Page 37 of Jacob Michaels Is Not Jacob Michaels

Ohio in April is always chilly, but the wind was whipping down through the football stadium and whistling up through the bleachers as we sat on the bottom row of the stands at the fifty-yard line. So, it felt chillier than usual. Lucas had his arms wrapped around me, his head on my shoulder as I stared down at the field.

We had successfully gotten away from Oma’s house without getting hurt and made our way to the stadium. Oma had texted minutes later to say that all of the paparazzi had taken off and: ”I didn’t hit a damn one. Ya’ happy?” That did make me happy because at least she wouldn’t be doing jail time if she got into trouble. I shot off a quick reply to her instructing her to let me know if Sheriff Dennard or anyone else came out and gave her trouble, but otherwise, I’d be home in the morning at the latest. “Yeah. Yeah.” was the reply.

Lucas and I had parked in the field behind the stadium so no one would see Opa’s truck in the parking lot and investigate. Then we had snuck over to one of the chain link fences that surrounded the property and hopped over. Easiest breaking-and-entering job ever. As soon as we walked onto the field, I expected to feel something. To remember something. Anything. But nothing came to me. No sudden realization or memory or thought. We were just walking along the grassy field, hand-in-hand, as though it were any other place for us to take a moonlit stroll as a couple.

After walking the field, Lucas and I walked up into the stands, up and down rows waiting for anything to strike me. Lucas had no idea what I was waiting for, but I honestly didn’t either. I was simply hoping that some memory would be jogged or I’d have a sudden revelation about why I couldn’t remember things like a normal human being who had lived nearly twenty-seven years could. But the football stadium felt as empty as my head—as far as memories go. Lucas stuck with me as we walked the rows of bleachers, holding my hand when it was possible. When I finally walked down to the front row and fell onto the bleacher at the fifty-yard line, Lucas sat down next to me and laid his head on my shoulder. It was comforting, but it didn’t fix my problem.

“Nothing?” Lucas finally asked, his breath hot against my neck.

“Not a single thing.” I sighed. “Fuck.”

“What did you expect?”

“Something besides nothing.”

We sat there for a few moments before Lucas said anything else to me or moved at all.

“Won’t it be good enough to keep going the way we’re going, babe?” He whispered as the wind whistled under our seats, making it hard to hear him. “I mean…I’m happy. Are you happy?”

“May as well get a lobotomy, Lucas.” I sighed. “I mean, if we’re just happy because we can’t remember what led to this moment, is it really happiness?”

“Fair enough.”

“Can you remember anything?” I asked again. “Anything else? Anything you haven’t told me?”

“I remember a lot of things I haven’t told you.” He chuckled against my neck. “But nothing about us. I clearly remember you being the talented, special kid in high school. That you were kind. And, of course, hot. I remember always wanting you.”

I could practically feel him blush against my neck, which made me smile.

“When you delivered Oma’s manure and tiller the other day?” I questioned him. “She said you were starstruck. What did you truly feel?”

Lucas didn’t answer for several moments.

“Completion.” He said. “I felt overwhelmed.”

“Please explain that to me.”

“I had felt like something had been missing for a very long time.” He sat up to look me in the eyes. “Then, I saw you, and I didn’t feel that way anymore. I guess I had been missing you, too.”

“That doesn’t make sense, Lucas.” I pleaded with him. “I know exactly what you’re talking about…now…but it just doesn’t add up.”

“Do you believe in fate or destiny?” He shrugged. “Maybe we were always destined to end up together, and something inside of us knew that, so when you left, we both started to feel that something wasn’t right?”

“That’s a stretch, babe.” I shook my head. “I mean, fuck, that’s a beautiful thought. But we didn’t know each other. At least not really. We knew of each other. Maybe exchanged a few pleasantries—but nothing memorable. How would something inside of us know that we were meant for each other? And, not to piss on your parade, but I’m still myself here. I don’t know what the future holds for us. I love what’s going on here…but I can’t say, without a doubt, that we were meant for each other.”

“Ouch.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “I know what you mean. Who knows what the future holds? Who knows if we’re not just in the honeymoon phase here, ya’ know? Who knows if this isn’t just lust masquerading as something else?”

I looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking down at the field. Slowly, his head turned, and he locked eyes with me.

“But…I know, Rob.” He gave me a firm nod. “Even before you came back and I saw you there in Mrs. Wagner’s backyard, I knew. You were coming back, and we were going to…”

I waited, but he just stared at me.

“What, Lucas?”