Chapter 1
Has something really horrible happened to you, and you know it’s all your fault? You wish you could go back in time to stop it?
That’s happened to me more than once. Where should I start this story? Ah, how about right here?
It was the summer of 2000, in San Francisco. I was only six years old, my best friend, Jarrett Miller, was eight. We were in church, just getting ready to leave, when I saw her for the first time.
Jewel Scott.
The most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Blond hair that went to her lower back, and eyes as brown as...the dirt.
She was getting up and I just needed to talk to her before she went.
“Evan? Are you coming?” my mother had asked.
I ignored her and walked straight up to Jewel. “Hi.” I practiced the word over and over in my head, and it came out perfectly. Trust me, I would’ve messed it up.
She smiled at me. “Hi.” She said back, then left with her father.
That’s it. That’s all it was. But she stuck with me, everything about her. Her hair and how soft it looked. Her eyes and how they pierced through everything, but in a kind way. Her voice, the way it easily soared above everyone else’s, though she wasn’t yelling.
Jarrett thought I was insane. My parents never found out. I didn’t even see Jewel again until I was a junior in high school. That’s when I finally learned her name.
“Hey.” I finally mustered up the courage to talk to her. She had just recently moved to town, and was now attending my school. Jarrett had already graduated and was off to college.
“Hi.” she said back.
“You don’t remember me.” I said.
She looks me over. “I’m sorry. We’ve met before?”
I nod a little too rapidly. “Yeah, we were young. It was at church...in the summer....” I could tell this was going nowhere. “Well, anyway. I never caught your name then, but I know it now. I’m Evan Moore.” I smile at her.
She smiles back. “Nice to officially meet you, Evan. I’ll see you around.”
I watched her go.
And the rest is history.
I know you’re probably wondering what “the rest” is, but just wait for it. I’m telling this story how I want.
Now it’s 2019, and I’m just getting out of college, age 22.
“Are you sure it’s ok if I stay with you?” I ask Jarrett.
“Of course! But, you are going to find your own place at some point, right?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah. I’ll just be here until I do.” I said. He helps me unpack my bags. “Are the neighbors nice?”
He nodded. “The ones on the right are. The ones on the left can get...kinda rowdy. But they’re teenagers, that’s what they do. Remember those years?”
I laugh. “I do. Staying up late, playing video games. Yep, those were the years.”
Jarrett laughs his soft laugh. His smile always made me smile. It just had that effect. If he’s smiling, everyone and everything else is smiling too. “I only wish those times would come into play when you’re in your twenties.”
“Well, they can. You just need to forget about jobs, houses, food... Nothing really important.” I say.
We carry my boxes into his house. It’s a nice, simple house on the outside. A dark gray color with a black base, door, and window grills. As we went inside, it was a whole other story.
The floor surrounding the door was a typical dark brown wood flooring, cleaner than anything I’d ever seen. Once you stepped onto the carpet a few feet forward, it was like standing on a marshmallow...that’s on a cloud. It was that soft. Speaking of clouds and marshmallows, that was about the color of the carpet.
“I’d hate to track mud in here one day.” I said.
“Oh, I have before.”
“You-you have? Where?!” I look around, but it was the same shade of white all over.
“It was about where you’re standing.” he says.
I lift my feet, but still, nothing. “How did you get it out?”
“Soap and water.” he says. “Just leave the boxes here, let’s get the others.”
I set my box down and walk out the door. “How about the neighbors across the street?” I ask as I pick up a heavy box. What did I pack in here?!
“The couple on the left are asses.” he says, scowling at the house. “The couple straight across are alright. I haven’t seen them much. And the house on the right is owned by an old man. He lives alone.” Jarrett tells me, then picks up the last box and heads inside.
I quickly set down my box and glance around at the walls. They were painted a nice, dark blue. Not quite navy blue, but more along the lines of royal blue.
“You’re trying to figure out what color my walls are.” Jarrett smiles.
“You know me so well. Royal? With a hint of cobalt, so it’s not as dark and gloomy.”
He laughs. “How do you do it? To me, and every other normal person, it’s just blue.”
“The perks of being an artist. You know all the colors and notice every detail.” I respond. “Now, where’s my room?” I asked.
“Down this hall and to the left.”
I follow Jarrett’s directions and find myself in a room with the same flooring as the entryway, but the walls were a kind of basil green color. There was already a bed in the furthest corner with a window a few feet from the head of it.
“How do you like it?” Jarrett asks.
“It’s great, thanks.” I said.
“And look, there’s a closet. So we won’t have to haul in a big dresser.” Jarrett gestures to the tall, brown door and opens it up to reveal plenty of space for clothes and shoes.
