bitter | e.d

| twenty-seven

the choice seems obvious enough.

sitting with jack is a bad idea. he's manipulative and dangerous and we have history. bad history. history that he will have fun dredging back up if I sit with him. the only problem with that is, me and grayson have bad history, too. 

I need to stop making enemies.

that night in his car with grayson is a night I will regret for the rest of my life. truly a low point of mine. I hate the way I behaved towards him.

still, grayson is the lesser of two evils. he doesn't hate me like jack does. at least, I think he doesn't. the worst I did was beg him for sex, and that has to be flattering in some way, right? an ego boost, perhaps? 

except for the part where I was actually using him to get to his brother. 

I finally walk to where grayson is sitting with his head resting against the window. he has his eyes closed, earbuds in, and hood up like he doesn't want to be disturbed. rather than wake him, I decide to just sit in the empty space next to him. I've never been one to care about asking permission. the spot is clearly empty. 

in my peripheral vision, I notice him open his eyes and pull back his hood in order to see me. I give him a sweet and innocent smile, trying to make a good impression. he surprisingly grins back with suspicious eyes.

he clears his throat. "you look like you're lost," he rests back against the window again but remains facing me. 

"no, I don't think so," I quip while letting my eyes scan the bus. "yeah, no. not lost."

"you sure about that? I must've missed the part where you told me you were gonna sit with me for seven fucking hours." he crosses his arms, his eyes looking sternly at me. "you've got the wrong seat."

any optimism I had about how this situation would go quickly diminishes. grayson still isn't very fond of me, making his annoyance at my presence damn crystal clear. 

I look to where jack is sitting, the seat next to him still empty. a sick feeling starts to churn in my stomach at the thought of having to spend seven hours next to him with nowhere to go. 

my focus returns to grayson. "listen, I'm not even supposed to be on this fucking bus but shit happens. I get it, you're still butthurt over me calling you useless and giving you blue balls but grow a pair and get over it, alright?"

he licks the inside of his cheek. "you're just as desperate as you were that night," he remarks. "some things just don't change, huh?" 

that stung. I force myself to ignore it. "it was so long ago, grayson. and it's not like anyone else is using this seat, so-"

"excuse me?" a girl's voice interrupts me. I turn my head to where she's standing in the aisle of the bus and immediately notice her dangly belly button ring in my face twinkling in the light from the windows. janet mitchell. "that's my seat."

to say janet gets around would be a massive understatement. every guy at my school has crushed on her at one point or another, especially after puberty hit her in the ninth grade and she upgraded to a d-cup bra and learned how to accentuate her body properly. her belly button ring and nipple piercings are irresistible to these simple-minded boys. 

janet taps my shoulder impatiently, returning my focus. "you seem slow so I'll repeat myself. that's my seat." she says this while bending to eye level with me, as if I'm a child. "get up."

I hear grayson laugh under his breath. "ease up on her, jan. she's just a kid."

I feel my face get hot out of embarrassment. just a kid?  I stand up, feeling incredibly stupid. before I leave, my stubbornness refuses to let them have the last word. "oh, my bad. I forgot a man-whore needs his toys. please, after you, janet."