the ordeal of being known

Jess

Jess came back to the hotel a couple of hours later, just when her stomach started rumbling and her eyes burned from focusing on her iPad for too long. He had a stack of books in his hands that

looked old and well loved.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Some of my old books. We have a little library in the house, so I was looking through some things.”

“What do you need them for?” There were two copies of Frankenstein, one of Little Women, and two of Dorian Grey. All of them were neatly annotated. “Did you annotate all of these?”

He hesitated. “Yes, of course. We’re constantly growing and so I used to revisit books every year to re annotate them, to see if the way I looked at things was different.” He searched her face, a vulnerable look in his eyes.

Sometimes when Jess looked at her, she felt a little resentment towards her face. Voices filtered through her head, Sharon’s mostly, telling her how no one approached her at school because she had an unkind face, because she looked like she carried hatred in her features. She didn’t want Jess to feel that way, not when it felt like he didn’t want to be judged for what he was saying. Not when he was being so hesitant, and especially not after he tolerated her the whole day without complaint.

She felt her heart race. A familiar feeling of panic spiked and she blurted, “My grandfather does the same thing with poetry, but he refuses to buy new copies.”

Jess smiled. She knew he smiled often, but that one felt rewarding. It felt like she said the right thing.

“When I was younger, I used to dream about publishing a book so good it would become a ‘modern classic’. I dreamed about writing books that were so good they debated about them at schools.”

“That sounds right, you know. It suits you. A writer,” she said. “When did you start writing?”

“I wrote fan fiction when I was 14,” he signs proudly.

“Who did you write about?”

“That’s one secret I’ll never tell.” He winked. “I thought I could retire and write books later, but I haven’t written anything in ages and I lose interest in anything I start after a while.”

“So, you needed to see books that inspired you in the past,” she guessed. He nodded. “Can I take one of your copies of Dorian Grey? I’d love to see your annotations.”

“I’ll tell you what, take one and read it and then when you’re done, tell what copy you think you got. The older one or the newest one.”

“Deal.”

“Okay, we should order dinner now. I’m starving.”

They ended up ordering pizza. Their flight was early in the morning and they were a little tired. When they finished, she thought Jess might leave, but he sat on the sofa and started looking through the books. Layla opened her iPad and continued her digital art.

It was peaceful until both of their phones started buzzing and ringing. Jess paused. She picked up her phone to see Mateo’s face.

“NEW YORK? YOU’RE IN NEW YORK?”

“LOWER YOUR VOICE.”

“Stop yelling at me!” he yelled. “And where is he?”

Jess walked over, his phone still buzzing.

“What’s up?”

“Why the hell are you in New York?”

“I told you we were going out.”

“I thought you meant going to the grocery store or something.”

“Well, that’s your problem, isn’t it?” Layla told him.

“Your pictures are all over the internet, and they’re saying Jess gave you a promise ring.”

“Why the fuck would he do that? We barely know each other.”

“There were already rumors that Jess was secretly dating someone. Some thought it was Onika, but then you guys go on a date.”

“Not a date,” she said. Jess signed the same thing.

“And you’re wearing rings,” he told Layla.

“I always wear rings.”

“They only care that you were wearing one on your ring finger, and then they learned that you’re staying at the same hotel.”

“It’s not even an engagement ring!”

Jess opened his phone and opened an article titled “Secret Relationship?”

“We look good together.” He nodded at the picture of them; she took a look at the picture. It was just when they left. She was telling him about something, and he was looking down at her with a pleased smile.

Layla to the audience: We do look good, but that’s irrelevant because I always look good.

Jess closed her phone, ignoring Mateo’s protest. “Sorry about this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“It’s kind of funny,” he said.

“Is it?”

“It could be.” There was a glint of mischief and his eyes.

⸻

Jess and Layla both had some provoking planned. When they landed in LA, there were a good number of paparazzi and Lakers fans. Jess was next to her, keeping a hand on her lower back. There was a lot of shouting.

“Is that the promise ring?” the paparazzo shouted at Jess. There was a click, but they couldn’t get a clear shot. It was, in fact, a promise ring that they had left the hotel early to buy. Layla hid her hand and slid the ring off.

One of them got really close to her. Jess tightened his hand. The guy was pushing everyone, trying to get a close shot of her hands. Jess used his body to shove him lightly, farther away from her.

When they got back home, the photos were already circling around. Jess really disliked the paparazzi, so messing with them seemed to put him in a good mood.

On the way to the apartment, she made sure to post the digital art she was working on. It was a recreation of a beautiful old painting called Dancing Fairies by August Malmstrom. It was made in 1866. Instead of the shades of brown and beige, she had used shades of pink and purple and blue. It was part of a series of old paintings that Layla was recreating, but making them more… well… pink. It seemed to piss off a lot of silly men for some reason, but no one could actually deny how talented she was.

The painting depicted the morning mist turning into fairies, which were all in shades of pink in Layla’s version. The sky was in shades of pink and purple, and the grass was also purple.

Jess and Layla were still trending and, as they always say, any publicity is good publicity, so they took advantage of it. They were both gaining huge amounts of followers and shares, and he took the chance to post some stuff about a charity event coming soon.

Jess went up before her while she answered Samira’s call. After she finished, she found Kione, Mateo, and Celia already there. She could hear giggling as she opened the door, and she just knew they were reading comments and laughing about them.

When Jess looked up, she felt something stir in her stomach. She had a slight urge to sit in front of the sink and wait until she started throwing up. She thought about what she ate earlier and what could have possibly made her feel so sick.

“Hello future wife,” Jess signed. He stood up quickly; his hair was a blond mess, and he was beaming.

She had a horrible, horrific realization—that Jess was making her nervous.

Layla to the audience: Are those butterflies?

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

“You’re not marrying my sister,” Mateo said.

“Why the fuck not?”

“You didn’t ask for my blessing; that’s just disrespect. Besides, Layla doesn’t even date.”

Jess’s eyes turned to him, his eyebrows raised like he was saying, ‘she doesn’t?’ but Mateo didn’t notice his confusion.

“She doesn’t need your blessing. She’s a grown woman.”

“I don’t approve of this union either,” Kione added. “She didn’t ask for my blessing.”

“Why would I want your blessing? We’ve never even had a conversation before,” she told him.

“We’re literally in a conversation right now. And you have to ask for my blessing because Jess won’t marry anyone without it. Right, Jess?”

Jess stared at them, and then he got on one knee and signed really quickly, “If you want me, I’ll have you right now; fuck all the blessings.” Then he brought his hands together and mouthed the word please.

“Wow.”

“I feel so betrayed right now.”

“I don’t know enough about you to say yes,” Layla answered him.

“That’s not a no.” Celia beamed as she pulled Layla to sit next to her. They were supposed to go apartment hunting the next day, and she couldn’t wait.

While she was talking to Celia, she felt his eyes on her. It was searing, and she couldn’t help but shiver. She looked up, and he had a strange look on his face. His head was tilted.

“What are you thinking?” she signed discreetly. 

“I’ll tell you later,” he said, then tapped Kione’s shoulder. They headed to his room, leaving her with the siblings to talk about apartment hunting.