movie, how the lead actor just had his second illegitimate child with another mistress in real life. He tells me about California and how pretty it is. I get so sick of small talk. I can't look at his gorgeous lips while they tell me anything else tonight. I want them on mine.
"Do you have a girlfriend back at home?" I ask, freeing myself from the shackles of small talk.
"Nah." He examines his fingernails. "Not anymore at least."
I resist the urge to ask why. It doesn't matter why – he's single and so am I. "Girlfriends are overrated anyhow," I say. He downs the last bit of his drink and crunches on an ice cube. "So you don't have a girlfriend either, eh?"
"Oh shut up." I take a second slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table. It started with eight slices and is now down to two. "So did you come here by yourself? Why didn't you bring friends or something?"
He thinks about my question for a while before he answers. "I don’t have any friends I could spend a summer with…they would drive me insane after a week." He looks over at me but doesn't really see me. His eyes are troubled. "Plus I deserve to spend a summer alone."
"Why would anyone deserve isolation? That's harsh," I say. He shakes his head.
"I'm gonna need a drink if I'm going to tell you this story," he says, getting up and taking his glass into the kitchen. I follow him. He pours another coke and drops two shots of Jack Daniels in it. I slide my glass across the counter, next to his.
"Me too," I say. He glares at me. "You're too young to drink."
"So are you."
"So."
"One shot?"
He sighs. I win. He measures out one shot in a shot glass and then pours it into my drink. We go back to the living room, leaving the bottle of Jack on the counter. I take a few sips and when he's fully immersed in the movie, I excuse myself to go get a paper towel. Once in the kitchen, I guzzle half of my drink and fill the rest with Jack. I've never drank before, so this should be fun. I join him back on the couch, only this time I sit closer.
"So tell me the story," I say, rubbing shoulders with him. "Why do you deserve a summer of isolation?"
He laughs. "I lied. I'm not telling you."
I lift an eyebrow. "You're not like a murderer or anything…?"
"If I was, you wouldn't still be alive right now." His answer doesn't comfort me, but as I take another sip and feel the liquor warming my throat down to my stomach, I stop caring.
A few sips more and I'm rocking side to side in my skull. I'm pretty sure I'm not moving outwardly, but it's getting harder and harder to keep my body still. Jace is slouched in the couch, relaxed and all I want to do is get up and move around. I snuggle closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
Images of Ian fade into the background of my mind. "This night is exactly what I needed," I murmur between quiet parts of the film.
His hand grabs my knee and squeezes. "Me too."
Chapter 10
I wake up in my bed the next morning to the taste of vomit rushing up my throat. I trip out of bed tangled in my sheets but manage to find the bathroom before making a huge mess on the floor. It's all watery and tastes like sewer but eventually it's gone and I make my way back to bed. My head throbs with the pain of a thousand concussions. With the sun up, it looks to be about nine in the morning.
Covering my head with my comforter, I pass out again in hopes of waking up better. I don't. I wake up a few minutes later to throw up some more. It tastes even worse this time. I try washing out my mouth with water, but every gurgle and swish makes me feel sicker.
Grandma knocks on the bathroom door that is cracked open as I sit on the edge of the tub gripping the sides of my head.
"Are you sick?" she asks. I nod and groan. "Let me see if you have a fever." I let her press her hand to my forehead although I know it's pointless. I am definitely sick, but it's not a fever type of sick. She rests her hand on me for a minute then shakes her head. "No, you feel