“This is great, how do you ever leave it?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I guess I don’t care about it as much.”
“You don’t care about it? Then how come everything is spotless? Are you just so clean that even dust bunnies steer clear of here?” I chuckle a little.
“Ok fine, I clean it practically everyday.” He gives in.
I smile. “There’s the Jarrett I know.”
He laughs. “C’mon, let’s unpack.”
It didn’t take long for us to do so. Before we knew it, it was like I had been living there the whole time.
“I could go for some food. Pizza?” Jarrett suggests.
“Pizza sounds awesome.” I said.
We hopped into his light gray Buick and headed down the road.
We pulled into a place called Marco’s Pizza and went inside.
“Good afternoon, Jarrett. The usual?” asks a waitress.
“Yeah, but get a small. This is Evan, the vegetarian I was telling you about.” Jarrett smiles at me.
“I told you, I’m not a vegetarian. Some meat just makes me sick.” I tell him.
“Small three meat and a medium cheese.” Jarrett tells her.
She smiled at us in turn and left.
“So, what’s it like being on the other side of San Francisco?” Jarret asks me.
“It’s cool so far. Yeah, pretty much the same, only the Golden Gate Bridge over there now.” I point.
He laughs. “Are you going to look for a job that has to do with painting?”
I nodded. “Yeah. If I can. You know any painting places?”
“There’s a place on 5th that’s hiring.”
“Great. I’ll stop by tomorrow.” I take a drink from my water. “How about you? How’s the life of a realtor treating you?”
“Fine. I’ve actually just sold a house to a crabby couple, the Donners. They have come looking for a house for two years and I finally got them to buy one.”
“Way to go! You should get a raise.”
“That’s what I was thinking! But you see, if you ask Big Lenny for a raise, he’ll probably tell you where to go.”
I chuckle. “Wow, ok. Big Lenny seems...”
“Totally terrifying and insane? Yes.” Jarrett laughs.
“Why do you call him Big Lenny?” I wondered.
Jarrett looks up at me through his jet black bangs, his brown eyes showing amusement. “Well, he is the boss, therefore he’s big. But it’s really because he is a rather large man in size.”
“I figured. I just didn’t know if it was like how everyone called Stuart Sable Little Stu even though he was huge.” I remembered.
“Oh yeah. I have no clue who came up with that nickname.”
“Maybe he was little when they came up with the nickname, and it just stuck around.” I said.
Jarrett nods. “Maybe.”
The waitress, whose name I learned was Debra, brought our pizzas over. “One medium cheese and a small three meat.”
“Thanks, Debby.” Jarrett says, already digging into his meat filled pizza.
“No problem, hon.” Debra was one of those older ladies who just loves every young kid. Not in a creepy way, but like they’re all her kids. She had red hair that I guessed probably barely touched her shoulders, but it was hard to tell since it was in a hairnet. Her eyes were amber, and they smiled when her mouth did.
I grab a slice of the cheese pizza and take a bite. “Oh my- this is great! Why does it taste so much better here?” I asked, taking another bite.
“Debby’s secret recipe.” Jarrett responds, already working on the crust of his pizza.
“What is her secret recipe?” I ask.
“Children.”
I knew he was kidding, but I stopped eating anyway.
“Relax! I think it just has to do with the sauce.” he laughs.
“Child’s blood in the sauce to make it thicker and richer?”
Jarrett cracks up.
After another 30 minutes, we pay for our food and begin heading back home.
“The owner of the art studio, Artsy Fartsy, is really cool-”
“Wait, wait, wait- Artsy Fartsy? I’m not working at a place called Artsy Fartsy!” I interrupt.
“I think it’s cute! Besides, like I was saying, the owner is really cool. Her name is Makenna Kelley. She typically teaches art classes there, but I hear she’s getting burnt out on it. That’s probably what you’ll be doing.”
“Ok, I could teach a class.” I said. “Did Makenna come up with the name of the studio?”
Jarrett rolls his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s not that big a deal!”
I chuckle a little. “You’re right. What’s important is that I have a job.”
“Exactly.” Jarrett pulls into the driveway. “We’re home.” he says, then shuts off the car and gets out.
“It’s already nearly 7:00.” I note. “What do the people on the right side of the Golden Gate Bridge do at this time?” I ask.
“I usually take a shower and sit on the couch. Other people...I have no clue.” Jarrett answers, unlocking the front door and tossing the keys on the small coffee table immediately on the left.
“Sounds good to me. Although, I’ll sit on the couch while you shower. Them we’ll switch.” I said.
Jarrett nods. “I like that plan.”
