Chapter Sixty Two: Can’t Stand Losing You

Based on all objective evidence, nature appeared to be empathic to the heavy pall encasing the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. It would have been easy to hold a certain white-haired weather goddess accountable for the phenomena. Although she had gained a high level of control over her abilities over the years, they were often subjected to the state of her emotions. Given the devastating loss she and others had experienced in recent days, one could easily see the correlation between the resulting grief and current conditions. There was possibly a part of her that entreated the elements to weep alongside her. Despite the collective suspicions of the mansion’s residents, no one ever raised the issue with Storm. Relative to the events that transpired within the past several days, the nature of the weather was rather trivial.

This early morning found two young women wandering the palatial grounds of the estate during a rare respite from the rain. The well-maintained gardens were reminiscent of those found in Nottinghamshire, where the Professor still maintained a country home. Even under the ominous clouds, the landscape design presented an idealized view of nature, inspired by works of artists such as Claude Lorraine and Nicolas Poussin. Around nearby Breakstone Lake, sweeps of gently rolling, manicured lawns were set against groves of many different types of trees. There were also shrubberies with gravelled walks and skirts of various flowers in sweeping planted beds. Several feet away from Storm’s glass greenhouse was an elaborate hedge maze, where many of the students often met in order to seek some private moments away from the prying eyes of their peers and some teachers.

Paige pulled the flame-coloured day coat around her slender form, shivering slightly. It had been the younger Guthrie’s idea to take a stroll around the grounds while the students were still eating breakfast. Walking past a row of cherry trees, she was wishing she had worn something a little warmer underneath than her black-and-white striped, boatneck T-shirt, brown stretch pants, and leopard-print loafers.

“Brisk air is overrated, Hayseed,” Jubilee groused, regretting her own choice in outfit—a chartreuse velvet blazer over a blousy, denim shirt, dark-washed flare jeans, and taupe flats. As another gust of wind rippled by, she was also lamenting her decision to wear her long, black tresses with midnight highlights in a half-ponytail. Her cheeks and forehead were already stinging from the chill. “The next time you want to embrace the great outdoors, remind me to smack you.”

“Not if I smack myself first,” the blonde replied wryly, peering over her shoulder and contemplating turning around. It was startling how much ground they had covered already. From a distance, the mansion resembled one of those dollhouses she and her sisters would admire in the shop windows of their native Kentucky. “Do you want to head back and grab our coats?”

Following her friend’s gaze, Jubilee bit her lower lip. Part of her was inclined to take up Paige on the offer. With the wind whipping through her hair and across her face, the prospect of tossing on another layer was tempting. However, that would require trudging back to the mansion. Several feet from a thicket of stately Douglas fir, she paused in her steps and shook her head no.

It was not the trek that was necessarily daunting. Rather, her hesitation stemmed from persistent feelings of despair and suffocation that seemed to permeate throughout the halls as of late. She could sense it from the faces of the students, staff, and field team members through their grief-stricken and awestruck expressions; the whispers, uncertain and somewhat facetious reassurances that life would return as it once was, and stifled bouts of crying; and the smell of alcohol that wafted around Scott these days. Having had experienced these phenomena in her every waking moment, the physical discomfort of being cold was minor in comparison. At least by being outside, she could feel something other than her own heartbreak.

The night of Jean’s death continued to haunt Jubilee in the days that followed. Similar to Logan and Scott, she felt a certain degree of culpability in what transpired. Despite reassurances from the two men and arguments from the rational portion of her brain, the young firecracker believed she could have done something to save Jean Grey. Of the three on the ground, Jubilee was the one who was capable of intervening. Her training under Logan and later, Emma, had prepared her for the analysis and the execution of action regarding similar scenarios. But that night was different. The stakes were much higher, where the life of a beloved figure was hanging in the balance. Ultimately, it was Jubilee’s indecision that prevailed, forcing her to question aloud what her next move should be. Granted, the situation during those last few moments was very precarious. With Jean being held at gunpoint aboard the helicopter and the surge of adrenaline pumping through Jubilee’s veins, it was difficult to determine the accuracy of a potential blast. The young firecracker’s emotional state was another factor to consider with respect to the intensity of the plasmoids. The fear that seized her threatened to undermine the control she had gained over her abilities. Immediately striking out meant there was a realistic chance that she could have struck Jean, severely injuring her or worse. Reflecting upon those last seconds before the explosion, Jubilee now cursed her hesitation.

