Who Knew

⭒ chapter one, part two: moon light ⭒

⭒⭒⭒

"Mom, why don't me and B tell you all about the regatta in the basement, that way I can play you the clips on the projector and really, you know, walk you through it." Olive cuts in, knowing damn well that this is about to get ugly. I bid her adieu as she lifts my legs off her lap, grabs B by the forearm, and leads him and her mom to the basement stairs. 

"Oh, baby that sounds lovely, thank you!" Mrs. Verona exclaims, clearly buying every ounce of bullshit that Olive was trying to sell. I smile at them, making a mental note to thank Olive with loads of chocolate and kisses the next time I see her. 

Jason slowly walked towards me, daggers shooting out of his dangerously alluring whiskey eyes. "I know damn well that you did not just try and one up me with MY MOTHER." Jason yells, raising his voice at the end. He sits down on the ottoman in front of me and we lean in close, just inches apart. Shit, we're close enough to kiss. I think as my eyes flicker down to his lips. No no no. Stupid brain you need to shut the fuck up, we are NOT kissing satan himself.  I slowly look him up and down, trying to play it off like I was mocking him. 

"You and I both know that there is no 'one upping' with your mother. She will always like me more for one reason, and one reason only: I have never once, in the entire time I've known her, cussed in front of her or said anything crass or vulgar. To her, I am the perfect child where as you; you're a hell child, darling." I said smugly, leaning back into the couch. He stared at me with those stupid fucking eyes for what felt like hours. After a while he leaned back as well and scoffed.

"So what you're trying to say is that my mom only liked you because you hide who you really are?" He says, clearly mocking me.

"No, asshole, I'm saying she likes me because I have this little thing called A FILTER." I said, starting to get mad. If this asshole legitimately thinks that he is a better person than me, then he must be more insane than I thought. "You have no idea how stupid you sound, J. I cannot believe you have the fucking audacity to walk in here and shit on me for a joke that wasn't meant to target you at all. You know, this is your fucking problem, you're so goddamn narcissistic that everything that comes out of my mouth is about you. Well news flash Jason not everyone is fucking obsessed with you, some people actually know you. So please, for the love of god, Jason pull your head out of your ass, and fucking get over yourself." I sighed angrily and got up, about to leave when he grabs my arm and pins me pack down on the couch with his arms.

"Hell no. You don't get to say all that shit and then walk away." I struggled against his grip, but he held strong. "Listen to me when I tell you that I am not the piece of shit you make me out to be. If you would just give me a chance then maybe you wouldn't hate me so damn much." He said, much softer than before.

"Don't make it like this is my fault, J, because it's not. I wouldn't even know your name if it wasn't for your bullshit. You  are the one that started it all back in 6th grade art. I was just minding my own damn business but you had to go and act like a jealous asshole because Abby talked to me more than you. Well guess what J, we aren't 11 anymore so stop acting like it, it's fucking exhausting." He tightened his grip again, staring down at me.

"Do. Not. Talk. About. Abby." He says, slightly shaking me with each word. "This has nothing to do with her. I don't know what all the Bull Row kids told you but it was never like that, she was my best friend, nothing more... and now, way less." He was squeezing my arms hard now. It didn't actually hurt but he didn't know that. Using that to my advantage, I finally said something.

"Jason, please, you're hurting me." I whimpered. He immediately let go, guilt taking over his strong, hard features. He ran his long fingers through his thick, dark brown hair and started to walk away.