"Hold your tongue and hear me out" –Zedd & Hayley Williams, Stay the Night
********************************
I felt considerably better when I got outside. Cold air assailed me, awakened my lethargic limbs and settled my stomach. Until, of course, I doubled over and threw up again. At some point, my braid had come undone, so there was the added inconvenience of trying to ensure that no vomit got into my hair.
Just perfect.
Slightly dizzy, I straightened up, combing my hands in my hair, trying to get it to fall over my back. Noise in the parking lot made my headache worse. I needed to curl up somewhere warm and dark and pretend the last three hours hadn't happened.
I couldn't do that with Jake beside me, though.
"I'm taking you home," he announced. It felt like déjà vu. "Got my truck tonight, so no arguments about my goddamn safety."
I wasn't in an argumentative mood today, so he had nothing to worry about. Truthfully, I was more than grateful he was there.
"Sorry about your boots," I mumbled, allowing him to take my hand and lead me to his black pickup, which was fortunately close by.
He didn't reply as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door. "Get in."
I hoisted myself onto the seat with no effort, but obviously, I ended up bumping my head on the roof.
"Damn it," I muttered, glaring at Jake as he slammed my door shut. A simple apology on behalf of his stupid car would've sufficed. My head was already pounding enough as it was.
"Buckle up," Jake grunted once he was inside, "and try not to upchuck all over my baby."
"I said I was sorry," I told him, fumbling with my seatbelt. For some reason – fine, because I was totally shitfaced – it was like forcing a square into a triangular hole.
Jake pushed my hands away, strapping me in himself. I felt all of two-years-old.
"Was this your first time drinking?" he asked, once we were on the road. He kept his gaze on the car in front of us.
"No, Jake. Contrary to popular belief, alcohol has passed these lips before, and it wasn't mouthwash or Communion wine."
He laughed, flipping a dial to turn the heater on. "You still feeling nauseous?"
I sucked in air, considering this. "I don't think so. Again, I'm really sorry about your –"
"Maya, for the love of God, forget about my damn shoes. They can be washed."
I fell silent. A million thoughts swirled in my head. Dangerous thoughts. Impractical thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't filter before they became actual words.
"Do you think about her?"
Passing lights illuminated Jake's face and shadows played across his skin, making him look intimidating. His eyes slid in my direction.
"Every day," he replied.
He didn't even have to ask who "her" was.
"Does Ghost ever talk about her?"
I saw Jake's jaw clench, saw how his grip tightened on the steering wheel. "Maya, I can't –"
"She could never resist the bad boys. The bad boys are always the stupid ones."
"Did you just call me stupid?"
"You are stupid. So fucķing stupid you got my cousin killed."
The car jerked to a stop. When I glanced out the window, we were in my apartment complex. I didn't want to be trapped in the car with Jacob Ford anymore, so I shoved my door open and made a move to escape.
"Get off me!" I shrieked, fighting with my seatbelt. It refused to budge, refused to listen.
"Maya, calm the fuck down. Hold up a sec." Jake's hands were there and suddenly, I was no longer restrained.
I stumbled forward, almost introducing my face to the asphalt. Stupid truck. Stupid driver.
"I don't feel too hot," I whimpered, clutching my head.
"You don't look it, either," Jake muttered. "Come on, babe."
I felt his hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. I wanted to tell him not to touch me, that I didn't even want him here anymore, but the words wouldn't come out.
The instant he got me into my apartment, I staggered towards the bathroom to hug the toilet. Jake followed me, tugging my hair out of my face.
"Never...again," I gasped, wrinkling my nose at the taste of bile in my mouth.
"That's what we all say," he said dryly.
Some vomit had gotten down my front and, despite Jake's best efforts, was probably in my hair, too. I was already starting to sober up. Now I remembered why I didn't drink. It wasn't worth this feeling.
After spending several more minutes on my knees praying to the porcelain bowl, I conceded that I was finished. My brain still felt fuzzy and I found that getting onto my feet was more complicated than it really seemed. But Jake was there; helping me to my feet, relieving me of my T-shirt... Wait – what?
"What are you doing?" I wanted to know, even as I raised my arms to allow him to slip my T-shirt over my head.
"You're dirty," he grunted, keeping a steadfast gaze above my shoulders. Commendable, really, until his eyes inevitably swung low. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, reaching out to trace a finger down my bra strap.
My brow creased. "What. Are. You. Doing."
Jake looped his finger and pulled my strap down my shoulder. "Your shoulders," he said, in a gentle voice that admittedly sent the wrong kind of shiver down my spine. "Why are you wearing a bra that's obviously two fuckıng sizes small?"
I felt heat creep up my neck. "Because it offers more support."
"And it's hurting you." His hand removed my other strap, his fingers tracing the red welt there. It felt strange, having him touch me there. Like a tickle, but a tickle that didn't make me laugh.
"This is weird, Jake. Stop making this weird."
His hand dropped and he cleared his throat. "It's late. You should crash."
"Then get out. Please," I added.