In the wake of Jean’s loss, Jubilee felt compelled to do what she could to keep together what was left of the household. To her, it was a way to introduce some semblance of stability into an otherwise chaotic situation. For the first two days, she rarely left Scott’s side and even stayed with him in the emergency living quarters. She was the one who persuaded him to sleep, reminded him to shower, and took it upon herself to ensure that he was eating properly. His protestations against what he construed as coddling were weak, having spent most of his energy mourning and attempting to focus on the ensuing investigation. Moreover, he was all too aware that once Jubilee had her mind set upon something, there was very little anyone could do to change the course. Exhausted and taxed beyond belief, Scott was forced to acquiesce to her doting.

Admittedly, it was difficult to watch him in the throes of mourning. Much like Logan, Scott strove to portray himself as the epitome of steadfast strength. Even when he was angry, there was always an unshakable composure about him. It was this calm that allowed him to divorce his emotions from his ability to reason. Any sign of this Scott Summers disappeared after that tragic evening. The man taking his place struggled to wear his usual mask of diffidence, which was cracking with each passing second. In front of other people, he tried desperately to conceal his grief. It was only when he believed he had some privacy did he allow himself to break down.

Jubilee became aware of this during their second night in the emergency living quarters. She was beginning to drift to sleep when she heard the sounds of muffled sobbing emanating from nearby. Startled, the young firecracker turned over on her side, towards the direction of the crying. In the dim lighting of the corridor outside, Jubilee was surprised when she saw Scott sitting up in the cot adjacent to hers. Shoulders hunched over, he buried his head in his hands as he rocked back and forth. For a moment, she thought she heard his voice whisper the words, “I’m sorry, Jean” before dissolving into another series of sorrow-ridden sounds. Before she could approach him, Scott had already made his way into the hallway and towards the Ready Room.

Unfortunately, this was not the only piece of evidence accounting for Scott’s fragile psychological state. It was becoming clear that he was at the mercy of his emotions, allowing them to dictate his behaviour with great unpredictability. One minute, he could be distant and seemingly Stoic and then the next minute, frustrated to the point of rage or tears. Jubilee immediately thought of the incident in the Ready Room. Somehow, an innocuous conversation about picking Jean’s parents from the train station triggered an intense reaction. Even now, she could still feel his arms tightly holding onto her to the point where her ribs were being compressed into her lungs. His words of atonement and lamentation were becoming unintelligible to her ears as she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. Had Alex not intervened, Jubilee was quite sure she would have passed out.

What was even more disturbing was Scott’s preference to seek comfort from a bottle rather than let those close to him provide solace. The possibility of a drinking problem was beginning to be raised among team members. There were allegations of empty bottles littering one of the rooms on Sub-Basement Level Two, Scott sneaking sips from a flask, and somewhat hindered motor coordination. Initially, Jubilee did not want to believe any of it. Having lived with an alcoholic foster mother during her younger days, she was very confident she knew the signs of abuse. In fact, she tried to rationalize his behaviour within the context of his loss. That is, the drinking was simply a reaction to his bereavement and would become less problematic once the intensity of these feelings lessened. Yet, as the days passed, Jubilee was starting to reconsider her previous position. There was a growing part of her that reasoned that while Scott was entitled to his emotions and his right to express them, he still had his obligations to the school, to the teams, and to Jean. His drinking was interfering with his ability to focus on any of these things, and threatened to undermine his role as a leader.

However, she was not completely convinced of these counterarguments until that day in the Ready Room. Prior to the incident, Scott had rebuffed offers of any physical demonstrations of comfort. It was incongruous given his propensity to be affectionate towards Jubilee. Hurtful as it was to receive this treatment, she surmised it was probably hard for him to tolerate any type of closeness at this point in time. But when he grabbed her and broke down in tears, she realized this Scott was in trouble. The strong smell of alcohol on his breath, the slurring of his words, and his lack of awareness in regards to what he was doing at the time were all signs she could no longer dismiss or ignore.

