Chapter 20: Obama's Head

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this is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. first to let go of life and finally, to take a step without feet.

A N N A B E T H

So here's the thing- I might be a criminal now.

I don't know if it's illegal to pepper spray someone in the eyes for fun. But for argument's sake- in case I was forced to go to a court hearing for it- it technically wasn't for fun.

I could argue that I had been harassed long enough- which was completely true. Enough people would back me up. 

Pepper spraying someone in the eyes guaranteed pain. To my knowledge it was even banned in Belgium- so it's a good thing I'm not there at the moment because I would certainly end up going to jail.

Even though Ralph had proven to be a terrible, terrible person- I felt horrible for even doing it. Yes, your honor- I am sorry for causing him bodily harm. But this man won't leave me alone!

Jokes aside, I genuinely felt horrible on the inside.

I didn't know if it was because I felt bad for pepper-spraying him in the eyes. I didn't know if it was because I knew James got punched in the face. I didn't know if it was because of what he said.

Half your family is dead. Deadbeat daddy in jail.

I feel my lips turn downward, as I stare at my pencil.

That wasn't a nice thing to bring up. It was a very triggering thing to say.

A part of me also felt horrible because telling him off made me remember all the bad things I associated him with.

I feel a hand press against the small of my back and I look up.

"You're being all quiet," James says to me, his gray eyes boring into mine, "C'mon, talk to me, Evans."

I look down at the tiny cut on his lower lip- the one Ralph had caused. 

I had insisted that we go to the nurse's office because he was bleeding, but since there was no one there I had grabbed a swab of cotton myself and pressed it against his lip until it stopped bleeding.

After that, we walked to the diner together wordlessly.

I couldn't bring myself to speak as much as I usually did. Sometimes, a person's words alone can make you miserable on the inside.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not one bit," he says firmly, and I look away again.

"I'm-"

"Don't apologize," he warns.

"But I-"

"No, seriously, shut up."

I swallow, looking down at my fingers. "But I am s-"

An arm wraps around me, pressing my face into a hard chest, effectively muffling the rest of the sentence.

I feel something slightly heavy against my head, and it takes a beat before I realize that the side of his cheek was pressed against my hair.

"What are you doing?" I ask him quietly.

"Offering comfort," he grumbles, as one of his palms press against the back of my neck, "He's an asshole."

I stay stiff for a few more seconds before I slump against him. My forehead pressed against the spot between his neck and shoulder as he tightened his arms around me.

While I had nearly gotten used to how often James swore, it still had me tensing sometimes. Force of habit, I suppose.

"He is," I say in quiet agreement.

"Next time," he tells me softly, "Turn around and walk away. I'll beat his ass."

I smile, just a little although my eyes were starting to sting. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"You could totally take him in a fight," I tell him with a discreet sniff.

"Mhm," he nods against my head.

I would have felt weird about hugging him in a diner if it weren't for the fact that we were sitting in an inconspicuous corner that was hidden from nearly everyone.

But it makes me feel a lot better. Better enough to say what had been running through my mind.

"He shouldn't have brought my family up," I say meekly, closing my eyes, "That was mean."

"That was fucking uncalled for," he agrees almost instantly, "He shouldn't ever bring shit like that up. It makes me mad."

Is that why you punched Ian Jenson that day? Because he said something about your family? I want to ask him that, but I think I already know the answer.

James lived with his Aunt. I knew his primary family wasn't around and while I was curious, it wasn't my place to ask.

I also knew that if he asked me to explain what Ralph had meant by his little comment, I'd probably cry explaining it to him. I didn't think I was ready to tell him any of that either.

"Was what you said true?" he asks me quietly after a few more moments of silence. "He hurt you-?"

"Yeah," I confess quietly, "He cheated on me with my twin brother's girlfriend the day he asked me to be his girlfriend."

"Fucking prick," he mutters angrily.

"And when I wouldn't listen to him, he'd try holding me in place," my voice gets quieter because I feel even worse talking about it, "It made my arms bruise a couple of times. At a party, he even tried to.. y'know. Beth broke his nose and sprained his wrist for that."

"I'll break it again."

"You might have to sit a game ou-"

"Who cares?" he grits out, "Next time I see him, it's on sight. I'll break his stupid ass nose and his wrist."

I really want to cry now. I'm not sure why, but I just do.

Maybe because I was starting to see that he did care a lot more than he let on and it made me all emotional? Or maybe it was because what Ralph said was still running through my mind.

I don't think he'd appreciate me getting snot all over his clothes though.

Especially since he wore dark clothes and it'd be very visible on them. No ma'am.

"Is snot difficult to wash off dark clothes?" I ask him randomly.

"What the fuck," he mutters, pulling away for a moment to give me a weirded-out look and I manage a smile that was bigger than the one before. It's genuine too.

"No snot because you're not crying on me, Evans," he warns, "You better smile like the little ray of sunshine you are or I'm leaving you here."

"Yeah right," my smile widens, and I shake my head at him, "I know you wouldn't leave me here, Jimothy."

"There it is," he pats my cheek like I do to him, and I stick my tongue out at him. "Good girl."

I raise my eyebrows at him, but there's a small tiny part of me that got all goey and mushy when he said that.

"Now," he pretends not to notice my expression, "I'm going to say something and after today we're going to pretend like you never heard the words come out of my mouth."

"Ooooh, is it top secret?" my eyes go wide, and I look up at him from where my chin was pressed against his chest.

