Jake's Regret

CW: Sensitive content

“Hey, Henry. I see you got me something hot to drink on this frosty morning. And I like this back booth by the kitchen. Warmer.”

“Not only that, Jake, it’s your favorite hot chocolate with a sprinkle of cinnamon added. Plus, some nutmeg and another ingredient. It’s my personal favorite.”

“Yeah. Ouch. It sure is hot, and I taste several things in here. Not sure I’ve ever had anything exactly like this.”

“Probably not.”

“Hey. You surprised me with the invite. I thought you’d ghosted me and were on the chill, because… well… you know.”

“I’m not one to hold a grudge. Besides, we’ve known each other since first grade at Mt. Brook Elementary, and just because of what happened is not a reason we can’t share a hot drink together on a frosty morning before school. I mean, we’re seniors and in a few months the world’s ahead of us, right?”

“Yep, glad you see it that way. From what I could tell, you and Peggy weren’t all that serious about each other. I mean, if you were, she wouldn’t have dated me and then become my steady, now would she?”

“Suppose not.”

“You know, Henry, you should try out for the spring baseball team. It’s not as physical as football, and you ought to enjoy at least one sport before you finish Jefferson High.”

“Naw, I don’t think so. I spend my afternoons in the chemistry lab helping lower-grade students for extra credit, and I enjoy it.”

“Man, you’ve made straight A’s. You don’t need extra credit.”

“I want it, and I even work into the evenings when I’m all alone. As the lab assistant, I have keys to everything… everything. I think even you, Jake, might be amazed at some of the rare compounds I have to work with.”

“I’d be scared with all those acids and chemicals that are even harmful to breathe. My intro to chemistry as a sophomore was all I wanted.”

“Yes, some of the strongest acids and bases in pure form. If you stuck your finger into a beaker full of the super-acid known as fluoroantimonic acid—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. You love your chemistry. You could melt a brain with a look. But don’t go naming apocalypse juices at me.”

“No need to panic. I was making a point.”

“Right. Right. No point in getting worked up. My hot chocolate’s doing a number on me, though. Feels… different again. Warm in my stomach. Weird.”

“Good. That’s working.”

“You... you’re kidding?”

“Not at all. I’m not a kid, Jake. I’m tired of hearing about what you take and what you leave behind.”

“You mean Peggy.”

“Yes. Peggy. Her laugh. The way she rolled her eyes when you tried acting tough. She was my future, you know. I had plans.”

“You had plans? Really? Since when does the quiet chemistry nerd have plans other than equations and 3 a.m. beakers?”

“Since I stopped imagining a life that excluded what I wanted,” Henry said softly. “Since I realized some people take what they want and call it by someone else’s name.”

“So this is about jealousy? You revenge on me because you couldn’t say it?”

“It’s about consequence, Jake. People should weigh what they do before they do it.”

“You think what you did—this—is justice?”

“I think people should feel what they cause. I think theft should ache in the thief’s bones.”

“My bones… they ache now. My head’s heavy. My eyes are fuzzy.”

“That’s the settling. The warmth will turn to sleep. There’s a small mercy in being spared long suffering.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk like that. There are people—my mom—”

“She will grieve, then mend. People mend, Jake. They always do. Not everyone makes the same mistakes twice.”

“You could just tell Peggy the truth. Confess to her. Be a man. Face what you did.”

“You sound like you’re auditioning for repentance.”

“I’ll—I'll fix it. I’ll tell her. Tonight. I swear.”

“You should have fixed it when you had the chance. Promises made in panic don’t undo what’s already done.”

“My phone—”

“Can you reach it?”

“I’m trying. My hands are numb.”

“Pity. You always bragged about how you could text a girl’s heart into your palms. Now the mechanics betray you.”

“Henry, please—call somebody. Call a teacher, call the manager—someone. I can cough it out or puke it up.”

“Do you really think I would sit across from you with tea and cinnamon and then let you ruin everything by puking? That would be messy. I prefer tidy endings.”

“No. No. I can go to the hospital. I can explain—tell them I ate something bad.”

“And then what? You’ll be on machines, hooked up, a dozen people poking at you, asking questions. Tell them you drank a new cocoa mix? Will you tell them who served it?”

“My friends—someone. They’ll explain.”

“You stole Peggy, Jake. Friends don’t fix that.”

“You could still—let me go. Pay you. Do anything. I can give you cash, whatever. Money?”

“Money doesn’t make memories unmade. It lubricates guilt, maybe, but it doesn’t erase what you feel.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—”

“No. Sorry is easy. Sorry is a blanket. But I wanted...”

“You wanted what, Henry? To ruin me?”

“I wanted to make you still. Make you pause. Make you silent and consider what you took.”

“You could have talked. Could have asked. Could have...”

“I did try to talk. You laughed at equations. You chose her. You left me to write notes to myself on the margins of my textbook, Jake.”

“That’s pathetic.”

“Maybe. But here we are. You slurped my drink, smiled, and now you lean like a man who’s had his wind taken. Your eyes roll. Your speech thins.”

“Don’t—please don’t make it sound pretty.”

“I’m not making it pretty. I’m making it final.”

“My mother—if—if I die...”

“You’re not dead yet.”

“Call someone. There’s a cook in back. She’d help. She’d...”

“She’ll take your tray, Jake. Watch her hands. She’s quick. She has no reason to see what lingered in your cup.”

“No—no. I won’t...”

“Then sleep. Rest. Close your mouth and stop fighting. You were always such good entertainment when you tried to be brave.”

“Henry—my throat...”

“Settle down. Lie your head down. People weep. People learn. You will be a lesson.”

“My lungs... can’t...”

“Breathe. Good. Breathe until you can’t. Let the warmth pull you into whatever dream you deserve.”

“Why—why would you do this?”

“Because after middle school, after high school, I wanted someone steady. Someone who would not take what wasn’t offered. You choosing her was a choice to make me small, Jake.”

“You could have left. Walked away.”

“I did not choose indifference. I chose consequence.”

“My eyes—closing—”

“Let them close, then. Close your eyes and feel the stillness you bestowed on others so easily.”

“No—no—”

“Easy now. Put your forehead on the table. Sleep, Jake. Sleep a long sleep. Remember Peggy, remember the flavor of your treachery, and let that memory be a teacher.”

"I... I...”

“Good. Mind the warm steam on your face. Smell the cinnamon. Think of the snow outside. Dream of the ballpark you never played in, the girl you hurt, the choices you made. Rest now.”

“Henry...”

“Hush. Hush, and let the last thing you hear be something you earned.”

"umm..."

“Tomorrow, some new joke, some other excuse. But today—today you are quiet.”

“…mmph…”

“Sleep.”