Frost Bite

Chapter 13

Josie

Jack and I don't go to sleep that night. I don't think we can, not after reliving our abandonments in our heads over and over.

Honesty will do that to you. It will force you to face everything you want to avoid. It would be so much easier to be a liar.

Instead of sleeping, we watch more movies. He picks a bunch of old movies from the projector, not because they look good, but for the experience. Casablanca and Rear Window and North by Northwest on film and an old projector.

I don't know where Ryan is, but he doesn't try to find us. And for once, I'm glad. Because Ryan wants to go home. He meant it when he said he doesn't belong here. But I also know I don't belong there.

And I wonder if that's what bothers Ryan so much about this whole situation. If it's just easier to be mad at Jack rather than me.

"Do you want to check on Ryan?" Jack asks, watching as I fiddle with the corner of the blanket he got for me.

I shake my head. "He's being petulant right now. I don't want to deal with him until he's going to be nicer. If his fingers fall off then it's his fault."

Jack cracks a smile. "I think his fingers will be fine."

"I used to understand every thought that went through his head. I used to know him inside and out. Now it's like someone took the Ryan I knew and dented him."

"This is hard for him," Jack says and it's probably the nicest thing he's ever said about Ryan. "It's not as hard for you. He doesn't know how to deal with that."

"He shouldn't have to deal with it. It shouldn't be an issue," I mutter, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it against my chest.

I try to ignore the fact that Jack's hair is very sexily mussed from a sleepless night.

"You humans are hardly rational," Jack offers, a clinical statement said wryly. And I know he isn't human, but every day it seems he's closer to it than he was before.

Jack intrigues me.

Jack is a study in loneliness. The textbook example of those left behind. I wonder what notes the universe is taking on him, on how far you can push a person before they lose all semblance of who they used to be.

I wonder who Jack used to be.

I wonder who Jack wants to be.

"You're not as inhuman as you think, Jack," I inform him dryly. "You do some awfully thoughtful things."

He cocks an eyebrow. "Like what exactly?"
 "Save me. Stay up all night with me because I don't want to sleep. Save Ryan even though you don't like him for me. Cook me food even though I know it brings up painful memories for you."

"You need to eat."

"I can cook."

Jack scoffs. "You can pour cereal. You can put bread in the toaster."

I narrow my eyes. "You doubt my culinary skills?"

"I know better than to doubt. They're awful." He says with a grin that eggs me on, that dares me to go farther, to be cleverer, to lean closer.

God, Jack is so dangerous. And not even close to the way he thinks he is.

"Well, they're about as good as your people skills," I say, and I toss the pillow at him.

Jack catches it easily, smiling his perfect teeth at me and God, I just want to know what he tastes like.

"Thank you," he says.