“It's just that even though I'm totally old and unhip,I remember what boys in high school were like.Especially the kind like Jack Caputo.""What kind is that?""The kind that doesn't even walk a girl to the door."I rolled my eyes. "Well,he would have, but he had to go drop off his other dates. There were three of us." My dad finally cracked a smile. "Good night,old man," I said,giving him a hug."Wait a sec,honey.Did I do that okay?"I pulled back. "Do what okay?" It hit me then that this was my first dance since my mom died.I felt a little guilty that I hadn't realized it before. It was just that the night was so perfect. Before he could explain, I said, "Yes.You did great.""Night,Nikki."The next morning,I found a note in my jacket pocket.I unfolded it and read two words, written in Jack's handwriting.Ever Yours.”

Brodi Ashton

Brodi Ashton - “It's just that even though I'm totally...” 1

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“I think I'll say goodnight here," Jack said."My dad's not so bad.""Oh yeah,he was great...right up until the time I started dating his daughter."I'd seen how my dad had become considerably colder toward Jack. There were little clues,like the other evening when out of nowhere he told Jack about how every football player he went to high school with had gotten fat after graduation.We'd been talking about what to make for dinner."Okay," I said. "Maybe next time." I leaned over to peck him on the cheek, but he grabbed my face in both of his hands and kissed me. His breath tasted like the mints the chaperones had passed out when the dance was over, and when he parted his lips against mine, I shivered, but not because of the cold. I pressed against him even more and hoped the dark inside the car obscured my dad's view.But I knew better than to push it.As I was about to break away,Jack put his hands behind my waist and pulled me even closer,practically lifting me over the center console,so I was sitting in his lap.I pulled back. "My dad's going to love that-"He put his finger over my lips, cutting me off. "Please don't talk about your dad when I'm kissing you. Besides, unless he's enacted a law against it-""Which he may well do after tonight," I interrupted.He smiled and then brought my face to his again for a few moments before finally releasing me."After that kiss,we'd better dream of the same thing tonight," he said with a smirk.My face got even warmer,but I tried to speak in a calm voice. "I'll probably dream my usual dream,where I show up to school without any clothes on.""Me too." Jack chuckled.I gave his shoulder a playful shove.”

Brodi Ashton
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“The thing was,I knew exactly how I had survived.Mary had been on to something with her anchor theory,but she was a little unclear on the logistics. Jack told me he dreamed of me every night, and it was as if I were really there. I was in a dark place,and he helped me see.Now Jack was invading my dreams every night. Not a dream Jack,but the real thing.I know this because during one of the first dreams, he told me what the tattoo on his arm said. Ever Yours. The next morning,I rushed to draw the image from memory, and then I researched it.The symbols were artistic versions of ancient Sanskrit words.They stood for eternity and belonging. Ever Yours, just as Jack had said. There was no way my subconscious could have come up with that explanation on its own.I'd finally found the connection Meredith had longed for,the tether from an anchor that kept a Forfeit alive. They were bound together through their dreams,sustaining each other during sleep.When I was asleep,Jack would come to my bedroom and sit on the end of the mattress and face me.He came to me every night,talking about his uncle's cabin, the Christmas Dance, how my hair hides my eyes,how my hand fits in his, how he loves me.How he'll never leave. I spent the first few dreams saying "I'm sorry" over and over and over, until he threatened to stay away if I didn't stop.”

Brodi Ashton
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“You going to the game tonight?"I was about to answer,but another voice rang out from just behind me."She'd better," Jack said as he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back against him. I could smell the fresh leather on his letterman jacket as I crunched against it."Why is that?" I asked,smiling and instantly warm in his arms.I still couldn't get over the fact that Jack Caputo and I were...together. It was hard to think the word. We had been friends for so long.To be honest, he had been friends with me and I had been secretly pining for him since...well, since forever.But now he was here. It was my waist he held. It didn't seem real."I can't carry the team to victory without you," he said. "You're my rabbit's foot."I craned my neck around to look at him. "I've always dreamed of some guy saying that to me."He pressed his lips to the base of my neck, and heat rushed to my cheeks. "I love making you turn red," he whispered."It doesn't take much. We're in the middle of the hallway.""You want to know what else I love?" His tone was playful."No," I said, but he wasn't listening. He took his fingers and lightly railed them up my spine,to the back of my neck.Instant goose bumps sprang up all over my body,and I shuddered."That."I could feel his smile against my ear. Jack was always smiling.It was what made him so likable.By this time,Jules had snaked her way through the throng of students. "Hello, Jack.I was in the middle of a conversation with Becks.Do you mind?" she said with a smirk.Right then a bunch of Jack's teammates rounded the corner at the end of the hallway,stampeding toward us."Uh-oh," I said.Jack pushed me safely aside just before they tackled him, and Jules and I watched as what seemed like the entire football team heaped on top of their starting quarterback."Dating Jack Caputo just might kill you one day." Jules laughed. "You sure it's worth it?"I didn't answer,but I was sure. In the weeks following my mother's death, I had spent nearly every morning sitting at her grave.Whispering to her, telling her about my day, like I used to each morning before she died. Jack came with me to the cemetary most days. He'd bring a book and read under a tree several headstones away,waiting quietly, as if what I was doing was totally normal.We hadn't even been together then.It had been only five months since my mom died. Five months since a drunk driver hit her during her evening jog. Five months since the one person who knew all my dreams disappeared forever. Jack was the reason I was still standing.Yeah,I was sure he was worth it.The only thing I wasn't sure about was why he was with me.”

Brodi Ashton
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“Making your own T-shirts? Don't you have people for that?" I asked. "Like professionals?""Well,I usually travel with an army of professional T-shirt makers, but today I thought I'd go it alone."Jack didn't take his eyes off me as Cole spoke. I wasn't sure he was even listening,or aware Cole was there."What are the screens for?" I asked."Elvis Presley as a corpse.You wanna come look?" Cole gave me a grin as if he'd just asked if I wanted to see rainbows being made."You had me at 'corpse.'"Jack chuckled. "Saying good-bye here. Remember?"I turned to Jack, rose up on my tiptoes, and kissed his lips lightly. "Two weeks,Jack. It'll fly by."I started to back up,but Jack grabbed my hand and pulled me close. "No you don't," he said. "The corpse can wait."He gave me a kiss that was not quite appropriate for public view,and I would've been embarrassed if I hadn't lost the ability to think straight. His arms reached around my back,and he pulled me in tight against him so that my feet were barely touching the ground. And things started disappearing around us,just like they did every time Jack kissed me.He pulled back. "What were you saying about two weeks?""That it will feel like forever," I said, breathless."That's better." Jack lowered his head so his forehead was touching mine. "Miss you.""Miss you too," I whispered.”

Brodi Ashton
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“The Little Boy and the Old ManSaid the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."Said the old man, "I do that too."The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."I do that too," laughed the little old man.Said the little boy, "I often cry."The old man nodded, "So do I."But worst of all," said the boy, "it seemsGrown-ups don't pay attention to me."And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.I know what you mean," said the little old man.”

Shel Silverstein
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