' contrast ' - jason mccann

5

Two weeks.

It had been two whole ass, full ass weeks since Jason took me to lunch. And two weeks since I've seen him, or even heard from him. I looked back the texts I'd sent him and sighed. I didn't really realize I was obsessing until my mom pointed it out.

"Who are you texting?" She'd asked, taking a large bit of kale salad. She'd just gotten home from her trip and wanted to have a decent mother-daughter day before she had to head to Toronto for another meeting. I looked up quickly and locked my phone.

"Oh, no one," I assured, diving into my pasta. I was actually sending my fourth, consecutive, unanswered text to Jason, asking if he wanted to make plans.

"Is it a boy," she said, squinting at me.

"No," I replied simply, moving shrimp scampi in my mouth.

"Oh my God, it is! Vivian Velma Valentine, do you have a boyfriend?"

I nearly choked on my angel hair pasta due to her accusation, and cringed at her use of my forbidden middle name. "No! God, no, he's just a kid I'm tutoring, okay? Just leave it alone."

"Is he cute? Does he have good grades? Wait, obviously not if you're tutoring him. Do you want him to be your boyfriend?"

"Mom!" I interjected. "No, okay? I'm just helping him with history, that's all." I wasn't shocked by her enthusiasm, I was actually expecting it. Because she met my dad and started dating him in high school, she wanted me to do the same. She suspected every single male that came around me, I wanted to be my future husband.

"Hm," she pursed, cutting me a suspicious look. I rolled my eyes slightly and continued eating.

-

Three o'clock.

Three o'clock in the morning on Sunday was when Jason Mccann decided to climb back in my life. Literally.

My house is not small, and my room is on the second level, so don't ask me how he did it, but its was promptly 3:06 A.M. when my phone rang. I picked it up groggily, and slid over, answering it before checking the caller I.D.

"What," I mumbled aggressively.

The person clicked their tongue. "Now that is no way to speak to your favorite drug dealer, Vivian Valentine."

I was suddenly wide awake. "Jason?"

"You sound shocked," he chuckled. "Hey, do me a solid, open your balcony for me, yeah?"

"Why?"

"You and your hundred questions, man. Just do it, alright, it'll be good."

I sighed and tossed my blankets off, walking to my balcony. I paused at the door. "If something jumps out and scares me I'm beating your ass, and that is a promise."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he chanted. "Just open it, come  on."

I slowly pulled my blinds aside to see a sliver of a person on my porch.

"Jason, please, please, please tell me you're standing on my balcony in a black hoodie, sweats, and Huaraches, please, God," I whispered. He laughed and I heard it coming from the phone and outside. I let out a breath and threw my blinds aside. I was faced with a grinning Jason, in all his glory, staring right back at me. I unlocked the door, and slid it open, letting him in.

"Hey, Cupid," he beamed. "Get it, cause Valentine's Day? And Cupid? And your last name?"

I ignored his stupid joke and hugged him. Before I could fully rejoice, I heard light footsteps in the hall. "Fuck."