Chapter 33: Twenty Two

GOD KNOWS WHAT TIME IT IS. I'm never drinking again. Ever. The morning I'd met Jackson was the most hungover I'd been until now. My mouth is caked with saliva that reminds me of partially dried glue. My throat is raw as if I were at a death metal concert last night. My eyeballs sting with the burn of a million suns and the headache throbbing at the base of my skull is agony. When I wake, I bring my palms to my temples and squeeze, hoping the pressure will make it stop hurting, but it doesn't. I roll my body over to move but the very simple change of gravity makes the room begin to sway and I fall off the bed and scramble on my hands and knees to Xavier's bathroom. I hardly manage to flip the lid before I upchuck what looks to be mostly water mixed with a small part of my soul. It's a vile reminder of why I'm never drinking again. "Ugh." I rest my head against the shower door and wait to see if the feeling subsides. I'm an idiot. I deserve every single part of this. I have to fix things with Jackson and Xavier. I need to apologize. I consider rising to my feet and getting my cell phone but I can't see straight, so focusing on a tiny screen sounds like anguish. Instead I sit on the floor of X's bathroom with my forehead pressed to the cool glass of the shower door, wishing that having Jackson nearby was all that I needed. You need a lobotomy, Lola. "Whoa, Lola. You look like shit." Ugh. Jared's here. "Astute observation, as always, Jared." I can't look at him. I try to but the sight makes my eyes sting even more. I don't know why Xavier didn't kick the guy out a long time ago. He reminds me of the dude who spit when Madeline was affixed to me. Revolting. Disgusting. All around gross. "Need a little help?" "From you?" It sounds far bitchier than I intend, but I can't help it. I'd rather suffer on the icy tile of Xavier's floor for all of eternity than accept help from Jared. He'd probably try and cop a cheap feel or two while he was 'helping.' "You want help to stand?" I reach my hand out and tap the toilet tank. "Pass. I'm getting up close and personal with my new best friend." "You know what is a great cure for a hangover?" he asks. "Grease or gatorade," I reply. "Ideally a combination of both." "Sex," he says matter-of-factly. Guy doesn't even flinch at the excessive inappropriateness of his statement. Douche. Maximum level. I'm about to tell him off when a voice pierces the air. A voice I've never been happier to hear in all of my life. Jackson. "Good thing I'm here then, Sir Syphillis," he says. "Why don't you take a step back?" I do look up this time, able to stomach the image of Jared, as long as my favorite day of the week is next to him. Jared stands taller, his brows knitting down. "Who the hell are you?" "Her boyfriend in the present, husband in the future, all around protector in the present," Jackson says. "I've travelled through space and time to be with her, so like I said, do us both a favor and back off." "What. The. Fuck?" Jared asks. "Are you on drugs?" I hear Xavier chuckle before he says, "Go Jared. Lola is fine." "Whatever, man," Jared says, pushing his way past Jax first, then Xavier. "Jackson?" It comes out as a question. God, it is a question to confirm that he's here and this is not some hallucination. I don't deserve to have him here. "We really gotta stop meeting this way, Angel." I sit up… or at least give the effort of doing so a substantial attempt. Jackson is quick to crouch down, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, pulling me toward him before slowly standing. I can't help it. I lean against his chest. He smells like aftershave and oranges. "You're here." "'Course I'm here," he says. "It'll take a lot more than a feisty little Lola who has had too much to drink to keep me away. I'll admit, it wasn't your finest moment but we all have them. Good thing you had X." This makes me turn. Xavier is in the doorway, previously housing both Jared the douche, and Jackson. "I'm sorry," I say to both of them. Looking at X reminds me that he's seen me almost naked. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I look down at my feet. "No need to be sorry," Jackson echoes some of the first words he ever spoke to me. "He's right Mouse," Xavier says. "I told you to stop being such a bookworm. You partied like a true college asshole. Be proud, kid." I chuckle but my mouth is so dry, the change in my breathing brings on a coughing fit. The cough intensifies the pounding in my head and I groan. "I'm dying." Jackson, brushes hair off my forehead. "This time I might have to agree with you but rest assured, Lola. Xavier and I are looking out for you." "I know." "I brought you some clothes," he says. "They're in Xavier's living room. You're gonna have a shower and either X or I will wait for you because I trust Jared and his junk about as far as I can throw him. One of us will run out and get the greasiest most disgusting food available. You'll eat it, and then I'll take you back to the beach house." I bite my thumbnail. "Can you go and get the food, Jackson? I need to talk to X for a minute." Jackson kisses my forehead. "Yep. Be right back." Xavier looks at Jackson, then me before moving out of the way for Jackson to vacate the premises. Jax pauses at the door. "Take care of my girl," he tells Xavier. "Jared is… well… he's something else." Xavier nods in understanding. I hear Jackson's soft footfalls down the hallway before the sound of the front door closing. "X--" He stops me. "Have your shower, Mouse. We can talk after." A shower does sound amazing. X comes into the bathroom and leans his body across me to reach the taps. He turns each before starting the shower for me. I freeze. "God Lola. I'm not your enemy," he says sadly. My arm feels like it's fused in one spot as I bring it up and touch his shoulder. "I know." He moves quickly out of my reach. "I'll go get your clothes." "Thank you." He returns with the bag Jackson packed. "You can use my toothbrush," he says. "It's the green one." I've seen his toothbrush a million times. I know it's green. "Thanks," I say. I get into the shower and allow the water to wash away all my sins. To wash away the memory of being so stupid last night, to wash away the horrible feeling I have about Xavier seeing me like he did, to wash away the things I said to Jackson. I lather my hair twice but even so, I'm sure not to take too long. I need to fix things with Xavier. When I'm done, I find him sitting in the living room, leaning back on the couch, legs spread in the standard guy position. He has the remote in his hand but doesn't look vaguely interested in whatever is on the screen. He points the remote to the TV and shuts it off. "Feel better?" "A little," I say. "I now feel a step up from death rather than like I'm in a casket about to lowered into the ground." "Good to hear." "Xavier." "What?" "Last night," I say. I have no idea how to begin this. "I mean, I was really drunk." He smirks. "We didn't sleep together." "I know!" "Just wanted to put your mind at ease. I'd be surprised if you remembered anything at all." "I remember," I say. "I remember being undressed in front of you." "Right," X says. "I mean. I didn't mean to…" "Are you seriously worried about me seeing you in your skivvies, Lo?" I nod. "Oh my God. Really?" "I-I-I don't want you to see me any differently." Xavier's tongue slides across his lower lip. "You're still my best friend, right Mouse?" "We haven't been acting like it." "That's beside the point. You're in love. Love doesn't crazy shit to people, I get it. But you're still my best friend," he reiterates. "Yes, I am." "And as such I can tell you the truth without worrying about unfair or rash judgments?" "Yes, you can." "Fine," he says. "I hope that's the truth because the second Jackson Sunday came into your life, I looked at you differently because you are different now." I wait for him to finish. "You're alive now Lola. And I know it's fucking wrong, but I want that to be because of me." My mouth drops at the precise moment the door swings open and Jackson steps in with a paper bag and a take-out tray. "What did I miss?"