I snorted at the stray thought. He was partially to blame for all the crazy shit in my head, the things I couldn’t make sense of. He should take on some of the burden.
Even as I berated myself for the stupid idea, I wondered if it would work. If, by some miracle, he stopped fighting me, or I him, would he listen as I ranted over the pressures in life, over the confusion he made me feel? Or would he laugh?
If I told Jack how in the brief moments when we were at each other’s throats about one stupid thing or another, it gave me an odd peace from my parents, from their fighting, from worries over Cara and leaving her alone when I went to college, fuck, about college too, just everything, would he laugh or listen? Would Jack give me an outlet for all this darkness building inside me?
Thursday 6:59 AM
JackASS
I’ve been playing soccer since I was four.
So?
JackASS
We’re supposed to tell each other something about ourselves, moron.
On Monday and Wednesday, overachiever.
JackASS
Whatever. I’m tired of you making up shit about me. Now you’ll have plenty to tell Trent.
You always do what your told, Princess?
JackASS
If either of us is a princess, it’s you.
How do you figure?
JackASS
I don’t wear pads for my sport, Princess.
Today I learned you know nothing about football. There’s your something new.
JackASS’s contact changed to Princess.
Princess
Doesn’t count. That’s about me.
…
Princess
You’re a stubborn princess, huh?
There. You learned something new about me.
Princess
…
You’re welcome, Princess.
When the few lines of text ended, my smirk faded, the energy sizzling in my veins receded, and everything returned to the muted sludge that covered my outlook on life. I didn’t remember getting ready for school or driving there. Muscle memory had taken over, so I could zombie out.