After confiding in Alex, Jubilee sought to have her own conversation with Scott about what happened. It was not only important for her to inform him of her growing concern and reiterate her availability as a source of support, but also to frame the message appropriately and effectively. Since the return of most of the teams, Scott had been involved in several verbal altercations. He had lashed out at individuals whom he perceived as pitying him. This group seemed to include just about everyone, from Kurt to Storm. Mindful of this, Jubilee was prepared to choose her words carefully. When she finally approached him after dropping off Jean’s parents at their hotel, Scott appeared to be preoccupied with something else—something unrelated to his late wife, the attack on their home, or his interpersonal difficulties around the mansion. No, whatever was weighing heavily upon his mind evoked a reaction that was vastly different than what had been witnessed previously. His ire was more focused, as if it had a definite target to aim towards.

It was later that evening she learned of what was fuelled his anger.

She was riding the elevator car from Sub-Basement Level Two to the second floor in order to meet up with Paige before dinner. Following the younger Guthrie’s return, the former Generation Xers found themselves sharing a room once again. Both Paige and Scott were insistent that the emergency living quarters would not continue to be an option. Despite her reservations about straying from Scott’s immediate line of vision, Jubilee was relieved with the offer. Rooming with her best friend allowed her some reprieve from the stress related to her new caregiver role.

Jubilee remembered exiting the elevator when she heard music playing faintly from down the hall. Intrigued, her feet began to carry her towards the direction of the source, which was several doors down from Paige’s room. As she made her way over, there were aspects of the situation that were hauntingly familiar. The song playing was one of her favourite tracks from Wilco’s Sky Blue Sky album. While most of her friends knew her appreciation for the band, there was only one person who was aware of her partiality towards that particular song. When Jubilee located the room from which the music was emanating from, her suspicions had been confirmed.

Bobby.

Suddenly, Jubilee became overwhelmed by memories that were intricately bound to a range of emotions that conflicted with one another—from complete happiness to complete heartbreak. Pulse racing wildly, she raised a trembling hand over her mouth. She could feel her throat constrict slightly, which made it difficult to breathe. Her stomach was fluttering and her head was spinning. Feeling more and more out of sorts, Jubilee was forced to step away from the door, pressing her back against the wall opposite from it.

Once she had been able to compose herself, she crept towards the mahogany door. Trepidation surged through her veins as she racked her brain for the next logical step. How was she going to approach this? What would she say? More importantly, would he even be receptive to hearing her out? She mulled over these questions carefully while willing herself not to lose her nerve. No matter how high her anxiety was at that moment, Jubilee was aware she needed to speak to him.

Confusion, tears, and devastation characterized the last time she had seen Bobby. While Jubilee was quick to acknowledge her role in their current difficulties, she did not in any way expect for him to behave as he did during her visit. He had been antithetical to the man she knew and fell in love with—aloof, indifferent, and quick to condemn. His decision to turn his back on their time together continued to leave her reeling. It was completely contradictory to the declarations he had made to her about how important their relationship was to him. Not too long ago, they had talked about the future as a couple, including the possibility of moving in together, and starting a family some day. He swore to her that it would always be the two of them in this world. Hearing Bobby’s words echo inside her mind, it seemed those things were gone and lost forever.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jubes.”

With time to reflect on what transpired in Long Island and the tragic events in Westchester, Jubilee was able to gather her thoughts. She tried pushed aside her disbelief, hurt, and misery in order to engage in some deductive reasoning. It was her only recourse to make sense of everything that had happened. Bobby was under a great deal of strain, as evident in his haggard appearance and detached demeanour towards her. For her to arrive at his parents’ home unannounced while bearing news must have been difficult for him to process and comprehend. Given this, it was possible that his overall exhaustion limited the psychological resources needed for him to think rationally. His decision might have then been borne out of impulsivity rather than serious deliberation. Therefore, it was probable that he had not meant what he had said. Such a conclusion allowed context to be provided in a situation that seemed so unusual. Even more important was that it gave Jubilee a glimmer of hope. This newfound sense of optimism spurred her into action. She knew what she had to do.

She was going to fight for him.

She was going to fight for them.

Taking a deep breath, Jubilee drew her hand from the lower half of her face and curled her fingers into a fist. Then she reached out, tentatively rapping against the wood. Her cerulean eyes widened in surprise once her skin met the surface. Instinctively, she pulled back.

It was cold.

Bone-chillingly cold.

Jubilee remembered feeling perplexed as she stood in front of Bobby’s door. Her gaze was fixated on the barrier between her and his room. Then she reached out and ran her hand over the wood. What met her touch was icy, almost as if the wood itself was frozen. While Bobby’s preference for cooler temperatures was a well-known fact around the mansion, this was certainly new.

