Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

Even though Robert had apologized, I still didn’t want to be around him. Plus I could tell that Jackson made him apologize and he didn’t mean it probably because he couldn’t remember it. It’s not that I was dreadfully bitter towards him. I just prefered to make sure he couldn’t get me in my slumber. The horrific dream that he was took a part in didn’t help either. But it was only just a dream. Nevertheless, it still gave me the shudders.

I stayed up in my room. When I was bored, I would wander into Jackson’s for some entertainment. It didn’t help much. Dean followed me around dependently and was my companion for the evening. He would mew for my attention and purr when he rubbed up against my legs. I’d sometimes carry him around when I left a room so he wouldn’t lose me.

Eventually, I came down the stairs to watch some T.V. Thankfully, both of them were outside on the porch. I wouldn’t have to face Rob in some sort of conversation just yet. I peeked out the window.

Their backs were turned from the screen door, so I took my time to look to make sure there was no chance of them coming in soon. They had beers in their hands and were laughing at something. Hopefully Jackson would keep Rob occupied for some time. It had been working well enough so far.

The idea of both of them getting wasted scared me, like the idea of Robert coming in my room. I knew Jackson wasn’t like that, but you never know once you add a lot of alcohol into the mix. A shiver ran down my spine and I shook. That dream still felt real to me. But I knew Jackson wouldn’t. Hopefully.

Then it clicked. Jackson said he wouldn’t have Rob drink. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t care too much. As long as he wasn’t spending the night and was sober-ish enough to just drive home. And as long as Jackson kept Rob away from me, anything was fine with me. Even if it involved getting him a little tipsy.

I laid down on the couch and clicked on the television. I flipped through channels until I found something decent to watch. It was some mindless reality show. I know their idiotic, but they’ve always been a ‘guilty pleasure,’ so to speak. Anything with ignorant people running around and competing for love or money or both could entertain me for hours.

After some time had passed and I was still watching my show, I heard the screen door open. I peered up over the couch to see Jackson and Rob walking in. Jackson looked over to me and said, “I’m going to drive Robert home, alright?”

“Okay,” I said, I crossed my arms over the back of the couch and leaned over. Great, Rob couldn’t even drive himself home.

I looked Jackson up and down. He seemed capable to drive Rob home. He can hold his alcohol extremely well. He did drink a lot, so it made sense. He never was drunk. He’d probably have to chug down multiple shots to achieve that. Sometimes I felt like alcohol tolerance is a talent in some individuals. A talent that I didn’t possess.

“Don’t leave or something,” Jackson said jokingly as he passed me to get the keys from the coffee table.

“No promises,” I nonchalantly replied, not moving my eyes from the screen.

Jackson stared at me for a moment, then watched the T.V. He seemed like he was trying to find out what was so amusing about the show. I guess he didn’t find completely plastic reality star girls fighting with bleeps between every word entertaining. I thought it was, at least. But maybe I was just strange.

When his attention was back on me, he suggested, “You should read a book instead of watching things like this.”

I sat up. Jokingly, I defended my show. “This is my book! I can even learn a moral from this.” I pointed at the screen when one of the blondes was talking in the confession room. “See? It shows me that plastic surgery is wrong and I can end up looking like a freaky fish.” I pouted out my lips to make them bigger and shaped like the girl’s on T.V. Since my face was contorted, my words came out in a different voice. “Would you be attracted to me if I looked like this?”

He laughed. “I guess it’s a good lesson if your lips would turn out like that. And especially if you would sound like that.”

I slapped his arm playfully. “Nice to know that looks matter for you.”

“They don’t,” he denied immediately. He looked back at the T.V. and made a weird face at the same blonde. “It’s just that natural is better.”

I giggled and said, “Go take Robert home.”

He left to Rob from the kitchen and they both walked through the family room to get to the door. Robert didn’t seem too wasted. Just slightly tipsy. I didn’t know how many beers he had. Had to of been a lot because he drank a lot, too.

I heard the door close behind both of them. I sighed and turned back to my show. It was almost nine so it would be over soon. It was going to be a little bit until Jackson got home. Maybe I should just read a book.

After my show had ended, I went up in Jackson’s room and rifled through his shelf of books. Some were really thick, and some were thin. I wasn’t planning on picking one to read and finish. I just wanted something to do. And see what kind of stories he was into. Just to know a little more about him.

I’d pick up a book, read the first few pages, skip into the middle of the book, see what was going on for a few pages, then close it. I did this for a while, actually. Some of the books sounded like stories I wanted to read. I’d get around to it someday. Just not today.

At least a dozen books later, I heard Jackson open the door to his bedroom. I was leaned up against the wall beside his bookshelf. I peered up from the book and looked at him. It had to be extremely late. It seemed like he was gone forever.

“I see you’ve taken my advice,” Jackson said smugly. He took a few steps in and sat beside me.

