The Difference Between Getting and Needing

t h i r t y - t w o

i'm a bitter little pill to swallow,
i'm a little bit of let d o w n . . .

〰️〰️〰️

If it wasn't for Gus, I would say Collin was the only person in this world that knew me better than I knew myself. Before I could even begin to assimilate any situation, he already had a list of bullet points in his mind breaking down who, what, where, when, and why. He could form a thesis and predict the outcome without any specifics. He was fucking brilliant, and he didn't get nearly enough credit for it.

It was a quarter to two in the morning by the time we got back home. I was wide awake. Between the brutal six-hour time change and sleeping on both of our flights, I was screwed. I knew I'd be suffering from jet lag for a week, but that was Future Bayla's problem.

Nobody spoke in the car once Jax picked us up from the airport. Following our initial greeting and my shrieks of joy when I saw Ziggy, the three of us had never been so quiet. I was too busy cuddling my dog in the back, Collin reclined his seat and shut his eyes the moment he got in shotgun, and Jax was as fidgety as ever. More than his normal self.

When we turned onto Grape Street and their townhouse with the distinguishable crimson red door came into view, my gut caved in. It had been my home for the last month and a half, a place I sought refuge in when I thought I couldn't go anywhere else after my relationship burst into flames. Now I just felt like an outsider.

Jax eased right into their driveway if you could even call it that. More like an alleyway, the space was hardly big enough to fit Collin's car – a vintage, steel blue Nissan from the eighties equipped with pop-up headlights and cigarette burns in the leather seats from the previous owner. It was dirt cheap when he bought it before he dropped out of college, but it still ran like a champ. Not that we really had a choice in transportation since he was the only one out of the three of us with a car.

The smell of Korean fried chicken tainted the thick, polluted city air, welcoming us back with open arms. Still with no words spoken, we got our luggage out from the trunk and trudged up the steps. Jax pushed open the squeaky door and held it aside for us, then we dropped our bags by the staircase and collapsed on the couch in the living room.

I thought we all would have gone straight to bed considering how late it was. I was wrong. I also thought the density of the air would evaporate once we were inside. I was wrong again.

Our living room had never felt so claustrophobic. Tension weaved its way around us as we kept our distance from one another on the couch. Ziggy took up the space between Jax and me, his head nuzzled in my lap while he dozed off. Collin seemed pretty unbothered as well from where he was sprawled out on the chaise section of the couch with one of his hands draped over his eyes, in pure diva form.

Meanwhile, Jax was upright with perfect posture as if he had a metal rod for a spine. His hands were folded on his lap, then unfolded, then in his hair. They ran against his thighs and scratched the back of his neck. He couldn't be still.

I hadn't seen him try so hard to withhold a tic in a long time. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he would cave. For the most part, he could resist and control the urge, but sometimes he just couldn't help himself. This was one of those times.

He launched into the conversation with a cackle of disapproval, which was a little out of character for him, but I guess he was keeping it in for so long that it was the only way his body chose to react.

"Fuck, I can't take this anymore. Why is nobody talking? Was the trip that much of a bummer? What–damnit–what's going on with you guys?" Jax was spewing out his words like a fire hydrant, so fast that I had to take a moment to process what he said.