Jemi Short Stories ❤

You don't do it for me anymore 2

I buckle the seat belt around my waist, relieved to feel the hot air gradually warm up my numb body. I'm craving for some hot chocolate, but I don't wanna tell him...Joe. I don't have money on me anyway, and I doubt he'd want to pay for me.

"So how are you welcoming the New Year?" He asks, probably trying to make conversation. 

"I hate January," I grumpily respond, looking out of the window as he tries to start the car's engine. "And I hate New Year. Actually, I just hate holidays." I sit back on my seat, in a bad mood, while he quickly glances at me.

"Wow, how can you hate the best time of the year? I love celebrating, except maybe the family parties where I only remember being judged by my parents. It's always the same routine that plays over and over again: Do you have a girlfriend? You're getting so old; why don't you have a girlfriend? Maybe you should take some time off and search for a girlfriend? Do you know you'll die lonely if you don't have a girlfriend?" He mimics his parents, obviously sick and tired of their nosy questions.

I repress a laugh, and jokingly shake my head. "Why don't you just get a girlfriend, then? You're rich, you're decent-looking, you have an amazing job and an amazing future... Who wouldn't want you? Every girl with a brain and two eyes would be at your feet, worshipping the ground you walk on."

"Wow, it's nice to see what you think of me!" He chuckles, gazing at me through the rear view mirror. "But no, not everyone wants me. Not you, obviously."

"That's because I'm not normal," I point out, my self-esteem suddenly sinking like the Titanic. "But I'm just trying to think like a normal woman with a good job and decent life."

He frowns a little, his hands on the steering wheel. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Demi. You're just good different." I stare at him with disbelief, but he doesn't even acknowledge it. "I'm not kidding, I swear. You think your life is fucked-up, but I'm sure there's something we can do to make it better."

"We?" I scoff, almost choking with my own saliva. "We? You don't know me, Dr Jonas, so don't treat me like a new patient you want to 'save'."

"I'm not," he argues, stopping the car at a red light. He turns towards me and looks me in the eyes. "You act like you don't give a shit of what happens around you, but it's the exact opposite. If you stop drowning yourself into your own misery and stop taking drugs just to forget reality for a few moments, it'll already be a huge step."

"How about you stop telling me how my life should be?!" I snap, staring at him with anger and disapproval. "The last thing I need right now is another person who judges me for my cover. Stop the car, I wanna get out." I try to open the door, but it's unfortunately locked. 

He brusquely halts, the wheels making a stinging sound. "Are you fucking crazy?!" He yells, furiously scowling at me. "Demi! You could got both of us killed if I didn't lock the door! Do you even understand?! Stop being stupid and grow the fuck up!"

Breathless, I stare at him with question marks in my eyes. I've always been reckless with everything I'm doing; it's just the way I am. But now, he was making me regret it with his harsh words. Did he just scream at me?

"Sorry," his eyes turn softer, and he let out a long breath. "It just gave me a heart attack. But I'm being serious here, Demi, you do not do that ever again. Do you hear me? It's dangerous."

"Quit lecturing me!" I plead, avoiding his look since I'm blushing with embarassment. "I'm not a child; of course I know the consequences of my actions. Whatsoever, I just wanna get out of the car and die alone, on the streets, frozen like I deserve to be."

I try to open the door again, but Joe grabs my shoulder and forcefully put me back down on my seat. He moves a little bit closer to me, and cups my face.