Page 42 of Playing with Fire

I tell him to move on while I stand up and extend my hands towards him. He moves out of the booth and carefully grabs my hands. He gave me some assistance but then I had him rise to his feet.

I grabbed his arm to guide him outside. My shoulder felt the cool breeze which caused me to shiver slightly during my adjustment to the new temperature.

By observing the blonde hair of the two people on the steps I recognized them immediately.

Hazel remarks with a grin, "It's strange to see both of you here," as I take my place beside them. I offer Hazel a tiny smile and then lean forward to examine Felix. Felix showed the same level of disorientation that Jaxon displayed.

What the hell did they drink?

Has he shared with you what Travis gave him? I asked Hazel.

"No." she shakes her head.

"This prom is so lame!" Felix complains loudly from the opposite side where Hazel sat.

"I know Felix, I know." Hazel Calmly responds to his loud manner.

Jaxon muttered something beside me, but his words were too quiet to understand. I reached into my purse to retrieve my keys. "Here," I handed them to her. "Take my car. I'll drive him home."

Jaxon drove himself here and Hazel joined me in carpooling. He is aware that I must use his car.

"Thank you, Em."

"Don't worry about it." I sigh.

They rise from their seats, and I bid Hazel farewell. I observe them depart while a tap on my leg interrupts my focus.

When I looked at Jaxon his keys were visible in his hand. I grab the keys from him before turning back to face forward.

Our position remains fixed while we continue sitting here. The slight breeze combined with the lukewarm temperature made me hesitant to leave.

I spun his keys on my finger while I rested back onto my palms. I draw air into my lungs before letting it escape slowly into the atmosphere.

"Did you mean that?" Jaxon asks, leaning against the railing. "Mean what?" I answer him but find myself wondering about the direction of this conversation.

My behavior leads to you losing time through pointless disagreements. He reminds me of our conversation from the start of this week.

The situation surprised me until I noticed he was drunk and likely to speak nonsense.

I scoff. "All the fucking time."

Upon turning his head, I noticed the clear expression etched onto his face. He looks upset.

Why does he look upset?

"Uhm–I don't know." I find myself saying more. "Sometimes it's pointless."

"Okay, but why sometimes? He challenges me with the question, "Don't you think it happens more often than you believe."

I direct my gaze ahead and take a moment to reflect. Almost everything we bicker about is pointless. And that's way more often than sometimes. It's all the time.

I catch a glimpse of his profile as he straightens up while rhythmically tapping on the metal railing. Though, I look away just as quickly.

"Please understand that I'm unable to maintain a nice demeanor towards you," he explains.

I almost laugh at myself. "Who’s that?" I ask. He mutters "That's just how it works." "That's how we work, am I wrong?"

I start to feel my brows furrow. He demonstrated a surprising amount of wisdom despite his minimal sobriety. When did I ever treat you with kindness? he asks.

---