Page 22 of Trading Paint
We had just gotten back from Skagit and Jameson was in no condition to sleep with his concussion. He was loopy and the drugs we gave him were beginning to wear off.
Just so you know a race car driver’s idea of pain medication was a beer and threeExcedrin...not exactly healthy.
He was about to answer me when Emma came stumbling into his room singingTake my Breath Awayat the top of her lungs.
I tackled her against the hardwood floor, “If you know what’s best for you—stop singing that fucking song!” I seethed.
Jameson and I equally hated that song and she fucking knew it.
When I first met Emma, I thought, “Oh she’s sweet.”
I was wrong and understood why Jameson petitioned to have her adopted by the zoo when he was five. It was where the little weirdo belonged.
I finally got her to leave only after I threatened to dump out all her lotions and burn her favorite pair of jeans.
Relaxing back on the bed, I asked again. “Okay, what movie are we watching?”
“The Exorcist,” he yawned, turning off the light on the nightstand, leaving his room dark.
I panicked and voiced my concerns. I hated scary movies almost as much as I hated the word uterus. “It’s evident that you forgot what happened when you forced me to watchThe Shinningwhen we were thirteen so let me remind you, I pissed the bed for a goddamn week. I might add I still can’t look at twins the same way ever again.” I ranted while he rolled his eyes. “Oh and let’s not forget when we watchedJawsand I couldn’t so much as take a bath for months convinced a great white would come up through the drain and bite my girly parts off.” This time he chuckled. “Then there was the time you insisted we watch that ghastly movie with the birds in it and I couldn’t walk outside without thinking a fucking crow was going to peck me to death. This,” I pointed at the television, “is a horrible idea!”
His hand flicked the light, leaving the room dark again.
“You’rewatching it.”
“No, I’m not.” I insisted, turning it back on.
I lost that battle real quick and we ended up watching it despite my attempts to knock him off the bed and burn the tape.
Later that night, securely in my own bed at home, I was spooked. Let’s be real. I was fucking petrified.
Ilaidparalyzed with every light in my entire bedroom blazing with my window wide open.
Why did I leave that open?
I pulled the covers up higher covering my face up to eyes, which were wildly searching around the room.
I absolutely hated Jameson with every fiber of my being in that moment but also wished he was there.
My paranoid self was beginning to hear things that weren’t there and talking to myself.
What the fuck is that?
Nothing...Just close your eyes!
Am I really having a conversation with myself again?
Not understanding why my window was open, I was about to get up and close it when I heard my phone vibrating on my nightstand—picking it up when I saw the name.
“I was worried about you.” Jameson said softly. “Are you okay?”
“You better get your ass over here right now you mother fucking scary movie pusher,” I seethed and hung up.
I ran downstairs and was out the door before he even hung up. He met me at the end of my street seeing how our houses were less than a mile away and if you cut through the trees, it took only two minutes to get there.
Why I was running around at three in the morning should have concerned me more that the goddamn movie but I was a chicken shit and I needed Jameson.
I also wanted to kick the shit out of him.
