Love and Ambition

9 - Under The Macho Exterior

Jason led me to his room. He creaks the door open, tip-toeing in just in case his roommate's asleep. He turns back at me with a soft smile on his face, nodding his head that the coast is clear.

"I think he's crashing at his girlfriend's," he says, moving towards his closet. I sit on the edge of his bed, swinging my legs as I wait for the alcohol that Jason apparently has stashed.

With a bright smile on his face, Jason pulls out a small bottle of Jack Daniel's and takes a shot straight from the bottle. He shakes his head and scrunches his nose before handing it to me. I feel the whiskey burn my throat and then my stomach, making my arms and legs feel light. A feeling I'll never get tired of.

"So," Jason plops on the space beside me, making the bed bounce. "How does the first weekend without Mr. Toxic feel?"

I roll my eyes. "No, no, no," I take mouthful of whiskey and gulping it down, the alcohol burning my nose. "We've talked a lot about me. I want to know more about this mysterious Jason."

I giggle. I don't know why, but I giggled. "I know you study psychology. So I know you're weird and mysterious," I manage to look at Jason after that comment blurted out of my mouth, "but what else is hidden in that macho exterior of yours." 

Jason takes a breath as he chuckles. I offer him back the whiskey and he takes a shot, wiping his mouth after. "There's nothing interesting with a small-town nobody."

"Come on!" I slap his shoulder. "Clark Kent came from a small town and he's a superhero."

My head spins as it feels light, but the whiskey in Jason's hand calls out to me. I attempt to grab it, but Jason pulls it away, making me land on top of his lap. I stare up at him, a pout on my face.

"I think that's enough for a while," he caps the bottle, then placing it on the bedside table. He nuzzles his head on his pillow, dragging his legs in as my head drops on the mattress.

The shine from the ceiling light causes my eyes to feel heavy. I turn them off and turn on the lamp on his bedside table, creeping in to the small space beside him. This tiny single bed surprisingly has space for two people. 

My heart pounds in my ears as the alcohol takes its effect on me. I take a deep breath, hoping it would stop the room from spinning.

"There was this girl," Jason's voice became soft. "She... Had an attitude that always made me smile. Really sassy. She pointed out everything that I was doing wrong—even though I knew better. But most of all, she pointed out how uptight I was." He chuckled at this.

"She was beautiful, too. She had almond shaped eyes and auburn color; they squinted when she smiled real hard after a pun she made," he smiled at this. 

Even in the dimness, I see his eyes searching the ceiling as if he could see her. The tips of his lips turned to a small smile. 

"She didn't know, but she's always filled my days with meaning. We went on crazy adventures together, even if it was only here," he motions around the room, "in this small town."

He takes a breath. "She was young, you know, but she had this fire in her."

A still silence between us. He's drifted off in his thoughts; the curled lip now showing a slight frown. 

I hear his heart racing.

"Hey," I turn to him. A teardrop shines under the warm light of the lamp. "She sounds like she meant a lot to you," I wipe it from his face and turn him to me.

We lock eyes. His fading blues dragging me into the little story he told. I feel what he feels: empty. Empty from the void that people have left behind. I don't dare ask him what happened. I have a feeling I'd need to tread slowly through that memory.

Millions of questions fogged my brain. 

Until our lips touched.