where the lost things are ; jane & luke
Feb 4, 2020 22:27:26 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker 🍒 maryn hale on Feb 4, 2020 22:27:26 GMT -5
Jane Hailsham was not a coward, but she still ran from her problems. It was easier that way — or so she had herself convinced. When her thoughts were too loud, and her emotions too high, she would find herself at the beach. It was her safe haven; one that she had only shared with those she trusted the most. And it was supposed to grant her freedom, but here she was. As she always was.
Roan was the first to stand on the shore with her, the boy that had blurred all the lines between ‘friend’ and ‘lover’ and ‘stranger.’ He was kind, and he was gentle, and Jane rushed so recklessly into their relationship — like she always had, like she always would. She was young, and she was foolish, and she told herself that she was in love before she even knew what that meant. Because it seemed like an adventure.
And then everything changed, and the friendship that had once been so dear to her became something forced. It was a game to her, and when she started to lose, she gave up without a fight. And it hurt to say that she pushed Roan away, but it wasn’t something she could deny. She put up a wall, throwing herself into her pranks and escape plans to avoid him — to avoid the fact that she had never loved him that way.
When he left her for Rose, for the songbird, she couldn’t blame him. And when their bond was broken beyond repair, to the point of silence and distance, she couldn’t hate him. It was her fault, her desperate need to be wild and free, and he deserved better. He deserved to be happy. Then the feelings returned, and this time they were real, but they were not for him. Wade was the second boy to climb over the gate with her.
And he was good, and he was brave, and he was slow where she was fast. He guided her ambition, turned her hope into something tangible, and he promised her that they would leave the island together. Jane, Wade, and Luke — a trio for the ages — a time bomb. And it detonated slowly, but surely. Luke became jealous, and Jane began to isolate herself again, and it was Wade who paid the price. There was no map to navigate what they felt.
But there was a raft, and a compass, and she told herself it would be okay. Even with Luke out of the equation, she was sure that their plan would still work. They’d do it after the Reaping, sneak away during the night and take on the sea. Her dream was in reach, with Wade by her side, and she couldn’t see the waves that were rolling in. Not until Cole was reaped, and Bell volunteered, and they came crashing down.
The hope in Wade’s eyes died quickly, like a lighthouse at the end of a long and faithful career. And she was lost without him — but she didn’t know how to hold him without hurting him, so she thought it was better to just let him go. The district turned its gaze to the Hailshams, and the institute raised its defenses, and they were stranded. Cole’s dying words were a light in the dark, a call for help.
Jane let herself believe that they could be saved. She waited for the authorities to storm in, for anyone, but when the officials finally came they spoke to Mother first. As if she was the victim in this, as if she deserved the opportunity to excuse the story. And she denied it all, of course. The only remaining chance was when the witness statements were summoned, and a group of children were selected to testify on the accusation. One of them was Wade.
Her heart swelled in her chest, lungs tight in anticipation. One day she would breathe free, and that day was on the horizon. Wade would tell the truth, and the horrors would be over, and maybe she could fix everything. She wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. But then the sky went dark, and the claims were declared false. She didn’t know if everyone but Wade had lied, or if he had also betrayed them.
She waited by his room to ask him, but he never returned. Someone came for his belongings, and when she began to panic that the worst had happened, the caretaker took her shoulder and told her that good news was on the way. But being hopeful had only ever left Jane disappointed. It was that night that they announced Wade had been adopted, on his way to the mainland and to a new guardian. There was a feast in his honor, a horribly happy celebration for something each of them wanted, but she didn’t stay for it.
Jane ran to the beach, as she always did, and tore the raft apart. Until there was nothing but driftwood left, and memories. She threw the compass into the ocean. And she didn’t cry, but her eyes were burning as she screamed. At the wind, and the sea, and Wade. She hoped he heard her. She would never forgive him for leaving her — and she would never forgive herself. She should have held him.
Months passed, and he never returned. He never wrote to her, and eventually they stopped speaking of him. And Jane was hopeless, and quiet, and no longer bright and charming and wild. She sat by the water, crossing her arms around her knees. The footsteps behind her were muffled, but she still turned to look over her shoulder. Luke Hailsham. She had never thought this story would end with the two of them.
