That night, I floated to sprawl half-naked on the couch, gorging myself on Rocky Road straight from the tub and watching some shitty romance movie on the living room T.V. All while the rest of my family was fast asleep, dreaming of Jen and Ian's glamorous wedding and sickeningly sweet relationship.
I was bitter. I'll admit it. I was confused and angry and scared and jealous and I had maybe ten unread notifications from Beau to boot. I saw he'd called me an hour ago and just ended up turning my phone off and shoving it in the depths of my nightstand, never again to see the light of day.
I had pretended to be asleep when Ma called for dinner then waited for everyone to go to bed before creeping from my room. My dad was on another business trip, so the house was quieter than usual this late—a perfect place to brood.
It was around 10 p.m. that a loud knock on the door startled me from my depressed stupor. Ready to ignore whatever psychopath was banging at it this late at night, I turned back to my movie and dug my spoon back into my ice cream.
The next time, the knock was louder. And then the next time, and the time after that. And eventually, I got so fed up with whoever was on my apartment floor banging on my door that I just gave up on my safety and decided to answer it.
Wrapped in nothing but baggy sweatpants and a blanket slung over my shoulders, I pulled the handle to find Jason on the other side, kicking the door loudly as a thin cloth bag occupied the space between his arms.
"What the fuck?" I asked.
"Thank God. You weren't picking up your phone," he sighed, looking up at me. Upon seeing his face, I was taken aback.
Jase's right cheek turning green and swollen, a thick sheen of sweat blanketing his face. The arm he had wrapped around the circumference of his bag was trembling and I could see his hand wrapped in haphazard gauze under the ripped sleeve of his sweater.
"What happened?" I asked, opening the door wider and beckoning them to come in. "Your mom?"
"Paul," he murmured, stepping inside with a tiny limp. "The twins are okay, they won't touch them. He just slapped me around a little."
I took his bag from him and grabbed at his free wrist. "What's with the gauze?"
Jason frowned. "He tried to get me with a bottle—nothing major. I'm fine."
"Did you get all the glass out?" I asked, closing the door and leading him to the kitchen.
"I don't know," Jase groaned, then paused at the mouth of the living room. "Jesus Christ, this looks depressing. Did you break up with your secret girlfriend or something? Was she the one that busted your cheek?"
"Long story," I sighed, passing him a glass of water. "Let me help you with your hand before it gets infected. Is there anything else you need? Food? Toilet? How's your leg?"
"My leg's fine with the pain meds they got me on, just a little limp-y. And I dunno'. Do you need anything? A hug? More ice cream?"
I gave him a deadpan look. "Very funny. Let me call Jen—"
"No," Jason clipped, whipping around. I raised a questioning brow at him and he was quick to elaborate. "No, because she might tip off the police. I can't make Kylie and Peter leave, they could be thrown into the system because I won't be able to afford to take care of them. They're safe there, and I can handle myself. It's for the best."
I bit my lip as my heart sank. "Jase..."
"Just trust me," he said, a plea glistening in his eyes, in the blood that dripped slowly into the collar of his sweater and turning the yellow fabric a coppery red. "I promise I'll be okay. I know how to call 9-1-1."
After a moment, I sighed, gesturing to his hand. "This is gonna' hurt a lot more if I do it."
Jase grinned smally. "I literally just sliced open my leg last night. I'm not a pussy."
And so, we made our way to the bathroom, where I helped Jason pull off his hoodie—noticing the pretty rose embroidery on the breast—and found a pair of sharp tweezers from the first aid kit under the sink. Carefully, I helped him out of his sweatshirt and took his arm into my left hand, pinching the tweezers in my right. The damage was substancial. I could see glittering pieces of brown glass shining in the open cuts, some so tiny I knew I'd have to dig them out with a little force and a Hell of a lot of pain.
"Bite your sleeve or something," I murmured. "Unless you wanna' slice your tongue off."
Jason scoffed, but obliged, giving me a thumbs up with his free hand.
It took maybe fifteen or twenty painful minutes to clean up the wound, all while silent tears dripped down Jase's cheeks and sweat gleamed across his naked chest. At some point, he convinced me to take a break so he could take a long sip of vodka from the bottle hidden in my room and swallow a couple of pain pills that I was sure were against his doctor's orders to be taking.
Upon convincing him to sit back down, my tweezers grabbed a thin piece of glass and wiggled it around to pry it free. Jason hissed in pain.
"Talk to me," he said, squinting his eyes tight. "Why were you... fuck, sad. Sad."
I could see it in the tension in his face that he wanted a distraction, so I gave one to him. "You know my hookup? H—sh... their guardians aren't all too excited with them seeing anyone. This morning we were almost caught, and it just... I don't know. It scared me. I don't think I can see them anymore."
Jason seemed not to notice my blunder through the combined haze of alcohol and pain. "Why not? Who cares what her parents think? It was just a booty call, right?"
I swallowed, placing the shard on the counter before moving to the next one. "It was supposed to be, at first. But the more we see each other, the more I think..."
Jason laughed, then yipped at the pain of moving his arm.
"Careful—"
"Luke has a crush," he chirped. "I never thought I'd see the day, you prude."
I felt my face heat. "It's not a crush—"
"Oh, it is definitely a crush," Jase said. "And don't deny it, not if you're scared of her parents."
My mouth clicked shut and, glaring at him, I grabbed the bottle of vodka and tipped an even shot into my mouth, wiped the dribble with the back of my hand. "You're an ass."
