Chapter 73 - Intensity Mixed With Denial.

Jack. 

Holy fuck. 

What have I done?

Who the hell am I?

I close the door to his apartment, completely frozen and confused. I had sex with Patrick. 

The guy I have been tormenting all this while.

I remember the sex. 

I lied.

I remember last night, and I can't stop thinking about it. I run all the way to my apartment and sneak into my room, not in the mood to face my dad right now. Lance wasn't around last night; he went back to his new home with Ford. That is why I was forced to be with Patrick. 

Whenever I have issues with my dad, for my own sanity, I like to be around people. Patrick was the only one around, he was my last resort and I guess I was vulnerable. 

That has to be the only explanation. 

I close my room door quietly and rest my back on it as I try to catch my breath. I am still in my underwear. I still can't remember where I put my clothes. I need to fucking stop drinking. Nothing good ever comes from Drunk Jack. 

I hear my phone vibrate on my bed—guess I left it here last night. I grab it hurriedly and Lance's face pops up brightly. 

I blame this on Lance. if he was home and he never moved, I would've been with him. We would've spent the night playing video games. I wouldn't have had sex with Patrick. 

''What do you want?'' I blurt into the phone. 

''Good morning to you too.'' 

I roll my eyes ''It is six in the morning, why are you calling me so early?'' I grumble, still in my terrified/angry mood. 

Lance is my best friend. Maybe I should tell him about last night. He could tell me what to do. I feel really bad cause I blamed it all on Patrick and I was really mean to him.

It wasn't his fault. 

We were both drunk, I wasn't that drunk. Okay, I was but I still knew what I was doing. 

''Ford has basketball practice this morning, so he had to leave at the crack of dawn. Will you come and pick me up?'' 

''Yeah, sure.'' 

''Cool, see you at seven.''

He ends the call and I throw my phone back on the bed. Running my hands through my hair as I release a sigh of frustration. My door opens abruptly catching me off guard. My dad walks into the room and raises a brow at me. 

''Where are your fucking clothes?'' he questions examining me from head to toe.

''This is how I sleep,'' I tell him with a shrug. 

''You didn't sleep here last night.''

''I was with Lance,'' I lie. 

I don't know if this is any concern of his. He is never here. If he isn't in jail, he is passed out at bars. He doesn't take care of me, he doesn't do anything. the only reason I have been able to survive is thanks to Lance and his mom. They take care of me; they make sure I have groceries. They make sure I have money to survive and here he is acting like he suddenly cares where I was last night. 

''We're out of beer,'' he announces to me as if that has suddenly become my concern. 

''You're out of beer,'' I correct him. 

He glares at me, suddenly getting his anger back. He was so angry last night. He threw his usual tantrum of throwing empty bottles at me. I haven't seen him in a while and the first thing he did was to yell and throw shit at me. 

''I'll get some later.''

With that, he walks out of the room and I huff out a sigh of relief. I put on my work out clothes and grab my phone and Airpods—well Lance's Airpods that I stole from the case. 

Early morning runs help me calm down. 

They help me start out my day with a refreshed mood. 

I run until my legs ache, I run away all the problems in my life, all the thoughts that could potentially ruin my day. I run until I can't run anymore. After about forty-five minutes, I go to the convenience store by the apartment to get the beer for him. I know I shouldn't be indulging him. I shouldn't be buying him the one thing that makes me hate him, but ignoring his demands make things worse for me. 

''Hey, Fred,'' I greet the regular cashier. 

Fred is an Indian American, who lives above the store. We have an acquaintance thing going. Whenever I come to get stuff, we end up talking. 

''I haven't seen Lance in a while,'' he waves me over. 

I run over to the fridge and grab a pack of the good stuff. The same ones that got me so drunk with Patrick. Fucking Patrick and his alluring demeanour. 

''He's at his mom's place,'' I explain. 

He furrows his brows ''They don't live here anymore?''

I sigh ''Long story man,'' I reach for my wallet in my pocket but then I realise that these are not my pants from last night ''Shit, I left my wallet upstairs.''

I lie, I don't even know where it is. I don't know where my clothes are. Shit, shit, shit. 

A memory suddenly hits me. 

From last night. Bringing out my wallet, going up to Lance's apartment. Tossing the wallet on the couch. 

''Oh my god,'' I shout grabbing the strands of my hair totally getting upset with myself. 

''You can pay later. I know you're good for it,'' Fred suggests. 

''I'll get it to you on my way to school. I promise,'' I assure him.

He nods in understanding and I walk back to the apartment building, straight to my apartment. Dad is in his room; I can hear the tv blaring loudly. the only tv in the house is in his room because he is a selfish motherfucker. The man cares about nothing but himself. Half the time, he doesn't even remember that he has a son. 

I go into the shower hurriedly because I am already late and here, I am talking myself into going back to Patrick's apartment to get the wallet. I don't even know where Lance's house key is. I have the spare and now I have lost it. 

How irresponsible could I be?

After my shower, I get dressed and go up to his floor, because I need my stuff. I have to look for the key at least. I raise my hand to knock on the door, but he opens it before I get the chance, he is already dressed for—I am assuming, work. His eyes open wide, shock written all over his face. 

I said I wasn't going to come back to him and here I am, a couple of hours later. 

''You left your wallet,'' he admits at once without even waiting for me to say anything. 

He walks back in grabs it from the dining table ''I didn't know how to give it back to you,'' his cheeks redden as he walks back to me.

I reach for it and our hands brush against each other. I feel the tinge, the spark, the electricity that I shouldn't feel but I choose to ignore it as I grab the wallet from him. I open it up and zip up the tiny pocket inside. 

The key is not where it usually is. 

''What's wrong?'' he asks. 

''Lance's key. I went up there last night. I don't know where the key is now.'' I confess defeatedly. 

''You remember?'' 

Shit. 

''No, I mean, yeah. Just bits and pieces.'' 

I don't want him to know that I remember all that we did. I don't want him to know that I keep thinking about it. that I didn't hate it as much as I should. I don't want him to know any of that. 

He nods ''Oh,'' he looks around the living room and I walk in with him ''We can try to see if it is somewhere around. If you want to?'' 

I manage a faint smile because this is a lot more awkward than last night. I don't like this feeling. I don't like everything that is happening. He shuffles through the couch. I don't know if we will be successful because the key is so tiny, and I was supposed to attach it to my car key, but I procrastinated until I never did. 

''Not here,'' he says standing up. ''Should we check the bedroom?''

I close my eyes from just the mention of the bedroom. Memories of the things we did in there. 

''Don't stop,'' he pleads as I thrust into him deeper. 

Sweat trickles down my face and lands on his forehead as I steal another kiss in between plunges. My heart thuds vociferously in my chest as he claws my back with his nails. 

The intensity of all the emotions hit me and I moan out from the bliss of it all ''You feel so good,'' I confess in a whisper. 

He smiles as his eyes roll back from the pleasure. I thrust harder, wanting to feel more of him, wanting to feel everything. 

Fuck. 

I open my eyes, my breath heavy. He is watching me with confusion etched to his face. 

Holy shit, what is happening?

''I gotta go,'' I don't wait for him as I run out of his apartment, completely ashamed of myself.