When there was no response, she became increasingly concerned. Various scenarios depicting what was happening on the other side of the door suddenly flashed through her mind. With none of these hypothetical situations being all that good, her apprehension was raised exponentially. Again, she knocked but this time, Jubilee managed to do so with more force in order to produce a firmer sound. She also called out to Bobby, identifying herself in the process. Inwardly, she prayed that he was fine and that he would open the door—even if it was to turn her away. Anything would have been better than the sense of uncertainty and fear gnawing away at her. Her shoulders sank when her entreaties went unanswered.

Just as she was about to tap at the door for a third time, a hand tugged at her shoulder. Startled, Jubilee whipped around and found herself staring up at Alex Summers. Worry lines were etched into his tanned face, framing a grim mouth and blue-green eyes. Silently, he took her wrist and guided her away from Bobby’s door. She gave him a confused look, withdrawing her arm from his grasp before studying him with a wide-eyed, crystalline gaze. Within a matter of seconds, Jubilee was able to decipher what motivated this strange encounter.

He knew.

This realization soon led to the discovery of another one.

Scott knew.

After both pieces of information sank in, she took a long, hard look at Bobby’s door. She had been desperately wishing that he would open the door, proving the Summers brothers wrong. Jubilee still remembered their collective wariness over her involvement with Bobby, involving separate conversations expressing concern about the relationship. To be standing in front of them while Bobby continued to ignore her was more than she could bear. It only served to reinforce how right they were and to a greater degree, how incredibly flawed her judgment had been. Humiliated, Jubilee had decided to flee rather than engage Alex in a lengthy discussion about Bobby. She was the one who had become mentally exhausted for talking.

Since learning of Bobby’s return to the mansion, Jubilee made numerous attempts to speak with him. She tried stopping by his room again but was dismayed when confronted with the same result. Text and voicemail messages asking him to meet with her went unanswered. Hopes of catching him in the dining hall during meals were dashed after two days of arriving early and waiting until the last student emptied his or her tray. It had taken gentle cajoling from Paige and surprisingly, Tabitha, to pry her away from the table.

There were also instances in the hallways where they would pass by each other. At first, she did not recognize him. Bobby looked as if he lost some weight and his face was pale and drawn, making his face appear harder and older. He wore his purple-tinted sunglasses constantly now, hiding his grey eyes. His mouth, which she remembered as being perpetually grinning, was now permanently fixed in a grimace. It was painful sight to behold.

Once she recovered from the shock of his transformation that first time, Jubilee repeatedly tried to approach him. Doing so proved to be rather difficult. Initially, he would pretend as if he did not see her. However, this was quickly abandoned when others standing nearby or walking with him would stop to greet her. Subsequent to this, he would then acknowledge her with a curt nod. Stopping him was made even more challenging since he was rarely alone. Often, he was accompanied by another team member to discuss issues related to the students or the investigation. Alternatively, she found herself engaged as well, either with a team mate or student. While Jubilee was not keen on approaching him in front of another party, her options were becoming limited. She needed to do this.

Last night, she believed she had her chance. Upon completing bed checks, Jubilee and Paige were making their way to their room when they ran into Bobby and Lorna. Cursory greetings were exchanged as was brief small talk (primarily between Paige and Lorna) prior to an awkward silence descending upon all of them. After what seemed like eons, Jubilee seized the opportunity. In a quiet but firm voice, she asked Bobby for a moment alone to talk. She remembered as she made her request, feeling as if there were so much depending on his answer. It unnerved her how terribly nervous she was, how she was ready to explode from all the adrenaline coursing throughout her entire being.

But this was replaced with disappointment once he told her no in a voice that was without any emotion before walking away.

Seeing her best friend’s dejected expression, Paige knew where the other young woman’s thoughts had drifted towards. She placed a sympathetic hand on Jubilee’s arm. “How are you doing?” she asked.

Cerulean eyes widened in surprise as the reverie faded. She instantly recognized the look of concern in the younger Guthrie’s face. In spite of the years that passed since their Generation X days, Paige’s devotion to their friendship never wavered. The blonde metamorph had been a great source of support during these weary times. She was a trusted confidante, acting a sounding board and providing (albeit somewhat biased given her loyalties) advice. With Logan on mission in Madripoor and Scott treading the dark waters of anguish for his sanity, Paige was a beacon of stability for Jubilee.

