Boston.
Chapter 02.

"You're not bored with me already, are you?"

Boston looked up from her lunch (Taco Bell--her choice; she'd never pass up tacos), gray eyes wide and confused. "Wait, what?" she asked, picking up a napkin and wiping the side of her mouth.

Jackson smiled. "Are you bored with me?"

She shook her head. "No, no. I'm. Sorry-- Did I make you think that? Because I'm not, no, I--"

He laughed. "Calm down, girl," he said, "I was joking." He paused. "Kind of."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"Well, if we're on the subject of boredom," Boston started. "You must be bored hearing me talk about myself. So tell me something about you."

Jackson paused. "How does boredom tie in to you wanting to hear about me?"

"Hey, I never said it was a good segue," she shrugged. "I just think I deserve some information about you."

"I can see how you would think that is fair."

She laughed. "So am I gonna have to force it out of you, or?"

"Only if you want to," he said, winking.

Boston rolled her eyes. "You're horrible."

"It's been said before," he agreed.

"Where did you grow up?"

"Mainly in Texas, if you couldn't tell by my, uh, slight Southern drawl," he said, barely smiling.

Boston smiled.

"Then I guess I got into acting. I've done a few movies, some shows, but I'm really into music, too. I don't know, I just don't like to be pinned into one category. I don't like to feel cornered," he said.

"Me, neither. Which is why I got out of Ohio while I could."

"Was Ohio that bad?"

She sent him a look which could only be incorporated as a 'duh, what do you think?' "Yeah. To put it simply...yeah."

"Why was it so horrible?"

"Oh, look at that," she commented, looking at her watch. "It's late. We should go." She took a napkin and wiped her mouth before standing up. "Let's go."

"That was so, so subtle," Jackson said. "Really. Avoiding the question much?"

She looked down, scratching at the side of her head.

"Okay, I won't push it. We'll play your game for now."

"I wasn't aware I was playing a game," Boston said, picking up her bag.

Jackson smiled. "Well, I'm good at games. We'll play mine next. Whenever you're ready."

Boston sent him a sideways look. "Should I be scared?"

He nodded. "It's very possible."

She smiled.

"I think I've seen every aspect of Port Angeles that I could ever want to see," Jackson commented.

Boston laughed. "Not that there's much to see, am I right?"

"Why don't you live in Seattle?"

"Coffee isn't my thing. I do like grunge, though."

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Nirvana is my favorite band of all time. I've never loved any band as much as I love them. That and I'm a little obsessed with Kurt. But that's expected, right? I mean, I've travelled to Joaquim, where he lived, but I figure going beyond that is just a little stalker-like and, well, creepy," she said.

Jackson laughed. "Wow, I thought you were kidding. A little. I mean. Nirvana's good."

"Good?" she asked, eyebrows shooting up. "No, no. Let me tell you a little something about good. Good is the first sunny day above sixty degrees. Good is getting to a movie theater just in time for the previews. Good is relative. Nirvana, however, is timeless. Nirvana is brilliance and--"

Jackson laughed.

Boston paused. "You're laughing at me," she stated.

"You're getting so worked up over a band."

"Nirvana is not just a band, Jackson," she said. "I could go on and on for days. You don't want to hear me talk for that long, though, so I probably won't. But trust me, I could."

Jackson smiled. "You know. When you talk about that, your eyes light up."

She rolled her eyes. "That was lame."

"I'm wounded. That wasn't a come on line, Boston, I swear. I mean, it could be," he shrugged.

"Sorry. I just get really into it, I guess," she told him.

"Is that how you are in your classes?"

Boston laughed. "I have been known to get into heated debates with my students over discrepancies in cases. And I have been known to yell sometimes, but. I can't help it. I'm really passionate about things like that so of course i get into it."

"It's good to be that passionate about something."

"Are you that way with acting?"

"I don't yell about it but, yeah, I am. And my music. Probably more with music, though," he told her.

