gentle and probing all at the same time. Lush, soft, and succulent lips that move expertly across my own. A yielding, yet insistent tongue probing into all the dark recesses of my mouth and dancing across my lips. It's like she's trying to devour me whole. The kiss seems to last for an eternity until the need for air only slightly supercedes my thirst for her.
"Does that answer your question?" she pants after pulling away. All I can do is nod my head like one of those stupid bobble head statues you see in someone's car. After a kiss like that, my grasp on the english language is a bit tentative at best. There's only one thing I want to do with my mouth right now and talking ain't it.
I reach for her again and she comes eagerly into my arms, meeting me again for another searing kiss. This time, I'm able be more of an active participant. And I do a pretty good job, I think. She actually swooned. Can you believe that? I made Miss Parker all weak in the knees over me.
* * * * * * * * * *
I can't believe this is happening. And I can't believe that I cannot feel a bone in my body. This man sure can kiss. I struggle to maintain a grasp on reality. We can't go on like this. Don't get me wrong. I'd love for it to go on forever. But we can't take this any further. Not tonight, anyway. It would be a mistake tonight.
"Jarod," I sigh, a dreamy smile pasted on my face. I pull away from him and see the smug grin on his face. After a kiss like that, he certainly deserves it. I smile back at him and try to regain at least a little bit of control of this situation. "I guess I got my point across."
"And then some," he chuckles, pulling me into a hug. I could hear his laughter echoing inside his chest. "You answered my question perfectly."
"Good," I sigh, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck. He smells so good. I can't resist taking in a deep breath of his scent. It's a mixture of his cologne and the leather from his jacket. Eau de Jarod is what I'll call it. Too bad I can't bottle it. I'd make a fortune. "Because I'd hate for you to leave without knowing how I felt."
"Leave? Who's leaving? Now that I know you don't hate me, I'm not going anywhere, Miss Parker. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
"I think I can handle that," I smile. I can think of much worse things than spending the rest of my life with this man. My only regret is that we didn't do this sooner. We've wasted so much time. So much of our life is gone. We'll just have to make the most of the rest of it. I pull him closer to me and go to kiss him again, when he stops me just as our lips brush past each other.
"Oh, and Miss Parker?"
"What?" I groan somewhat impatiently. I was desperate for another taste of him.
"I love you, too." He smiles tenderly at me and completes the connection, fully capturing my lips with his own and giving me the sweetest kiss seasoned by the sweetest of words.
The end.
