Triggered: Did Better (BOOK II)

.33'

"No more resistance, no more static, and no more negatives."

James' Residence

Westfield, WI

July 9th; 8:49 p.m.

*Jordan POV*

♭I just wanna, show you how much I appreciate you (Yes)♭

♭Wanna show you how much I'm dedicated to you, (Yes)♭

Humming along quietly to the music being blasted through the house; per Ivory's request, I walked slowly behind Christopher. I was trying to savor my high as he looked around the halls, searching for a particular room downstairs that we could use to talk. For some reason, he was oddly peculiar about which room he wanted to have a conversation in, mumbling something along the lines of "I know it's around here somewhere" as he waltzed in and out of the rooms looking around like a lost puppy.

All this looking around was becoming pointless to me at this point, I honestly just wanted to sit down somewhere. I couldn't even keep track of how many solo cups I had lined up on that counter before we walked back here, and every second I went in a circle around these bright lights the more I wished this conversation had begun. Between the weed, liquor, and these bright lights I was ready to be sitting back down immediately. It's not like we were about to have sex or something; we were just trying to talk, so any room would suffice. Unless he wanted to do more than talk, it's not like I would mind, but I mean the least he could do is wait until everyone else was asleep. Well actually I take that back, I don't need him thinking just because we slept in bed together for the first time since all the drama between us started didn't mean I would just allow him to get in my pants. I'm just not that kind of girl.

Actually, what in the hell am I even talking about, what "kind of girl" am I even talking about, nobody would stay in a bed with a guy they didn't want to be around (by choice) if they weren't interested in them.

I shrugged my shoulders lightly, laughing a little bit at myself for having an entire mini-conversation inside my head but deciding to respond to each comment physically or out loud. It always amused me how aware I was of the things and habits I still held onto from my disorder, no matter how much I thought I'd grown out of them. I just learned not to let my disorder define me, even with the things I can't manage to shake off I've just learned to embrace them more. There was something so interesting about the way my mind processed things. Sometimes I become so immersed in my daydreams that I'm not even cognizant of what I'm doing in the real world. This, now that I'm thinking about it, could be how Christopher noticed my disorder in the first place, especially with him having one of his own. After all this time he still never really told me how he figured it out when we were at the lake house.

But despite not being aware of reality when I've emerged into one of my many daydreams one thing, I am aware of is that I was growing irritated by walking from each side of this big ass house just to have a conversation that I'm sure would've been finished by now.

I sighed quietly to myself pondering. If only we just settled for the first room, we passed.

"Umm, Chris. How about we just go upstairs to your room and talk?" I suggested before grabbing his hand and leading him to the staircase.

I wasn't about to spend all night trying to have one small conversation with Christopher. There were honestly so many things I wanted to discuss with him myself, his well-being sitting at the very top of the list, but I needed more time to figure the other things out, so hopefully whatever it was that he wanted to talk about could give me some closure. I just hope the conversation isn't something that'll push me further back than further ahead. We had already gone the whole day avoiding each other like we had the bubonic plague, and now he wanted to play musical chairs with the bedrooms in this residence.