Coping
M is for Maybe I need some rehab, or maybe just need some sleep.-April/Jackson-PG
For Josie
“Do you think we drink too much?” April asked.
While sipping something pink and girly through a straw and ignoring the beer he’d ordered for her.
“No,” Jackson answered, nursing his own beer.
“Really?” she asked. “You don’t even have to think about it?”
He laughed. “You’d feel better if I had to contemplate if we’re alcoholics?”
“Well,” she paused. “At least I’d know you were taking it seriously.”
He pushed the beer closer to her. “We don’t drunk too much.”
“We drink a lot.”
“We survived a trauma. We’re coping.”
She glanced around the bar. “I’m not sure this is coping. At least not in, like, a healthy way or anything.”
He shrugged. “Never said it was healthy.”
“But you said,” she protested.
“I think it’s somewhere between healthy and unhealthy.”
She frowned. “I…don’t know what that means.”
“We’re at a healthy level of unhealthy.”
“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” she said.
“We’re fine.”
She frowned. “I’m kind of afraid I’m going to like, walk into an intervention or something and get shipped off to rehab.”
Jackson shook his head. “You don’t need rehab. You might need a little sleep.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe.”
8888888888
He climbed into the cab after her, rattling off her address, a memory he didn’t realize until that moment he had. She closed her eyes, head resting on his shoulder and he wasn’t sure if she was already sleeping.
Or maybe they were drinking too much.
He wasn’t sure why he followed her into her building. Making sure she got there okay or something.
Or something.
She fumbled with her keys in the lock, frowning. “You have to,” she shrugged, “it kind of sticks.”
“Let me,” he said, stepping forward.
His hand covered hers and she gasped, looking up at him, and then his lips were on hers, pushing her up against the door.
“Oh,” she said when she pulled back. “I didn’t…I don’t…sorry.”
He shook his head, finally turning the key in the lock, pushing the door open. “You should get some sleep.”
“Right,” she said, blushing, looking at her shoes. “I’ll just, uh, I’ll go inside and I’ll sleep.”
He tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled nervously. “Yeah,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”
For Josie
“Do you think we drink too much?” April asked.
While sipping something pink and girly through a straw and ignoring the beer he’d ordered for her.
“No,” Jackson answered, nursing his own beer.
“Really?” she asked. “You don’t even have to think about it?”
He laughed. “You’d feel better if I had to contemplate if we’re alcoholics?”
“Well,” she paused. “At least I’d know you were taking it seriously.”
He pushed the beer closer to her. “We don’t drunk too much.”
“We drink a lot.”
“We survived a trauma. We’re coping.”
She glanced around the bar. “I’m not sure this is coping. At least not in, like, a healthy way or anything.”
He shrugged. “Never said it was healthy.”
“But you said,” she protested.
“I think it’s somewhere between healthy and unhealthy.”
She frowned. “I…don’t know what that means.”
“We’re at a healthy level of unhealthy.”
“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” she said.
“We’re fine.”
She frowned. “I’m kind of afraid I’m going to like, walk into an intervention or something and get shipped off to rehab.”
Jackson shook his head. “You don’t need rehab. You might need a little sleep.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe.”
8888888888
He climbed into the cab after her, rattling off her address, a memory he didn’t realize until that moment he had. She closed her eyes, head resting on his shoulder and he wasn’t sure if she was already sleeping.
Or maybe they were drinking too much.
He wasn’t sure why he followed her into her building. Making sure she got there okay or something.
Or something.
She fumbled with her keys in the lock, frowning. “You have to,” she shrugged, “it kind of sticks.”
“Let me,” he said, stepping forward.
His hand covered hers and she gasped, looking up at him, and then his lips were on hers, pushing her up against the door.
“Oh,” she said when she pulled back. “I didn’t…I don’t…sorry.”
He shook his head, finally turning the key in the lock, pushing the door open. “You should get some sleep.”
“Right,” she said, blushing, looking at her shoes. “I’ll just, uh, I’ll go inside and I’ll sleep.”
He tucked her hair behind her ears. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She smiled nervously. “Yeah,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”