Rigby

Chapter 6

Michael sat silently beside me on the loveseat as Matt and Jess played full-contact video games. Without taking their eyes off the screen, they'd throw jabs at each other to throw off their game; it would have been entertaining if I hadn't been so distracted. Jacob had gone to his room without another word to me or anyone else. This chill of his departure froze me to my core.

"Where do you think Jacob is?" I tried to sound casual, but failed.

"He's in his room," Michael absently answered.

I chewed on my lip as I watched Jess and Matt a bit more.

"You can go talk to him if you want. His room is the second to last on the left." He paused for a moment before adding, "he won't be coming back down, though."

"Did you get the sense that he was mad at me? I got the sense he was mad at me."

"I got that." Michael shrugged. "Jacob's moody; who knows?"

I sat there for a few minutes, partly trying to regain my earlier resolve and partly trying to figure out what I had done to upset him.

"If you want a reason to go up, bring scotch," Michael finally murmured.

"Thanks," I said.

It was all the excuse I needed. Jacob left the bottle in the kitchen, and I grabbed it there. I paused in front of his door, frozen. I was prepared for most of the sides to Jacob: the puzzle, the mocker, the stoic anger. I just didn't want to see the hurt that had briefly crossed his face. My knocking snapped me back from my thoughts.

"Hello, Riley," he said after opening the door.

"Hello." My voice was back to being shy. "Michael thought you might want this," I offered as I held up the bottle.

"Michael knows I keep my room stocked." Still, he took the bottle from me and returned to his desk chair. He slid open his bottom drawer to reveal three bottles of scotch already inside.

"Did I upset you?"

"No, you did not upset me." I heard his words, his empty tone, but his eyes didn't meet mine.

"Okay, well, I'll go then." I didn't want to leave, but I couldn't think of a valid reason to stay.

"Wait." His voice sliced through the air like a bullet and caused me to freeze.

He rose and opened the door further, properly welcoming me in with a wave of his hand. He shut the door behind me and let himself fall against it as he watched me settle on his tattered green loveseat.

"Why did you take my hand today?" His expression was placid.

"When you suggested I go without you, there was a moment; something crossed your eyes." I met his empty eyes as I continued. "It looked like pain or fear or fear of pain. I didn't like it."

"I don't like to be used," he asserted.

"I wasn't using you." My volume rose with argument.

"Really? You did not use me to upset Joey?"

It made sense now. Our closeness had enraged Joey, and something inside the reaction satisfied me. In a way, I had been using Jacob, but not consciously.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." my words trailed off with shame.

"But you did, and you admit it."

"It wasn't my intention, but Joey's reaction was satisfying."

The hint of a smile crossed his face. "I am aware of how satisfying pissing him off can be."

"We're terrible people."