Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

The next day, Jackson was gone once again. I don’t know if I could continue with this. I haven’t been this bored in my entire life. I didn’t like being alone for hours with nothing to do in a house I hardly know. And no one to even call. I still haven’t spoken to Riley. I don’t even know if she wants to talk to me. Checking my phone was the last thing on my mind lately.

Some part of me was thankful that he wasn’t here. That part of me seemed dominant over the other half. Last night wasn’t very fun, to say the least. I wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that he snuck in while I was asleep. And the fact that I kissed him. That just struck me as downright vile. I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t have a point to stand up for. How dare he assume I was attracted to him just because of that. I guess he could have gotten that impression, though.

I still don’t love him. Or like him even for that matter.

All I had was a T.V. and laptop. Oh, and Dean. But neither of those things held my attention for more than ten minutes. I didn’t want to clean, either. The only thing that kept my brain occupied was how on Earth could he go out there,sit for hours on end, and not get bored. Or why he couldn’t at least tell me at first. If that was really where he was going. Maybe he was just going out to the bar.

I tried calling him. It sounded like a solid plan until I heard his cell phone ring in the kitchen. I went over and picked it up. “Hello, you’ve reached Jackson and I’m way too cool of a dude to carry my god damn phone around when I disappear for hours on end.” I hung up on myself and slammed his phone down. All of this alone time must have been driving my mind insane.

It almost became tiring to be this bored. I could feel myself dozing off just sitting on the couch while I thought of things to do. I even debated on whether or not I should just sleep. Before I made the final decision to sleep, I got a brilliant idea to keep me awake. I went into the kitchen and grabbed his favorite bottle of Jameson whiskey.

“Marissa, I’m back,” Jackson said, walking in from the back door again. I heard the screen door shut close. I saw him pass the kitchen with Annabelle under his arm tightly. It took him a few more minutes before he came back downstairs.

I took another swig from a glass as he walked into the room, broadly smiling at him, chin held high. I was seated on the counter top, legs crossed Indian-style. He gave me a peculiar look and rushed over. “Want a glass?” I asked as I held up the bottle over my head. Jackson took it from my hand and examined it.

He shook it around. A few drops at the bottom swished around. “It’s empty. This was practically a new bottle.” His voice didn’t seem angry that I drank his alcohol. It just seemed worried, concerned, and a little annoyed.

I howled in laughter. “I know.”

“You drank all of this?” He asked, shocked.

“And a beer or two,” I hiccupped, then began to sing, “Beer before liquor, never sicker. Liquor before beer, you’re in the clear.” I hopped off the counter, throwing off my balance. I began to fall over immediately, but Jackson caught me in his arms. He sighed and started to set me back up right. “I bet you can tell which route I took.”

I swatted his arm off of me. Even in a drunken state I didn’t want his hands on me. He took another deep breath. I think he was getting tired of me throwing fits all the time. Maybe if I was lucky enough this wouldn’t work out for the both of us and I would be on my merry way back home. Well, not home. Maybe I could get an apartment or something. Even living with Riley sounded like a better idea than staying with Jackson.

“You need to sleep,” he suggested. His arm slung around me again. I didn’t fight it this time because I knew in the back of my mind that I would just fall over again. With the tone of voice Jackson was using with me, I doubt he would catch me again. He led me across the room and to the living room. From there we made our way up the steps.

I slipped around as he guided me up the stairs. I fell once we were almost at the top. Jackson caught me, but we both slid down a few steps because of my dead weight. My arms burned from the slight rug burn, but I couldn’t help but to laugh again. Jackson kept a straight face, lips pursed, and pulled me back along as I crawled on up the few steps left and in the hallway.

“Get in bed,” he ordered as we got into my room. He started to peel back the sheets and blanket for me. I shook my head as I stood up using the door handle as leverage.

He tried to grab on my hand, but I moved it away quick enough. He let out a heaving breath of annoyance and grabbed onto both of my wrists while I was too busy laughing victoriously. My laughing ended abruptly as I tried to squirm away. His grip was ironclad and I began to lose feeling in my fingertips.

“I am not in pajamas. I’m in jeans. I can’t sleep in jeans, silly.” Ignoring me, Jackson walked over to my dresser and searched each drawer. I hissed, “Don’t look through those.”

He turned around with comfy shorts and an oversized T-shirt in his hands. “I was just getting you some clothes,” he soothed. I took a few steps back, suddenly at ease with the fact that he was searching through my things.