A small smile graced her red mouth as she replied, “I think I’ve had better days.”

Paige chewed her lower lip nervously. She was cognizant of the toll the past several days had taken on her friend. Losing Jean was akin to a parent dying, an experience Jubilee was unfortunately familiar with. The two had forged a close bond, reflecting a dynamic that satisfied both of their respective needs. For Jean, Jubilee was the child she and Scott were contemplating of having whereas for the young firecracker, Jean provided the maternal care that had been missing since her youth in California. When the telepath died, it was as if Jubilee lost her mother all over again. Although her friend did not frame the loss in that manner, it was clear to Paige how deeply affected Jubilee was.

Complicating the bereavement process was the newfound responsibility of looking after Scott. Although there had been no explicit demands from him to undertake this task, Jubilee simply obliged in some sort of familial loyalty. From what Paige was able to discern, the experience was challenging and exhausting for her friend. Scott, in the midst of processing his own feelings of culpability and grief, was becoming erratic in his behaviour. At times, he was quite docile, allowing Jubilee to dote on him. Other times, he was insistent that he could fend for himself. In fact, he was the one who strongly urged her to room with Paige so that she could start towards the path of normalcy. Furthermore, there were rumours among team members and staff of his growing reliance on alcohol. Warren relayed an incident that occurred yesterday, where he had picked up a flask that had fallen out of Scott’s pocket while they were walking towards Cerebro.

What struck the younger Guthrie as being quite damaging was the sudden end of Jubilee’s relationship with Bobby. She, like most people who knew of their involvement, had been under the impression that they were together in bliss. In fact, in all the years she knew Jubilee, her time with Bobby was the happiest she had ever seen her. It was a connection that made sense given their common interests, sense of humour, and their former roles as being the youngest on their respective teams. And yet, there was something intangible about their bond that neither Paige nor anyone outside of the relationship could thoroughly comprehend. It transcended their similarities, giving way to a shared understanding between them. For Bobby to abruptly disavow all of that was shocking to say the least. Having heard the details of the break-up from Jubilee, Paige was at a loss. Her bewilderment was intensified after witnessing his cold snub the night before. Although she did not know Bobby well, she never thought he could be capable of such despicable behaviour. Certainly, it flew in the face of all the glowing things her friend had to say about him. The man who met them in the hallway that evening was not worthy of Jubilee’s affections, tears, and ongoing angst. This was a contemptible person whose cruelty came about unprovoked. It had taken some talking down from Warren and a crying Jubilee to refrain Paige from confronting Bobby herself.

As distressing as this was, Paige suspected there was another variable involved in the equation. When Jubilee told her of the events that transpired on Thanksgiving, the blonde metamorph could not help but feel stunned. As the only person aware of Sam’s feelings for her friend, she had been the one to gently point out the young woman’s unavailability. At the same time, Paige felt her heart go out to her older brother, who seemed intent on torturing himself for his yearnings. Prior to his departure to Madripoor, she had tried to convince him of the rashness of his decision. However, the tormented expression in his pale eyes spoke volumes as to why he had to leave. Given this, the younger Guthrie had been inclined to feel some anger on his behalf. Even though Jubilee was oblivious to Sam’s feelings, there was a part of Paige that viewed the kiss as a rather callous thing to do.

However, her resentment dissipated once the young firecracker confessed the inner turmoil she experienced following that night. With great candour, Jubilee told her friend about the conflicted feelings she had towards the kiss and Sam. Specifically, she detailed her constant ruminations about what happened between them. On one hand, Jubilee said she felt incredibly guilty, where thoughts of hurting Bobby and confusing Sam wracked her constantly. She hated herself for inflicting such pain on both men. And yet, on the other hand, what started out as an impulsive act meant to put that bully in his place, transformed into something else that affected weeks following the kiss. The young firecracker confided in her friend that she found herself fixated by it, her mind replaying the event over and over again in spite of her efforts not to do so. She also relayed to Paige the other feelings that fuelled her ambivalence being around Sam, including a fear that it something similar would occur.