Without question, he left, and I locked the door behind him. After stripping completely and thoroughly brushing my teeth, I scrutinized the pink welts running down both shoulders. Yeah, they were bad, but it was the price I had to pay so that my breasts wouldn't make me uncomfortable. Short of binding my breasts, wearing smaller bras with underwire support was the best solution for me. My friends didn't understand this, and obviously, neither did Jake.
Jake has seen me in my bra...
I couldn't think about that. Not right now. Going out tonight was an idiotic move. Instead of running away from Sebastian, I should've sat down and talked to him. Listed all the reasons I had every right to be mad at him. Listened to his sincere apology. Been a good girlfriend.
The instant I left my bathroom and found Jake at my vanity table, I should've kicked him out. I mean, on any other given day, that's what I would have done.
But I didn't.
No, I said the words I'd never in a million years thought I'd ever say to Jacob Ford.
"Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"
He turned to face me, looking so big and out of place in my room it was almost comical.
"Sure," he said slowly, "but first, put some goddamn clothes on."
***
"Luke! Open the door! I can hear your phone."
I banged on the door a couple more times, sure that I would be disturbing the few people in Luke's building who didn't go to work before ten a.m.
Bribery was my last resort.
"I brought muffins from the Coffee Maker," I yelled. "They have chocolate chips in them."
The door was unlocked and opened so fast, I took a surprised step backwards.
That might also have been because Luke looked like total crap.
"What happened to you?" I whispered, in awe. He was bloodshot and unshaven, in a pair of old basketball shorts and nothing else.
"Give me the sweet stuff, Maya. I'm not playing with you," he rasped, arm outstretched.
"Invite me in."
"This isn't the fucķing Vampire Diaries," he growled, snatching the paper bag from my hand and stalking back into his apartment. It was a beautiful place; open-plan and spacious, and on the second floor of a six-storey building.
I followed him in, shooting daggers at his back. "Don't bite my head off. I didn't come here for that."
"Then why did you come here?" Luke said from the kitchen. "Because if you even mention your friend's name, I will haul your little cappuccino ass out of here with no regrets, I promise you."
"You need to stop taking your misery out on me, or I will kick your little cappuccino butt and tweet your friends about it."
He glared at me, taking a large bite of his muffin and letting out a very unmanly sigh of pleasure. "I needed that. Probably the only orgasm I'm gonna have for a long time," he muttered.
"I did not need to know that. You and Kira are more alike than you know."
Luke's eyes narrowed. "Maya, what did I say about three minutes ago?"
I held my hands up in surrender before kicking my flip-flops off and plopping onto one of the couches surrounding his entertainment system. "Why aren't you at school?" Since the kitchen was behind me, I couldn't see Luke anymore.
"I don't know, Maya. Maybe because the principal thinks I cheated on his daughter?"
"But you did cheat. Kissing counts."
"Thanks, genius. I had no fucķing idea."
I sat up, frowning at him. "Now you're being childish."
He let out a heavy sigh. "I know. Sorry, M." He left the kitchen and sat on the armchair opposite me. "I've been calling Claire nonstop. She won't take my calls. I send her texts, email her, stalk her damn Facebook – nothing. I'm so whipped I even leave fucking voicemail messages."
I wanted to be sympathetic – really, I did – but it was kind of hard to do that when he was in the wrong.
"Why did you kiss Kira?" I asked him.
He stopped tapping his fingers on his knees, his eyes meeting mine. "Did she tell you I kissed her? That's a goddamn lie and she knows it!"
"Semantics, Luke, but whatever. Let me rephrase. Why did you kiss her back?"
His jaw visibly tensed. "I don't want to talk about it."
"I'm your friend. If you can't talk about it with me, who can you talk to?"
He seemed to carefully consider his options before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "Guess I can't make this any worse than it already is." He paused. "I'm...attracted to her. To Kira."
"Called it."
"What?"
It was my turn to shrug. "There's a thin line between love and hate, and you and Kira? Your line was microscopic."
Luke gritted his teeth together. "I didn't say anything about love. I said she's hot."
"Yeah. I know. So...what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing. Because I love Claire, and she's who I'm supposed to be with."
"Well, you need to apologize to Kira. You can't attack her like she's to blame for your attraction to her," I told him, folding my arms across my chest.
Luke looked away. "I said some nasty shit to her. She told you?"
"Of course, she told me! How could you be so stupid?"
He didn't argue with me. "I'll apologize."
"Thank you."
A heavy silence fell between us, until, "So how are things with you and Sebastian?"
Do not blush... Do not blush...
"We're OK," I muttered, picking at a loose thread on my T-shirt. Like Luke, I hadn't put much effort into what I was wearing. Heck, the sweatpants I was wearing had a stubborn coffee stain on one leg.
"Just OK? Isn't anything ever great with that guy?"
"Luke, shut up. I didn't come here to have my relationship analyzed by a cheater."
"Damn."
I covered my mouth, groaning. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that, I swear."
"Maya, it's cool. It is what it is." He stood, stretching. "I gotta take a shower. You staying or leaving?"
"Leaving. I need to do a little shopping." I got to my feet as well, sticking my feet into my flops.
"Maya?"
"Hmm?"
"If you were Claire," Luke began, "would you take me back?"
Instead of giving him an answer, I went to give him a big hug. He looked like he really needed one.