When he came over I tried to seize the clothing from his hands. He pulled them away before I could grab them. I frowned. He handed over the shirt and I tried to put it on. My head went in all directions trying to find a hole. It ended up going through one of the sleeves. Jackson made a short laughing noise and reached over to pull the shirt off of me. As he held it in my hand, he fixed my crazy mess of hair.

“You have to take your other shirt off first for starters.”

“I’m not taking my shirt off. Why do you think I would do that? I’m not some kind of hooker. I won’t take my shirt off for anyone. Not even...um... yeah, no one. No one will see me naked. Ever.” I rambled on in some sort of attempt at scolding him.

Jackson shook his head and looked up at the ceiling, holding his breath. He leaned in closer to me and took the bottom of my shirt in his fists. “Arms up,” he said as if he was talking to a toddler. I followed his orders unwillingly and held my arms up, making a face of annoyance. He tugged the shirt up and over my head, tossing it aside for now.

As he got the other shirt ready and shook it out, I covered my body by crossing my arms over my chest. Even though I was in a bra, I still felt uncomfortable. I watched every subtle movement his eyes made to make sure he wasn’t getting the wrong idea.

“Again.”I held my arms up more hesitantly this times and closer together, still in attempt to cover myself. He slid the new shirt on over my head. I wiggled around in it until it was on correctly. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?” I didn’t bother to respond.

“Pants,” he commanded. I tried to take them off. I pulled, yanked, and tugged, but they wouldn’t come off. I looked back up at Jackson with a worried expression. His face had a smile on it and he chuckled. “You have to unbutton and unzip them first.”

“Oh,” I mouthed and attempted to. The button wouldn’t come undone.

Jackson knelt. “Do you mind?” I bit my lip. I was hesitant, but he undid it anyway and unzipped my pants. I slid them off, though, shying away from him.

He held out the striped boxer shorts in front of me. The leg holes were wide open. I lifted my right leg first and tried to put it in. I missed and then toppled over on top of Jackson’s shoulder. He caught me before we both fell back. I got up quickly, knowing that I was barely clothed. He smiled and took my hands and placed them on his shoulders for balance. He used one of his hands to guide my feet in. I could tell he was resisting the urge to laugh at my helplessness.

“There,” he finally said, standing up after the deed was done. “Ready for bed now?”

I nodded my head in agreement. He took me by the elbow and laid me back in bed. Then took the blankets up and over my shoulders. “Sleep well,” he murmured softly in my ear. I ignored him once again and wallowed around in the thick blankets.

Jackson walked over to the window and closed the curtains.“You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow. You’re not going to want any light,” he snickered to himself as if he enjoyed the thought.

“I will not be. I will be peachy-keen and in tip-top shape,” I announced stubbornly and sat up straight in the bed.

Jackson walked back over to the bed and gingerly tapped my shoulders down so I would lay back. He looked as if he was going to say something along the lines of an ‘if you’re lucky,’ but instead he laughed again. “I can already tell now that you’re not going to be feeling so hot. Your eyes can barely stand to be open and you have the goofiest grin on your face for no reason.”

“Do not!” Then started to hold back some laughter. “You... you just have a stick up your butt!” Then I began to cackle again.

“You just need to rest.”

“Fine, fine,” I said as I laid back down.

“Good night. See you sometime tomorrow,” he said as he started to leave.

“Are you going to leave tomorrow again?”

“I don’t know.” He avoided the answer. I hated it when he did that. It irked me unbelievably. Once again, he was just like my mom, always avoiding conflict unless it was necessary. Even she couldn’t give me straight answer.

“Why do you leave so much?”

“It’s an escape.”

“I can’t escape!” I exclaimed and sat back up. Jackson started to walk back over to lay me back, but I shoved him away roughly in a drunken rage. He didn’t budge, as always, but he kept his distance. “That’s not fair, damn it! I can’t leave. I can’t just escape this world. Why can you?”

He sat on the bed. “Simmer down now. It’s not like that.”

“Oh, then enlighten me and tell me what it’s like.” I rolled my eyes. Jackson chuckled a bit. “What?”

“Don’t use words like ‘enlighten’ while you’re drunk. They just come out funny.” He began to laugh again.

“I despise you. Even when I’m drunk,” I loathed. His arm went around my shoulder. I turned my face away, not even wanting to see him.

“Just sleep on it.” I grumbled and didn’t move. “Sleep,” he commanded harsher and used his arm to hold me down. “Now.”

“Whatever,” I pulled the covers over my head. I felt him get up from the bed and listened as his footsteps made their way to the door. It creaked open.

“Night.”