I closed the book. “A little. My show ended so I needed something to preoccupy me while you were away.”

He moved his hand to move the book so he could read the cover. It it was Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vonnegut Jr. “That’s one of my favorites,” he pointed out.

“Ah,” I said with a little nod.

“It’s a satirical book. About a journey through time and the World War II experiences of a soldier. It’s a very good book.”

By this point, I was pretty confused as to what he was saying. Even though he didn’t say very much. I just subtly bit down on my bottom lip and handed him the book. He smiled and put it back for me.

Like a force of habit, I crawled out to the middle of the floor and grabbed his big, white, fluffy blanket and rolled into a cocoon in it.

“You know,” he started to say. “You don’t always have to lay on the floor. I do happen to have a bed.” He was on all fours as he came closer to me.

I popped my head up. “I know. It’s just the usual for me.”

He laid beside my and turned his head to face mine. “You must like that blanket.”

“I love it.” He chuckled and, for a brief second, had his crooked smile on his lips. I grinned at the sight of it. “You know,” I said coolly, trying to not seem blunt about my love for that smile. “you should smile like that more often.”

He did it again by accident and glanced away from me for a second. He almost seemed embarrassed. Which is odd for him.

“Like that,” I beamed.

After a second of just pointlessly looking at each other, he yawned out. “I’m tired. I’m hitting the hay.”

He started to push himself off the ground and walk towards the bed. I watched him as he kept going. Then pulled back the covers and took off his shirt and pants so he was just in a pair of boxers.

Once he was snuggled into the sheets, he looked up, his arms were behind his head. “You going to join me, or are you just going to sleep there?”

I debated this for a second. It was especially comfortable being on the ground, with the blanket at all. But I knew there would be back pain tomorrow. So I thought about getting up and going into my room. And I know I’m going to sound lazy for saying this, but I didn’t feel like walking that far. I kept an internal debate floating around in my mind for some seconds before Jackson interrupted.

“Just get up here,” he chuckled, patting the side of the bed.

I scrunched my legs up and tried to get up off the ground while remaining in my cocoon. It didn’t work and I fell on my face. Jackson hollered in laughter and didn’t move to help me. I pulled out my arms and pushed myself up. Then hopped over and landed face down, again, but this time onto the bed.

Jackson grabbed my arms and pulled my up closer so my head reached the pillows. I chuckled in a panting tone. I was tired. And it took a lot of strength to remain in my blanket and get up and across the room.

I got out of the comfy, white blanket and got under the big comforter. Then threw the white blanket over it. His room was oddly cold tonight in his room. But two blankets, plus the sheets, was the perfect cure.

We turned our faces towards each other again and his arm slipped down my side. I couldn’t really feel it since it was on the outside of the blankets. It went to the back of my body and tugged me around and pulled me closer. Our bodies almost touched. His hand went up to my face and caressed it gently. He seemed quiet, but I could sense some anxiousness from him.

“I think I love you,” he whispered softly.

I felt my eyes widen, even though I didn’t want to seem shocked by what he had said. I gawked at him and closed my eyes tightly, then opened them. It was real. He was still looking back at me.

“H-Huh?” I stammered, still taking it in.

“I love you,” he repeated again, still seeming content with what he had admitted. He rolled over so he was completely on top of me. His legs straddled my hips. And his fingers smoothed out my hair, then trailed back down my jawline. I didn’t even return the words yet. But he seemed content with stroking my face.

I gulped. “You better not be messing around with this,” I threatened in a quiet voice.

“I wouldn’t joke about that,” he said seriously.

I still haven’t returned the words. I didn’t know if I could make out those words with my lips. I didn’t know if I even could mean it. I sighed and felt every muscle in my body tense up. His hands wrapped around my upper shoulder and lower neck area and massaged gently. I closed my eyes at the sudden relief.

Once I opened my eyes, I felt a little better. I tried to say something back back, but I couldn’t even manage to get any words out.

He made a shushing noise and leaned back down. His breath was blowing on my collarbone. His body barely hovered above mine. “Don’t say anything.”

He moved his face higher and his lips pressed against mine. It was soft at first, then it deepened. The room kind of spun around me. I was still stunned over the words. The kiss just made it worse. Maybe I was really getting these feelings. It had to be.

When he pulled away, I breathed, “That’ll do.” I still felt slightly dizzy.

He smiled with a small snicker, then got off of me and was close at my side. His hand took mine and placed it around his body and his wrapped around mine. We both simultaneously pulled each other in closer. I nuzzled my head under his chin. The room felt a little warmer, but it was probably just his body heat mixed with the stress those three words caused me. It eased my mind to be back close to him. It gave me the strength to say back, “I love you, too.” in a non-stuttering voice.

I felt his chin move down a little more. He was smiling. His hand stroked my back and pulled me in tighter for a second, like a hug. Even though it already felt like we were in one.