Do you ever get that feeling when you know that something is wrong with you and someone and you know that he knows that you know it too but he just won’t say anything and you don’t know why so you just want to punch him in his stupid face just to get it over with? Yeah, pretty much sums it up with Jason. See, I’ve known this guy for years but at times he still hasn’t given me enough valid reasons to keep calm and not slap the bitch he is. But as a very generous and kind and incredibly amazing, understanding, and nice person, I let him muck in his own muck while we walked towards my house. It’s become a kind of tradition, I guess. Jason always ends up taking me home (his house is a few minute away from mine) and we just got stuck with it without any of us complaining about it.
“Are you going to tell me stuff before or after I slap you?” I asked.
A shy smile passed his lips. “It’s—“
“Dean. I know.” He looked questioningly at me. “It’s written all over your face.” He raised an eyebrow. “Alright, I asked Austin, but seriously what happened this time?”
When Jason sighs, you can’t help but feel sad for him. Well, what with the pouty face and stupid puppy green eyes. I guess that’s the thing about people whom you constantly see smiling, their gloomy side is contagious. “He over-heard your conversation with Rhea”
“What about it?” I said, knitting my eyebrows.
“The part about ice creams and me,” he scowled. “‘you’re going out with that dipshit—‘”
“HE CALLED ME A DIPSHIT?! THAT LITTLE TWAT—”
“No, he meant me.”
“Oh. Go on.”
“Why are you not bothered when he called me a dipshit?” Jason protested.
“Lies don’t bother the innocent.” I smiled sweetly.
Jason paused, maybe considering if that was a compliment or an insult. When he decided it was a compliment he continued, “Anyway, he just kept saying stuff on and on about me being a bad influence, she should never talk to me again, I was a pervert, I’m a good for nothing—”
“Wait, he said all of this on front of you?”
“Where did you expect I got the bruise?” he cocked his face so that I was looking at a round purplish bruise sitting on his lower jaw.
“Well, you were sulking all the while, how did you expect me to notice—oh my god.” I gasped as I realized something. “You fucking punched him!”
“Duh?”
“Holy shit, I would’ve given anything to see that. Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Knock him out!”
“In front of his girl?” Jason made a face like, are you serious? “Just because you did something like that to Michael Jones doesn’t mean I—“
“Don’t!” I said. “Just don’t. It gives me shivers just thinking about it.”
“What happened there anyway?” Jason asked as we arrived at the front porch and sat down the stairs. “What happened to you?”
Jason has this tendency to make me feel embarrassed, like I’m a kid who came home drenched in rain and mud, expecting to get yelled on but instead got a nice hot bath ready for me. It makes me feel uncomfortable. I leaned against the pillar. “You know perfectly well what happened.”
“No, I arrived seconds late. And I’ve heard rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“They say you two were making out when you suddenly went Manny Pacquiao mode.” Jason’s smile told a lot of things and it told me this: he didn’t believe it. Which was a relief because he literally is the only guy I know who knows me better than myself. Kinda creepy but there you go.
“Pfft. Jesus, I’ve had more than enough of them with the Riggs thingy and now they want to make me look like Jones’ bitch.”
“You’re not anyone’s bitch.” Jason said firmly in an almost angry tone. “Can you stop using that word? You’re not anyone’s anyone, okay?”
I looked at him but he didn’t return the gaze. “Okay. I’m sorry?” i nudged him with my foot, just enough to make him face me... okay, maybe i did kicked him. "I'm apologizing okay? even though i'm not sure what i'm apologizing for."
He smiled at me, this time he did looked at me and i can't help remembering when we first walked home together. It was a small smile—just on one corner—the kind of smile that he shows only when we’re alone. “I shouldn’t have dated Jane if it meant I'd be dating the badass instead.”
“Yep, you really shouldn’t have,” I said. Jason likes bringing up the “I should have dated you instead of” joke every time he has a break up. And Jason has had a lot of break ups.
He made a comical look and shook his head. “The problem with you is that you never take me seriously.”
I snorted as a reply and slid down beside him feeling a whole lot better. It was a long time before Jason stood up and went to go and the sky had already turned orange with flecks of violet and blue and yellow. The nice thing about Jason is he’s perfectly comfortable with awkward silences. Well, in this case i guess nothing's entirely awkward when you actually feel comfortable, right?
Let's just say we're the kind of people who appreciates silence when there's somebody to share it with. Sometimes, just being with someone, knowing that they're with you is enough... just enough... Let the deafening silence draw out the words between the two of you, like a secret told with a secret smile and twinkling eyes.
We don’t say good bye. We never say goodbye. He just nodded at me and I nodded back and watched him walk away. He turned around and waved at me before disappearing at a corner.
I stared at that corner for a long time, watching the trees sway at the breeze and thinking, I used to take you seriously. A leaf fell on my lap as i laid on my back and closed my eyes. As a familiar feeling washed over me, overwhelming me with uninvited memories. Until you proved that I never should have.
