bad expectations | jfg

63

After getting my head screwed on, sort of straight, I made the decision that I in fact was going to sneak out of Johnson's house. At 4AM. On a Wednesday night.

The whole "staying away from him" thing didn't make any sense, we were both twenty and didn't need to be told anything. I know the police would do anything anyway just because they know my dad, but it's not fair. I want to see him, and he has to want to see me.

I snuck into Johnson's room and stole his keys before heading to the iconic house only a few blocks away. I felt guilty, like I wasn't listening to my dads directions, but I'm old and independent and know what I should do and what I shouldn't do.

I don't know what I'm going to say, but I am going to yell at him. We will fight. I don't want to, but he needs to get himself checked and realize that when serious and frantic things happen, you can't just break someone's arm. I never needed him to change for me, but he wanted to, I know he does, so he needs to stop this.

I want him to speak to me so we can get everything settled that we need to. But I'm just afraid that when I meet eyes with his, I'll forget everything I'm supposed to say, or I'll be faced with the Jack he's trying to get away from, I don't want him to be angry or sad. But I know he is.

I need to be strong around him. I'm excited to see him for the first time in a few months, ecstatic really, but I have things to say, and he does as well.

When I knock on his door, rather loudly, I already know what that he's sleeping, so I wait patiently. I attempt to gather the things I'm going to say and the more I wait, the more my stomach turns. I'm going to see him, finally. But I'm mad. Please remember that you're mad at him.

The door clicks and my heart leaps. Well, pops really once I see a shirtless Jack Gilinsky rubbing his eyes with his big hands and yawning as if he's the most tired person in the world.

The sides of my mouth turn up and I immediately want to wrap my arms around his perfect stomach, remember what you have to say.

After rubbing his eyes, he pries them open so he can see me through the small slits, and when he does, they widen all the way.

"Taylor?" I expect him to extend his arms out and grab my shoulders, I feel like he debates whether or not to. But he doesn't. "What are you doing here?"

I'm taken aback and confused at his reaction and can't ignore the hurt in my heart at his nonchalant greeting. Okay then.

"What?" I say softly. I don't even know what to think but he doesn't seem that excited that I'm standing in front of him, it might just be because he's tired and groggy, but that doesn't stop my stomach from feeling sick.

"You can't be here. I'll get in trouble." His voice is really raspy and he can't even keep his eyes open.

My eyebrows furrow together and feel my face heat up, "no one would know?" I counter him, why is he acting like that? If anything, he should be the one coming to where I am and saying this to me.

He licks his lips and crosses his skinny, yet muscular arms over his midriff. He flicks his gaze from me to the floor over and over again before I decide to speak first. "I need to talk to you about Jack-"

His mocking and weak laugh interrupts my sentence, "no." He cuts me off and it seems as if my words have woken him up all the way. He leans his shoulder against the door frame and I'm suddenly really uncomfortable. He's acting as if I'm just a regular person coming to his house when only a week ago he was telling how much he missed me and how hard he was going to hug me the next time he sees me. "If you're going to talk to me about your little kiss then you can just go back home." He says.