Intoxicated

Chapter Twenty

What the fuck doesn't even cut it. What nerve does he have showing up here, in my house? How does he even know where I live? He looks at me, gripping either side of the hem of his shirt. All I want to do is punch him square in the face. Dad surveys mine, his forehead crinkling a little.

I force a smile, trying not to bare my teeth. "Right," I reply, shoving my hands in my pocket to prevent them from closing around his throat. "I almost forgot. Come upstairs with me and we'll quickly go over them, okay? I have some stuff to do soon." Like greeting your face with my fist, you piece of shit.

He jerks his head. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Thanks."

Dad eyes us suspiciously before giving a quick smile. "All right," he clears his throat, lumbering back to the kitchen as we head for the stairs. "Just er, keep the door open."

I grip the railings hard. Did he seriously just say that? My insides twist with disgust. Dad is usually trusting and chill, especially with Alex. Was. He must've sensed something was going on and doesn't know what. Unfortunately, neither do I - but Jace wouldn't turn up to my house after all he's done unless it was significant.

It better be. It might be about Alex. Or Sadie, I realise - and I'm not sure which one I'm most hopeful for.

We enter my room, and all of a sudden, I don't know what do to. Do I sit down? Stand? Make him sit down as a power move? I can't help but close the door slightly, afraid Dad will hear. He hovers just in front of me, back arched with his arms folded. As if he doesn't know what to do with them.

Keep them to yourself, for one. "Just go sit on the bed," I instruct, though my voice doesn't sound as assertive as I'd like. "I'll grab some books to make it look like we're actually doing homework."

He just nods and sits down at the end of my bed, hands now clasped together. I feel his eyes on me as I grab some books from my desk, and wonder what he's thinking about. My chest feels like it's being squeezed. What if he's staring at my ass or something?

I push the thought away and swallow hard, turning to face him. Without a word, I chuck the books beside him. "Open them up, scatter the paper around." I sit down beside him, growing unnaturally still as he shuffles about the books.

When he's done, he looks at me, and I see something I've never seen on his face before - fear. His face is gray, and his mouth is practically clamped shut.

I don't know what to think. "Why'd you come here?" I ask, staring into his dark, wide eyes that are fixed on mine. "How do you even know where I live?"

He flicks his tongue over his thin lips. "I followed you," he confesses, not meeting my eyes now. "I saw Noah driving you home."

Does everyone know where I live? I thought no one bothered to notice my existence, let alone where I exist. Is the town really that small? "And that's not creepy at all," I comment, shifting uncomfortably.

He hangs his head before lifting it. "Look, I know I have no right to be here and no right to talk to you after..." he grimaces, and rubs his knuckles with his other hand. "I'm sorry. I really am. What I did was seriously fucked up, and I don't know why I did it. I don't expect you to forgive me or whatever, and I know I can't change what I did. I'm just... I'm sorry."

Jace's voice is the definition of bleak, and his face is shadowed with despair. God knows how far he's sunk to end up here, apologising, to me of all people - after all this time. But I know that guilt isn't the only thing that brought him here. At least, not his guilt of what he's done to me, otherwise this would've happened ages ago.