CASUAL AFFAIR; brendon urie

Chapter Sixteen

I didn't even know where Jessa had gotten the pack of cards from.

But there she was, arranging them in a particular, careful manner, so concentrated in her task that her tongue poked out the side of her mouth, and her eyes were nearly crossed. It was funny, really, and I would have laughed at her, but for one, doing so would probably topple me off the chair I was so tenuously perched on, by my tiptoes, and for another, she would go all Hulk SMASH on me. She already had enough reckless abandon as it was. And it would ruin the sense of peace that had fallen over for the past half hour. Whatever you do, do not take a toy off a toddler, or poke a sleeping bear. And clearly, Jessa was both combined.

Tommy looked up from the magazine article he'd become engrossed in, something he'd been staring at with fierce concentration for the past ten minutes, a line between his brows, sucking his lower lip in a thoughtful way, before he looked over at me, opening his mouth to speak. I however, wildly shook my head, mouthing 'God no! Don't! Do not, Tommy!' He looked confused, the crease between his brows deepening, until I pointed frantically at Jessa, then mimed speech, and then drew my finger across my neck. Understanding flooded his face, as he looked at her, the odd silent state she was in, then back at me, nodding and giving me the ok sign. 'Later.' He mouthed, and I nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

In the end, it was my cell phone that pissed away all that beautiful silence. Jessa's hand jerked with the card she was carefully placing - on the top, even more bitter tasting - and the whole tower wobbled - there was that one, fleeting moment where there was that hope it would just stop, and right itself, as ridiculous as ... oh, catching mini water tornados - but just like that, it didn't happen, and the tower burst, scattering cards everywhere. Tommy, who'd gone back to his magazine, jumped with fright, whacking his head off the shelf of comics above his head, so that a few fell out, onto his lap - his crotch, more painfully and specifically.

And me? The little tray of tacks I had been holding, using them to pin up the newest Batman: The Dark Knight Rises promotional poster, tumbled with little tink, tink, tinks to the ground, and I sucked in a sharp breath, heart stilling, stool wobbling, toes losing grip.

Jessa's hands clamped on either side of the stool, keeping it steady.

"Dude," Jessa said, and her voice had an edge that told me she wasn't faking the scare. She'd genuinely been worried for me. And she'd saved me, at least from another damned bruise, or a broken bone(s). "I just saved your life."

I took the hand she offered out, hopping down, shaking my head as I bent to retrieve the fallen tacks. "You wish." Just as I reached for another, Jessa's hand swiped out and took it. I looked up to see her crouched beside me, grinning dangerously. "Bet I can pick them up faster." She challenged.

I rolled my eyes. "Jessa, I'm not competing with you to pick up some tacks."

'No' apparently wasn't a word in Jessa's vocabulary - wait, didn't I already know that? - as she scrabbled to pick them all up before I could. I was surprised that it wasn't her that managed to nick herself on them, or catch herself. But then again, when someone smacks your hand down on one, you're likely to get gored.

"Fuck!" I yelped, jerking my hand back. Along with said tack now, too. I held it out to inspect the damage, my hand involuntarily shaking as I saw bright red blood well around the edges of the little golden head, one drip running down my finger. "Fuck," I said again, when I saw just how deep it was.

"Give it here." Jessa said, trying to grab my hand. I jerked it away - sending little shoots of pain throughout that entire hand. "Whoa, no, no, no." I said, clutching my hand with my other one. "I think your damage has been done enough, Jessa, don't you?"