Caged Birds Don't Like to Sing

I arose in the morning to see that I was on the edge of the bed, arm dangling off of the side and my fingers tingling with numbness. My body was tangled in the covers and I had to peel my way out, twisting and turning in every which way. The light flowing in from the windows wasn’t as painfully bright as it usually was. It must be early still.

There was a movement behind me, shifting the bed around. Jackson let out a quiet noise as he moved and I peered over my shoulder to see him. I had forgotten that he was here, that I had stayed in here. I took the moment as an opportunity to scrutinize him as he lay there unconscious. His eyes were shut lightly, fluttering every so often ever so slightly. His mouth hardly at all ajar, the only very sides of it starting to grow stubble that ran down and along his jaw line. Hair messed around, falling into his face, and his hands curled up by his face.

I started to get out of bed. The mattress made even more movement and bounced lightly as I attempted to get up. Jackson made a soft grumble noise and leaned up against the pillows. His hair was all over the place even more and he looked exhausted. I’ve never seen him when he wasn’t perky and ready to screw with me. He looked at me through sleepy eyes. “You’re still in here?” His voice was hazy, deeper and lower than usual.

In a quiet voice, I asked, “What do you mean ‘still in here?’”

“Last I checked, it was eleven o’clock. Then I fell back asleep.”

“Wow,” I breathed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “My timing was off.” I thought it was early in the morning, but I must have guessed wrong. It had to be at least noon.

Jackson grabbed his phone off the floor and tapped the screen to unlock it. “It’s past two,” he confirmed, starting to rise from the bed sheets.

“Two?” I repeated back. I really needed to stop guessing times.

“We definitely slept in,” he said, shaking his hair out and tousling it with his fingers.

I started to get back up and out of the bed, surprised I was even in there that long.

As I started to walk away, Jackson called after me. “Do you want to go get lunch or something?”

I contemplated this for a minute. I was pretty hungry, I could already feel the pain of a grumble starting to come on. I think it could work out, even if it was with him. I’ve already spent the night with him, what could another hour do? I spun around. “Sure.” I said with fake smile. “I’ll go get ready.”

“Sounds good.”

With that I walked out and immediately hopped in the shower. Who knows what germs he was harboring on the sheets, or on him. I don’t usually sleep in the same bed with another. Unless it’s someone I’ve known for a while, like Riley. But I would have to think awhile before I did that. She probably was more likely to have a disease in her unwashed sheets than Jackson.

When I got out of the shower, I towel dried my long brown hair and blew dry it with a hairbrush until it was partially straight. After that I started on the makeup process. I only put on a bit just to waken up my face even more from the shower. I don’t know why I was getting ready. I guess it just felt nice to finally look decent. I haven’t put on much makeup or did my hair since I’ve got here.

When I walked downstairs to get into the car, I saw Jackson already down there. He was sliding on his shoes and jacket. He looked up and almost did a double take. “You actually got ready?” he inquired.

I merely shrugged. “I figured ‘why not?’”

He beamed at me. “Well, you look ni--”

“Can it, Rathbone,” I interrupted. “Let’s just go eat.”

We drove for a little while back into downtown. The little place we were headed was a diner off on the other side. It was by a river and surrounded with some short trees rather than an extensive parking lot. When we got to the restaurant, we had to wait ten minutes. I sat in silence, as did Jackson. Except when a few little fans came up and wanted a picture. He usually didn’t get hounded around here, but I can understand when it happened. But I take it he doesn’t mind it when it happened. He seemed nothing but happy to give a picture or autograph to a fan. None of them said anything about me so that was a relief. None of the fans even drew any paparazzi attention.

Once it came time for our turn to be seated, I was starving. It ended up being longer than ten minutes. At least a half hour. And the service sucked. It took ten minutes for two waters to come out. I was about to leave and just go get some fast food somewhere. Jackson wouldn’t give me the keys though. Finally, after we were able to order our meals, Jackson and I got around to talking.

“So,” I started to say. I squeezed a slice of lemon over my cup so the juice could drip in. I didn’t bother to look up as I spoke. “How do you feel about all of this?”

“The arranged marriage?” he assumed.

“Yeah,” I muttered. I hated those words. I hated that those two words controlled my whole life at this point and I could do nothing about it.

“I’m okay with it,” he affirmed lightheartedly, not even thinking much of it.

I slammed my hands on the table. “How?” I demanded in a loud voice. Jackson reached out and touched my hand. A few people looked over. He made a small shushing noise. It pissed me off still that he had no opinion whatsoever about this. He couldn’t date anymore because he was being tied down now to a wife. What guy is just okay with that?

“Not so loud,” he whispered, looking around the room.

I looked at the ceiling and grumbled nonsense under my breath. “How are you okay with this?” I asked once more in a softer voice. I looked back at him.

“I’m just helping a situation.” His face was neutral at this point and staring right into my eyes. It was silent for a moment. I sipped on my water and he fiddled with his fingers. I thought to myself as I read all the labels on the condiments so I didn’t have to look back at him.

“I don’t understand you,” I nagged.

“How?”