When she first listened to her friend discuss the issue at length, the younger Guthrie was growing more and more curious. Her initial assessment of Jubilee’s inner conflict surrounding Sam had concluded her mortification was in response to the violation of some social boundary. But this soon changed once she considered the troubled expression Jubilee wore when talking about the Southern gentleman, her belief that she had driven him away, and her repeated wishes of doing something to rectify things between them. The wheels inside the blonde metamorph’s head turned furiously. According to what she was able to glean, Jubilee’s feelings towards Sam were much more complicated than initially thought. In fact, Paige was becoming convinced something existed beyond the guilt and concern her friend was professing to be experiencing.

Soon, the younger Guthrie found herself just as conflicted as her friend although for different reasons. Secretly, she felt overjoyed for her older brother. There was a chance that the objected of unrequited affections may harbour similar feelings, and due to recent developments, was not so unavailable anymore. But the part of Paige that was loyal to Jubilee hated seeing her friend in so much pain—even if it was the result of pining for someone other than Sam.

In the end, Paige was determined to do what she could for the hurting party who was right here. As much as she loved her brother, she was keenly aware that had he been present for any of this, he would have wanted her to do the right thing. So, for now, she abstained from pushing Jubilee. The last thing she needed was the introduction of another stressor.

“I guess that’s one way to put it,” Paige remarked ruefully, giving her friend’s arm another squeeze.

Jubilee’s smile disappeared. “Yeah, I guess it is.” Staring ahead at the tranquil landscape before her, she sighed and shook her head. Then she said earnestly, “I feel like I’m floating face down in the water and there’s all this murkiness between me and any reasonable explanation.”

A gentle breeze rumpled the blunt blonde fringe over Paige’s brows. “Are we talking about what happened with Jean…or something else?”

The young firecracker smoothed an errant tendril from her cheek. “I suppose it’s pretty all-encompassing when I think about it,” she answered, sheepish at her lack of specificity. “It’s kind of amazing how life can turn so quickly, you know. One moment, everything is…perfect. Then these horrible series of events happen, making you question everything you ever knew.”

Paige nodded slowly, recognizing Jubilee’s current comfort level in speaking in generalities. “You’re right,” she agreed, drawing her hand back and looping her arm through that of her friend. “When things get hard, you sort of start to see the cracks in everything. And soon, it’s easy to let tragedy harden us. I think our mission, in the end, is never allowing that to happen.”

Jubilee allowed her friend’s sage words to sink in. They represented a life philosophy she had developed when she was very young. It helped hone her resilience, determination, and a sense of balance that seemed unlikely for someone with her past. With the heartbreak and tragic events occurring in rapid succession, she nearly forgotten this mantra.

“Thanks,” she said finally, giving the blonde metamorph a grateful look. Then she tugged at her arm gently. “Let’s start walking. I’m getting chilly.”

Paige followed her lead. The two friends lapsed into silence as they took one of the well-worn, gravel footpaths. With the winds dying down, they began marching towards the field of purple heather at the other end of the estate. Reaching the sea of violet, she and Jubilee stopped in their tracks, struck by the brilliant contrast of the heather against the grey skies overhead.

The stillness between was broken when Jubilee spoke up. “You know,” she said, pulling back slightly from the younger Guthrie, “the old me would have sent a spark at his head or something.”

Surprised, the blonde metamorph peered into her friend’s thoughtful face. This was a first. Any previous reference to Bobby was framed in the context of the breakdown of the relationship. For the most part, Jubilee had tried to focus on the facts. Paige surmised she found the objectivity safer, less likely to be tear-provoking. However, despite these efforts, her resolve would eventually be undermined.

Finally, Paige nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I know. But that’s not you now.”

“No, it isn’t,” Jubilee said quietly, “because now I think, ‘What good is that going to do?’ Yeah, it might feel really cathartic…but will it make him talk to me, or change his mind as to where things stand? I doubt it.”

While she was speaking, the younger Guthrie noticed that Jubilee was fingering the pink beads of the necklace Bobby had given her two Christmases ago. Her pale eyes then travelled to the young woman’s right hand. Another gift from Bobby, the slender, 14-karat gold Claddaugh ring, was fixed around her ring finger.

Jubilee followed her friend’s gaze. Her cheeks turned pink with a self-conscious blush. “You think it’s stupid I’m still wearing this stuff, don’t you?”

“No,” Paige replied, watching Jubilee twist the band around her finger nervously. “You still love him, right?”

The young firecracker nodded. “Yeah,” she answered softly, “I do.”

