BANGERZ (2014)

10. Open Book

I turn the water on hot and plow through a quick shower - it helps clear my head and I'm able to sort through my thoughts. This kind of just makes my head hurt more because I remember everything Miley told me yesterday. How am I going to face Jason now? I still just want to hug him. I don't think he'll respond well to that. And I'm not so sure I should let on that I know about his depression. Miley mentioned it by accident, just like she noticed the Adderall on my sink. I don't think she'll tell anyone though. She's not the prying type, and neither am I. I'm simply curious.

Speaking of Adderall, I shove three capsules into my mouth and down them with tap water. I'm not risking sleep anymore. I feel the spike of energy and alertness as I dress quickly in faded denim skinnies, a cropped blue crewneck pullover, and white Converse. I fit a grey beanie over my thick, soft-black waves and swipe on my eyeliner and lipstick. By the time I knot a red plaid flannel around my waist and bound down the stairs, a text lands in my phone from Jason, letting me know that he's outside.

I grab a Pop Tart on my way out the door and notice Danny's passed out on the couch. He's dressed in the tie and dress pants he wore yesterday, and it's eerily similar to my dream. I throw a pillow at his face.

"Danny, wake up! It's past eight. You overslept. I have to go. I have a ride. Bye! Love ya!"

Outside Jason is perched on the edge of his hood, arms crossed. He makes yellow/blue plaid and a jean jacket look better than they ever should. His gaze runs up and down my body when I come to a stop in front of him, and he gives me that smirk that hits me like a cannonball. Like a McCannonball.

Shut up, my better-badder-bolder twin sneers. That was lame as hell.

"You look good, baby girl," Jason acknowledges, interrupting my personality war. He moves to open the passenger door and leans on it expectantly, waiting for me to enter.

"Thanks." I step forward and settle in. At least I'm smiling more than I'm flushing. That's a start. I unwrap the foil over my pitiful but practical breakfast, and am already offering Jason one as he gets into the driver's side.

He looks down at the pastry and raises his eyebrows at me before accepting it. But he smiles a little bit. Either I amuse him or he really likes Brown Sugar Cinnamon.

"No coffee?" he muses as he starts driving.

"Haha. I don't really drink it that much, actually."

"But you work at a coffee shop." His mouth twists at the irony.

My twin suddenly gains control and speaks for me. "Well, you work with drugs and shipments. Does that mean you take what you deliver?"

Dayum! Where'd that come from? We stop at a light and Jason turns to me with the face I imagined over the phone: raised eyebrow, lips tilted up in a smirk, eyes gazing at me like he can see right through me. He's surprised by my audacity again, and I worry that he doesn't exactly like it.

"I just meant - I only drink it at night sometimes to keep me awake," I amend. My boldness fades under his gaze. I nibble at my Pop Tart, feeling totally lame.

He doesn't answer right away. The light changes and he pulls forward, flooring the gas and driving a little faster than before. Did I make him mad?

"So you only drink it when you need it," he replies at last. He focuses on the road. "Just like I only take what I need, when I need it." Here he glances over and drifts his eyes down my body again. It's so suggestive and naughty somehow. My heart skips a beat.

I press my lips together and turn to look out the window, flushing.

"What days do you work?" he asks me eventually.