“You’re just bothersome, confusing, and difficult. Like any other man. But then you get all touchy and caring and weird. You have like two personalities,” I rattled off, still playing with my straw in the water, pushing around the ice. I didn’t look up at him until I heard him speak.

“I still don’t get where you’re going with that,” he said, seeming intrigued. “Elaborate, would you?”

“I don’t know how to explain it another way.” I scratched the back of my head and looked down. I don’t even know how to explain my thoughts, let alone even begin to understand them. He’s just so different from anyone else. I couldn’t even put a finger on him. He’d badger me to no end, but then do something sweet. Then take it back and replace it with more annoying behavior than before.

“Hmm,” Jackson said, pursing his lips. “I can’t tell if you're the exact opposite and I can fully understand you. Or that I feel the same way about you.”

I kind of recoiled my head and shot him a weird look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

As he spoke, he was completely serious, except with a raised eyebrow. His eyes moved around the room as if he was really recalling everything that came to mind. “You’re bitter, rude, and angry. Constantly. Except you do have those sparks of kindness and playfulness. I can tell there’s another side of you that you don’t want me to know about.” His description was formed in the near exact way I had said mine.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to know about it -- Well actually, I don’t want you to -- But it’s just that I don’t like you,” I rebuffed as I leaned over the table.

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He made a scoffing noise and shook his head. “I’ve done nothing to you. There’s no reason to dislike me.”

“Oh, really?” I said. This conversation was starting to amuse me greatly. “You mess with me constantly, you’re arrogant, you leave all the time, you do everything I tell you not to, and I could really go on forever with this. Would you like to listen?”

“I think that’ll be enough,” he disdained. His voice instantly changed in a way I haven’t heard before. “It isn’t like you’ve been a ball of sunshine since you’ve been around here.”

“I don’t have a reason to be. I was ripped out of my house and forced to marry you.” My tone of voice started to get harsher with every syllable.

He started to talk with his hands a lot. I could tell he was getting really mad. “Do you think I want to be in this mess? I was forced just like you. At least I gave it an optimistic outlook. You gave it nothing. I tried to look for the best in you and, frankly, I don’t think there is anything good in you. I hate rudeness and you are the definition of it. I don’t even know why I put up with you,” he fumed.

“I-I--” I started to say in a nervous stutter.

“Just stop.” He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a fifty, then slammed it on the table. Our lunch had to be less than that, but I doubt he cared. He stood up and shoved his chair in then strode off. I let out a heaving breath and followed after him. A few tables around us were watching.

We drove off in silence. Well, until I noticed something different about the scenery. It wasn’t as desolate as where we lived. Little houses started to fly by as Jackson bitterly raced down the street. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” The tone of his voice scared me. I could never see him getting this angry and there he was. I sank down in my seat. I didn’t say anything until we pulled up to a house.

“Get out,” he demanded.

“Where are we?” I challenged before making any movement out of the car.

He reached over and unbuckled me. “Get out.”

“No.”

He unlocked the doors and he crawled out I could see him coming around the front to get me. I quickly jumped to the driver’s seat and shifted to reverse. Before I could pull out, he jumped into the car and grabbed me. I flung around to make it more difficult for him to pick me up. “Get off of me. Let me go!” I exploded. His arms wrapped around my body and yanked me out.

When he pulled me out of the car, he hung me over his shoulder. My head was dangling down by his lower back. I started kicking and punching while screaming. He kept walking until we reached the front door. Someone already opened the door.

“Is this her?” someone at the door asked.

“Yep,” Jackson said. “You keep her for the night.”

“What’s in it for me?” the guy asked jokingly.

“I’ll find something out later,” Jackson said unamused. He then walked in and dropped me on the couch. Then walked out. I growled again and started to get up. The guy closed and locked the door before I made it to the door.

“Bad,” he scolded, then laughed at his own remark.

“Who are you?” I crabbed. My breathing was still off from the screaming and hopping around, I tried to pull in more air before I tried talking again.

“I’m Ben. Ben Graupner. Jackson’s friend,” he introduced. He held out his hand and I shook it reluctantly.

“Marissa,” I greeted.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here,” I insisted and walked back over to the couch.

“Well Jay doesn’t want you there. And I know you haven’t really wanted to be there lately,” he explained.

“He told you about me?”

“A little. Nothing too bad. Don’t worry,” he said, plopping on the couch next to me. “I wouldn’t want to be in an arranged marriage either.”

I eyed him for a moment. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“‘Cause I agree with you to some extent. But I do think you should give Jackson a break. He’s been trying.”

“That’s what you think,” I countered, still feeling exasperated from this whole fight.

“We’ll just try to calm down for the night, alright?”

I grunted in response.

He tossed some blankets on top of me. “I have to go work on some band stuff. You’re welcome to use the T.V.”

“Are you in Jackson’s band?” I asked, remembering when he told me he was in some sort of band. It shocked me how much I remembered about him. I began to feel some guilt about being so rude to him, but I swallowed the feeling instantly.

“Yeah. 100 Monkeys.” He had started up the stairs already.

I sighed and grabbed the remote. At least I have some kind of break from him. I just hope tomorrow will be better.