“That’s not stupid, either,” Paige reassured her with a sympathetic smile. “In fact, there’s nothing stupid about how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t see why you would think that way,” her friend said bitterly, clasping her hands together and shaking her head.

Perplexed, the blonde metamorph frowned. “Why? You still love him and you’re hurt. I can’t see how any of that is stupid, Jubes.”

“Because I still believe there’s still an ‘us’ even though Bobby’s made his intentions pretty clear. He said we were through. I’ve tried to talk to him and he wouldn’t have any part of it. You saw that.”

The younger Guthrie’s eyebrows shot up expectantly when she heard a note of hesitation in the other young woman’s voice. “I sense a ‘but’ following.”

Jubilee hesitated. It was astonishing how well Paige really knew her. The fact that she could read her so well was a testament to their enduring friendship. “But,” she began, swallowing hard. “I feel like I should do whatever it takes to fight for him. Does that sound crazy?”

The younger Guthrie shook her head, straw-coloured hair rippling down her shoulders. “Not to me.”

Relief washed over her friend’s face before she continued speaking. “There’s a part of me that thinks something’s really off about this whole mess.”

“What do you mean?” Paige asked quizzically, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat.

“Listen, I’m the first one to admit that what I did was pretty bad. I understand how he is hurt by that given his track record.”

“But…”

“He was really eager to try and convict me on the spot. I mean, he wouldn’t even let me reassure him that I wouldn’t do it again and that the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt him.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bobby. I don’t know him that well but from what I do know, he’s a pretty reasonable guy.”

“Exactly, Hayseed. That’s what makes all of this so weird.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve exhausted my brain in terms of options. At the same time, I don’t know how much more I can go on like this. I need to air things out with him.”

“Have you thought about giving him some time and space to think about things? You have to understand, Jubes, that this is a difficult time for him as well. I mean, you’ve said so yourself. He’s had to deal with his dad being sick and now with Jean gone. It’s probably a lot for him to take.”

“I get that. I really do. I’m just not convinced that putting off talking is going to help things. It’s not like what Bobby and I have been about. We’ve always been there for each other, listening and talking things out—no matter the subject matter or the feelings tied to the topic. We’ve always been there for each other in that way. What’s happening right now feels so strange, Paige. It is so unlike us. Because of that, I can’t turn my back on us so easily.”

The younger Guthrie dropped her gaze to the grassy ground beneath her feet. There was one particular question she had wanted to pose but was struggling to phrase. She feared it would elicit a negative reaction from her friend. At the same time, she was sure that it was one that Jubilee must have considered in her ever present ruminations about the topic.

After searching in vain for an eloquent manner to make her query, Paige decided to forge ahead. As Jubilee’s best friend, she was obligated to not only provide comfort but to act as a voice of reason—even if it meant pointing out a harsh set of possibilities. “What if you don’t get the answer you want?” she asked softly. “What if he says it’s really over between you two?”

Jubilee’s lower lip trembled as her sapphire eyes glistened with tears. Clearly, her friend’s question was devastating but one that needed to be answered. Blinking furiously, she took a deep breath before replying. “Then it’s over and I have to accept that. End of story.” Then she crossed her arms over her chest, as if to hold in the sobs about to wrack her body.

Her friend, looking equally distressed, wrapped an arm around the young firecracker’s shoulders. She held her close and sighed. “I’m sorry, Jubes,” she whispered.

Resting her head on Paige’s shoulder, Jubilee shook her head. “You didn’t do anything,” she pointed out, brushing the back of her hand against a saline-stained cheek. “I made this huge mess and I can’t figure out how to go about fixing things. I deserve this shit storm.”

“You do not,” the younger Guthrie countered firmly, pale eyes peering over at her friend’s anguished face. “Yes, things got out of control and he’s hurting. But it doesn’t excuse how he’s been acting. In no way do you deserve to be treated the way you have. In no way do you deserve to be in this kind of pain.”

Sable brows furrowed together as Jubilee frowned. “What about Sam?” she asked.

“What about Sam?” Paige tried to contain her surprise at the mention of her brother’s name. She did not quite understand how the discussion jumped from Bobby to him all of a sudden.

The young woman drew back slightly, staring at the blond metamorph with her old-soul, blue eyes. “Because of me, he picked up and left,” she told Paige gravely. “I can’t believe you’re being nice to me despite knowing that.”