"No," I'd almost say the look on his face was mildly embarrassed and I don't understand why until his next sentence. 

"When life gives you lemons, freeze them and throw them as hard as you can at the people making your life difficult."

Huh?

I blink at him, "What- Where did that come from?"

He glares down at me. "What? You have a bunch of stupid one-liners ready whenever someone's upset. I figured it would work."

I give him an appalled look and then a slow smile begins to inch up my lips.

"No."

"What?" he glares harder.

"Tell me you didn't just google that."

"I didn't," he denies almost instantly although I can see a faint flush spreading across his cheeks, "Evans, I did not-"

"Oh, ho ho you totally did," I want to laugh because this has got to be the most endearing thing I've ever seen, but I hold it back, "So you want me to throw frozen lemons at Ralph?"

"And I'll help," he nods, with a very determined look, "I hate him."

"Well JJJ," I tell him with a big grin, "I'm down if you are."

"Bet," he even humors me by shaking my hand when I extend it towards him like this was an important business deal.


"It's sealed, my brotha," I nod very seriously to which he rolls his eyes, "And James?"

"What now?" he gives me a snarky look, but I give him the most genuine soft smile I can.


"Thank you," I tell him, my voice sincere, "For making me feel better."

He stares for a moment, before looking the other way. "Whatever."


*****

"I'm not doing any more of this shit," James says after two hours, pushing the sheets away from him.

"You don't have to," I tell him, scribbling down the last answer, "We're done."

"Oh, thank fuck," he mumbles under his breath, dropping his pen before he stretches his arms onto the desk, plonking his head onto them. 

I try very hard not to stare at his arms, despite the fact that he has... very nice arms, wow-

I close my eyes turning the other way. 

No. Do not think of them. 

Do not think of the muscles, or the veins, no sir-

When I'm certain that the perverted part of my brain has retreated back to its confines, I turn back to him to see his eyes closed, with his head angled my way, and his jaw only slightly clenched. The faint sunlight streaming through the glass windows of the diner made his dark, fluffy hair seem shinier than usual. 

"What do you use for your hair?" I blurt, before I can help it.

He opens a single eye to give me a blank look. "What?"

"Your hair," I repeat, looking at his dark locks, "I remember wanting to ask what you use for it, because you've got very nice, and soft hair-"

"I really haven't," he mutters, before his eyes flutter shut again. He had better eyelashes than me too, dang it. 

"You do," I argue, reaching forward to touch it, "See?"

His eyes snap open again, and I pull my hand back realizing what I had just done. "Shoot, I am so sorry- I didn't mean to touch it without permission-"

He glares at me. "Don't take your hand off."

"I- wh? Huh?" I frown at him in confusion.

"I said," he glares harder, "don't take your hand off."

"Off what?"

"Obama's head," he deadpans, but when he sees my confused look he rolls his eyes as if I was the one causing an inconvenience, "Put your hand back on my head, idiot."

"See, when you say it like that, I really don't know if you're threatening m-"

"Shut the hell up, and do it Evans."

My lips instantly seal of their own accord, as I lift my hand to his hair, albeit its more hesitant this time.

"Good," his eyes close again, "Now do the thing."

"What thing?"

"Fuck if I know," he grumbles, opening his eyes to glare at me again, "the thing you do with peoples' hair- the stroking shit or whatever." When he sees the baffled look on my face, he gives me a dirty look of his own. "Well? Go on, do it. You're the one who said it was soft."

"I-okay," I can feel my cheeks heating up, as I let my hand sink into his fluffy hair, and as my fingers gently, but reluctantly, run through his hair, all the frown lines on his face automatically relax.

And as his eyes stay shut, his face relaxes and a small rumble of content and approval comes from his chest- and I can't help but think that James is the perfect epitome of a grumpy cat.

And it is very, very endearing.

*****

"Did you know that there's a little trip we get to go on, as a part of the program?" I ask James excitedly, the next day.

"What?" he scowls over at me, "A trip? To where?"

"We're doing a university tour and a museum tour," I tell him- holding our exchange program manual up for him to see, "It's going to take almost two days so we're staying one night at a motel near one of the museums."

"Museum tour?" he repeats, and I see an almost pleased look on his face.

Oh? Oh okay. Here's something useful.

"Ah," I muse out loud, "Does Jamie-boy like museum tours?"

"Never said that," he mutters, rolling his eyes and turning away.

"You didn't have to," I sing, waving the little brochure in his face, "Take a look at the itinerary though- we're spending a good chunk of time at Carnegie."

He gives me a look, but plucks it out of my grasp and lets his eyes run over the brochure.

Not interested, my butt.

I glance down at the exchange program manual which was where the brochure came from, and although there's only a week left- there's still almost half of it left to read.

Huh. Odd.

But eh. I shrug it off, putting it back into my backpack while waiting for James to finish reading the little trip brochure.

Guess I'll just look at those pages later.

thanks for reading ! don't forget to vote and comment :)

idk how many people remember but the last version was supposed to have a 'trip' but I didn't include it because I forgot about it till people reminded me in the comments LMAOOOO but yeah, the next 1.5-2 chapters will be about that ig. and AFTER that, well O.o

also, I promise I read all your comments sorry again for not replying lately- I'm just trying to get these updates out as fast as possible before I get real busy w schoolwork <3

Cassie's bucket list #20: Tape a walkie-talkie to a garden gnome, and yell at people walking by.


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