Should i be scared?

Chapter Four

I toss and turn, trying to get comfortable enough so i could sleep. i was stuck in this vicious cycle of ripping the blankets off of me when i get too hot, then pulling the comforter back over me a few seconds later when i start freezing my ass of. 

i sighed loudly, resting my forearm on my forehead, staring up at the ceiling. 

why couldn't i stop thinking about that dumbass John? 

i think to myself, running my hands over my face. how come every thought i had circled right back to Schlatt? he would be so weirded out and probably disgusted if he knew i couldn't get my mind off him. I just couldn't focus on anything other than him. how he held my hand in the car, how he laughed at almost all my jokes, how he took me to a freaking air plane museum because he found out i like planes and museums. 

am i seriously crushing on him? well, i mean, i already was. but, do i have something bigger than a celebrity crush on him? i can't. he's my brothers best friend. we live in different states. he didn't even know i existed until i met him on this trip. i'm being too freaking delusional. i'm getting my hopes up yet again! this will end up how it always does. i fall in love, confess, then get my heartbroken, hell, John might have a freaking girlfriend! who the hell do i think i am just assuming he's single because i like him? wait. i just said i like him. wait. I've said i have a crush on him before. what the fuck is wrong with m-

"hey kiddo, you're still up?" Jackson's voice calls out. snapping me out of my thoughts. 

"unfortunately yes." i reply after taking a deep breath, speaking on my exhale. 

"and why is your stupid ass still awake?" he jokes, moving my legs so he could sit down. 

"your stupid best friend is giving me mixed signals." i say, running my hands through my hair. "who? John? how so?" he asks, pulling the blanket off me and draping it over his legs. what a little shit. 

"he went out of his way to take me to that museum-" "oh, yeah. how was it by the way?" "super cool. it had a shit ton of planes. they were in super good condition and the owner even let me touch one." "dope. okay, sorry. what did John do?" Jackson asks, smiling a bit at how easily we both could get distracted. 

"he went out of his way to take me to that museum, and held my hand the whole way there." i say, leaning back against the lumpy couch. 

"he held your hand?" Jackson exclaims, a wide smile on his face. "yeah." i shrug. how come i acted like it wasn't a big deal while i was talking to Jackson about it, but i was pretty much dying inside while it was actually happening? weird. 

"OH MY FUCKING GOD." Jackson shouts, covering his mouth with both hands in complete shock. "what?" i ask, a bit confused at his outburst. why was it so surprising that a guy held my hand? god, i love how i say that when i'm the one overthinking it too the point where i can't sleep. hello pot, meet the shinny motherfucking kettle. 

"was it, like, a kindergarten type hand hold? or an adult hand hold? OH MY GOD. DID YOU GUYS INTERTWINE FINGERS LIKE THEY DO IN ALL THOSE HALLMARK CHRISTMAS MOVIES?" Jackson squeals. this bitch is sounding like a typical, copy paste prissy teenage girl. i wonder where his Stanley is. just kidding, we all know he's more of a custom hydroflask guy. 

"calm down, dumbass. and yes, we did 'interlock fingers'. i texted you while it happened! do you not remember?" i reply, a bit irritated at his pertentcious squeaking. 

"THAT IS SO ROMANTIC!" he screeches, ignoring my question. "JACKSON! shut up! please!" i say, putting a hand on his arm. "please be quiet." i say in a calmer voice. 

"why are you freaking out? it's not a big dea-" "WHY AREN'T YOU FREAKING OUT? I'M FREAKING OUT BECAUSE MY BABY SISTER JUST GOT A BOYFRIEND!" "Jackson!" i say. "John is not my boyfriend! he hasn't even known i existed until a few days ago!"

"oh, well that's simply not true. i talked about you all the time. i showed him a few photos of you, and he said you were 'hot as fuck' 'ai generated' 'stock photo' or, my personal favorite, 'a screenshot i took off of a add for a proustite on facebook marketplace.'"

i blink in surprise. "what photos did you show him?" i ask, slightly offended, but mostly intrigued. 

"the one's from my graduation." "your graduation photos or actual ceremony?" "photos." "HOW THE FUCK DID I LOOK LIKE A PROUSTITE?" 

Jackson smirks that shit eating grin he always does. "shut up. be quiet." he teases in a mocking tone, making fun of my previous words to him by putting his hand on my shoulder. 

"fuck off." i laugh, shoving him away. "Jesus. fine." he laughs as well, before saying. "so, do you want me to ask John to just tell you he likes you back?" 

my eyes grow wide as i nearly slap Jackson. "what, are you an idiot?" i hiss. "absolutely not!" i say, gently kicking his shin. "you can't do that! he might have a girlfriend!-" "he doesn't." "okay- he might not like me back!" "he does. and you just admitted you like him. HA!" he mocks. he was such an asshole sometimes. 

"go fuck yourself." I say, trying my hardest to look serious while saying so. "nah. i'd rather not " he jokes, leaning back against the couch himself. 

"so, when do you want me to set you two up?" "preferably never." i groan. "i just want him to stop doing shit like that." "you want him to stop being nice?" Jackson snorts. "if holding someones hand is considered 'being nice', then sex must be giving someone a whole damn care package." I say while rolling my eyes. 

"you guys had sex?" Jackson asks, wide eyed. "what? no! you need to get fucking hearing aids, dipshit." i retort, hiding my blushing face. how was Jackson so stupid? 

"aw. okay." "WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'AW, OKAY.'? ARE YOU DISSAPOINTED THAT I DIDN'T BANG THAT WALKING STD IN THE FUSELAGE OF A FUCKING BOEING 747?" "kinda- they had boeing 747's there?" "no. but i wish they did." 

we stay silent for a moment after that conversation, just looking around the dark living room. "go back to bed." i tell Jackson after a few moments. "and don't tell John anything. you hear me? i'll rip your dick and ballsack off if you talk to him about anything revolving around romance." i threaten. although i would never actually do something that extreme, Jackson knows i might kick him in the nuts if he does what i told him not to. it has happened before, and it more than likely will happen again. 

"alright. goodnight shitstain." he says, gently slapping my shoulder. "nick shitface." i reply, laying back underneath my covers when he finally left. tomorrow would be a super fun day.