Jason laughed, watching me wipe my mouth on the back of my hand. "Can't believe you were making fun of me the other day. Just tell me about your mystery girl already. Why does it freak you out so much that you like her, anyway?"
"I dunno', just... we're in a weird situation," I muttered. "We're friends, but we're also fucking, which already makes everything fuzzy. And I think and the more I learn about... about her, the more I want to know. Like, her life is so... so big and scary but each time she tells me something, she makes more sense and it just makes me want to hug her and... is it crude to say fuck her?"
Jason smiled wickedly. "Did you forget who the Hell you're talking to?"
"Right," I said.
"The sex must be great then," Jase prodded, grimacing slightly as I sprayed an antiseptic over the cut.
"It's amazing," I sighed. "Like, h—she has these eyes and they're so blue, but also not really blue... and she looks at me while she's... you know. She's so... beautiful. Like nothing I've ever seen: she's strong, and lean, and it's definitely sexy but also just pretty. And the way her body moves is just... God, this is embarrassing."
"No, no," Jase muttered as I bandaged his arm. "Keep going."
"It's not just the sex," I continued after a beat of hesitation. "She flipped my fucking world upside down, changed everything I thought about myself and what I could feel once. And... you know, maybe she's doing it again. Even if I end things now, I won't be the same, and... I'm okay with it." My grip on Jason tightened. "But other people probably won't be."
I finished wrapping the gauze and looked up to see Jase watching me with curious eyes drooped with exhaustion and alcohol.
"I'm scared, Jase," I whispered. "There's a reason even you don't know who they are."
He looked me top to bottom with wide, green eyes, then shook his head. "Jesus Christ, Luke. You're gone."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean you like her a lot, Luke. And you and I both know you won't be able to just give her up."
"You don't—"
"I do," he pushed. "God, I know, Luke. I've been with a million girls, just for sex, and I haven't even felt the way you're feeling until... until Harper. And even though it's new, and kinda' scary... I think I could see her being something to me." Jase shook his head. "The way you're talking about your little secret Juliet is so familiar. And you'd be a fucking idiot to let her go because of something like reputation, because it's something hard to come by. I've spent years trying."
Don't let her go, Ian had said. You'll know. Did I know? I wasn't sure if I did, but I also wasn't sure if I didn't.
I felt a lump in the back of my throat. "But... Jase, what if my family hates me? What if... what if I ruin my future? What if you hate me?"
Jason slid off the counter and, without a word, wrapped me in a hug. His skin was warm under my hands as I smoothed my palms around his back and felt him squeeze me close. He smelled like alcohol and blood and woodsy shampoo.
"There's no girl you could fuck that would make me hate you," he said.
I squeezed him back, looking over his shoulder and into the dark corner behind the sink. "I know."
*+*❅*+*
Jase was sitting on my bed, pulling a little sewing kit from his bag and fixing the ripped sleeve of his sweatshirt while I sat at my desk chair, staring at the pattering rain gliding down the pane of my window.
"Good as new," he mused, cutting the thread he was pulling. Jase held up his sweater with a grin. "Can't even tell it was ripped."
"I can't believe I didn't know you could sew," I told him, taking the sweater to examine the stitch work. It was seamless: unless you really looked for it, it was like the rip was never there.
"I don't really advertise," Jason chuckled, folding the sweater inside out. The little embroidered piece on the chest was backed by a cut-out white base that he ran his fingernail through, strumming the loops of color. "I did the embroidery here, too. Took me ages."
"No, really, how did I not know this?" I asked. "It looks professional, and the Halloween costume you leant me..."
"I mostly do it at school, to be honest," Jason said. "I sit in the home ec' class, sometimes I'll bring my own fabric for bigger pieces. I'm kinda' friends with Mr. Hall since he taught me the basics. I guess I just... really like it. Like, love it."
"Why don't you tell people?" I shook my head. "Like, you could sell this stuff. It's really good."
He shrugged. "I don't keep it a huge secret. I wear my own stuff all the time, but I don't really like to talk about it. It's embarrassing, you know? Feels girly. Besides, if my mom or Paul found out..."
My smile melted. I rolled my chair to my dresser, opening one of the messy drawers at the top. "Before I forget. Let me... get you something."
"If you pull out a fucking condom, I'll—"
I held out the small ring and its charm. "Shut the fuck up or I might change my mind."
Jason's eyebrows shot up. "What is that?"
"A key. To my apartment, in case you ever need anything."
He ripped his hands back. "I can't take that—"
"Why not?" I asked. "I wouldn't be offering if I wasn't serious, so... please."
Tentatively, Jase took the key from my hand and put it in his bag. "Thanks, Luke. Really. It means a lot."
"You mean a lot to me, Jase," I said, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. "All I want for you is to be safe and happy."
His hand jumped on top of mine and squeezed, and his smile matched the lightness in his eyes. "I know."
We fell asleep smoking whatever Jason brought in his backpack and laughing about something I can't remember. My phone sat in the bottom of my nightstand, a forgotten, rotting corpse begging to haunt me. But not tonight.
[a/n] hello wonderful readers!! just a little note that this is probably gonna be the last chapter for a while because examsssss are kicking my flat ass. i have to not fail to go to uni so pray for me :')
but regardless, hope this satiated a little of the tension from last chapter!! loads of love <3