Deb and Dan.
Jane and Wade.
Jane and Luke.
On her own.
Roan was the first to stand on the shore with her, the boy that had blurred all the lines between ‘friend’ and ‘lover’ and ‘stranger.’ He was kind, and he was gentle, and Jane rushed so recklessly into their relationship — like she always had, like she always would. She was young, and she was foolish, and she told herself that she was in love before she even knew what that meant. Because it seemed like an adventure.
And then everything changed, and the friendship that had once been so dear to her became something forced. It was a game to her, and when she started to lose, she gave up without a fight. And it hurt to say that she pushed Roan away, but it wasn’t something she could deny. She put up a wall, throwing herself into her pranks and escape plans to avoid him — to avoid the fact that she had never loved him that way.
When he left her for Rose, for the songbird, she couldn’t blame him. And when their bond was broken beyond repair, to the point of silence and distance, she couldn’t hate him. It was her fault, her desperate need to be wild and free, and he deserved better. He deserved to be happy. Then the feelings returned, and this time they were real, but they were not for him. Wade was the second boy to climb over the gate with her.
He was the first boy she ever truly loved.
And he was good, and he was brave, and he was slow where she was fast. He guided her ambition, turned her hope into something tangible, and he promised her that they would leave the island together. Jane, Wade, and Luke — a trio for the ages — a time bomb. And it detonated slowly, but surely. Luke became jealous, and Jane began to isolate herself again, and it was Wade who paid the price. There was no map to navigate what they felt.
But there was a raft, and a compass, and she told herself it would be okay. Even with Luke out of the equation, she was sure that their plan would still work. They’d do it after the Reaping, sneak away during the night and take on the sea. Her dream was in reach, with Wade by her side, and she couldn’t see the waves that were rolling in. Not until Cole was reaped, and Bell volunteered, and they came crashing down.
The hope in Wade’s eyes died quickly, like a lighthouse at the end of a long and faithful career. And she was lost without him — but she didn’t know how to hold him without hurting him, so she thought it was better to just let him go. The district turned its gaze to the Hailshams, and the institute raised its defenses, and they were stranded. Cole’s dying words were a light in the dark, a call for help.
Jane let herself believe that they could be saved. She waited for the authorities to storm in, for anyone, but when the officials finally came they spoke to Mother first. As if she was the victim in this, as if she deserved the opportunity to excuse the story. And she denied it all, of course. The only remaining chance was when the witness statements were summoned, and a group of children were selected to testify on the accusation. One of them was Wade.
Her heart swelled in her chest, lungs tight in anticipation. One day she would breathe free, and that day was on the horizon. Wade would tell the truth, and the horrors would be over, and maybe she could fix everything. She wouldn’t have to be afraid anymore. But then the sky went dark, and the claims were declared false. She didn’t know if everyone but Wade had lied, or if he had also betrayed them.
She waited by his room to ask him, but he never returned. Someone came for his belongings, and when she began to panic that the worst had happened, the caretaker took her shoulder and told her that good news was on the way. But being hopeful had only ever left Jane disappointed. It was that night that they announced Wade had been adopted, on his way to the mainland and to a new guardian. There was a feast in his honor, a horribly happy celebration for something each of them wanted, but she didn’t stay for it.
Jane ran to the beach, as she always did, and tore the raft apart. Until there was nothing but driftwood left, and memories. She threw the compass into the ocean. And she didn’t cry, but her eyes were burning as she screamed. At the wind, and the sea, and Wade. She hoped he heard her. She would never forgive him for leaving her — and she would never forgive herself. She should have held him.
Months passed, and he never returned. He never wrote to her, and eventually they stopped speaking of him. And Jane was hopeless, and quiet, and no longer bright and charming and wild. She sat by the water, crossing her arms around her knees. The footsteps behind her were muffled, but she still turned to look over her shoulder. Luke Hailsham. She had never thought this story would end with the two of them.
“He left us. I hate him for it.”
Jane and Luke.