“I’m nice to you because you’re my best friend and I love you,” the younger Guthrie pointed out, her tone resolute. Her pale eyes stared deeply into Jubilee’s face, emphasizing the sincerity in her words. “Listen, I don’t blame you for Sam leaving. I’m sure he left for his own reasons.” Inwardly, Paige was praying her attempt at deception would go unnoticed.

Fortunately, her pleas were answered since Jubilee was focused on arguing her original assertion. “You don’t understand,” she insisted, lower lip trembling once again. “I made him leave. The way I treated him after that night… I confused him.”

Paige struggled to maintain her composure. She had been operating on a theory but did not recognize the degree of its validity until this moment. As she studied her friend, the younger Guthrie experienced a growing sense of anticipation. She thought of her older brother, his self-inflicted torment, and how this moment seemed to be indicative of so much potential. “Jubes?” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I confused Sam,” Jubilee repeated softly, tears falling down her cheeks, “because I’m confused…because I don’t really understand what my feelings are. I mean, I love Bobby and what’s happening has been a nightmare and I don’t want to give up on us. At the same time, I think about Sam when I know I shouldn’t. I try not to but I do.”

For the other young woman, the veneer of impartiality was beginning to erode which was complicated by the growing sense of confusion evoked by Jubilee’s statements about the oldest Guthrie. “What do you mean?” Paige asked, prodding gently. She realized she was in a precarious position and needed to balance her desire to understand with her friend’s feelings. Her words and tone needed to reflect caution. “When do you think about Sam?”

“While I’m trying to figure out things with Bobby,” Jubilee admitted, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. She shook her head in disbelief. “I know I need to focus on salvaging my relationship with the guy I’ve been with for the past two years...and believe me, I really want to. I do love him. It’s just that ever since Thanksgiving, I haven’t been able to get Sam out of my head. No matter how much I try to concentrate on what’s been going on with Bobby, Sam isn’t too far behind.”

A sad smile graced her small mouth as she continued. “Before Bobby went to Genosha and that night with Sam, things were so simple. Back then, it was only Bobby.” She stared into her friend’s deeply concerned visage and asked, “Did I tell you we talked about moving in together a couple days before he went away?”

The blonde metamorph shook her head. “No, Jubes, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well…” Her soft voice trailed off as she tried to comprehend the rapid deterioration of their relationship since that conversation. Despite her best efforts, she was stymied once again. With so much turmoil present in her life right now, Jubilee began to wonder if the discussion had been some illusion her conflicted psyche had fabricated. She questioned if all the good believed to be inherent in her relationship with Bobby had been part of some dream—something she had feared. Closing her eyes, she could see his boyishly handsome face, hear the loving and patient words expressed to her, and feel the tenderness of his touch. The tangible nature of all those things convinced her that no, what they had shared was genuine.

Meanwhile, the younger Guthrie was fixated by her friend’s disclosure relating to the Southern gentleman. Though she wanted to read more into what had been laid out, clarification was required. “But now, things aren’t so simple,” she reflected, using Jubilee’s words as a means to prompt. When this statement received a nod, Paige then asked, “Is it because of Sam?”

Jubilee bit her lower lip, shaking her head. “It’s not like that exactly.”

“Then what?” Paige’s voice was non-judgemental as she encouraged her friend to explain what was meant.

The young firecracker fell silent. Other nights, they had discussed her reaction to the kiss, the resulting ambivalence towards the oldest Guthrie, and her view that the act ultimately hurt both Bobby and Sam. She had talked at length with Paige about her confusion, guilt, and remorse but held back on addressing other feelings—ones she did not quite understand and therefore, was not ready to touch upon.

Yet, as she peered into the guileless face of her friend, Jubilee began to realize what the nature of those emotions was and their role in the ongoing chaos in her life. Initially, she was frightened of her epiphany. However, she came to accept that what she was feeling provided context to her experience and the interactions between herself and the Southern gentleman. Unfortunately, they also served to exacerbate her confusion.

Finally, she said, “It’s because of how much I think about Sam. It’s because of how I wish I could take away all the hurt I’ve caused him.” Then she paused, racking her brain for a more eloquent way to communicate what trumped those things. At a loss, Jubilee dropped her voice to a whisper. “But most of all, it’s because of how much I really care about him.”