She nodded and looked out of the window of the small bookstore. "I think it stopped snowing."

"Why did you leave Ohio so quickly?"

She looked back at Jackson, her gray eyes wide. Pausing for a second, she looked down at her hands. "Why does it matter?"

"Because it's clearly made you who you are."

"Past experiences usually do," she said quietly, fiddling her thumbs.

Jackson reached over, taking one of Boston's hands in his own. She lifted her eyes from her hands to his face. "What happened, Boston?"

"Nothing I can't handle."

He sighed, looking down. "Why don't you want to open up?"

"Because I don't know you."

"You know me better than most of the people in my life," he told her. "Just because we haven't known each other for weeks, months, or even years, doesn't mean you don't know me. The length of time isn't important here, it's the quality. And you happen to know more about me, my past, my life, my goals, than anyone else I talk to," he explained. "I've opened up to you. And maybe it's because it's easier for me to trust someone, and that's okay. I just..."

"You want reciprocity."

He shrugged, his thumb sliding over her pale knuckles. "I guess I just feel like since I've barred my soul to you, you'd allow me just a little bit of insight as to what's going on in that beautiful mind of yours."

She looked down. "I'm just. Really not good at this whole...opening up...thing. The whole...vulnerability deal? That's not me. I'm not into opening up, sharing my feelings--"

"Letting your guard down?"

"Yeah. That. I just. I'm a private person. And I like being that way. I don't like people knowing what I'm thinking or what I'm feeling. That's how I've always been."

"But why have you always been that way?" he asked. "I mean, no one is born with these brick walls around their heart. No one is born automatically not trusting anyone. It's all in experience. You have a Masters in psychology--you know this better than me."

She sighed. "Jackson. I just...can't, y'know, like flip a switch and suddenly be okay with opening up."

"I know."

"Let's stop talking about this. It's crossing into uncomfortable and awkward territory."

"For you or for me?"

"For me."

Jackson just watched her face for a minute. "Do you let anyone in?"

"Yes."

"Besides your best friends?"

"Oh. Then no," she said, shaking her head.

"Why not?"

"Well... Not trusting people is trendy now," she said, smiling slightly.

Jackson smiled in spite of himself.

"I'm sorry, you know I just...don't do the whole opening up thing. I told you that. But if you really want to know, I guess. It's. It's because my mother left my family when I was eight. My father rapidly deteriorated from there in every way, my sister gave up and left when she was sixteen because she didn't want to deal with him or me," she shrugged. "That's a part of it."

"So that's why you don't trust anyone?"

She shook her head. "That's why I'm weary of people. I'm not so damaged that I don't trust anyone, you know?"

"I... Not really," he admitted.

Boston laughed. "Well, it's like this. I don't mind opening up. It's difficult but I can do it. I'm just not good at it. Because of my situation growing up, I just became weary, right? Because what if I tell someone everything and they leave? Or, well, what if they stay?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah, I. I get that."

Boston smiled.

"Do you think you'll ever get to the point where you'll be secure enough to relinquish that control and trust someone completely?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. But I really am trying. I've gotten closer since I've moved here, believe it or not. Addison, my best friend, she... She can vouch for that."

"Maybe it's just different for me to understand and comprehend because my childhood was so different."

"I wouldn't have even called it 'childhood' n my case. I never really had the chance to be a kid. I had to grow up too fast."

"And that's unfortunate. You've missed out on so much. It really isn't fair."

Boston shrugged. "Life's not fair."

"Yeah, but--" Jackson sighed and rolled his eyes as his cell phone rang. "Sorry, I just--" he reached for his phone. "Sorry. It could just be a--"

"Top secret important mission? Got it. Go ahead," she said.

"Thanks. Excuse me."

Boston stood up and walked around the table, eyeing books on the shelves, wanting to give him a little privacy. She could hear Jackson talking quietly on his phone, almost as if he didn't want her to hear for a reason. She shrugged it off--told herself to stop being so paranoid. She smoothed down the front of her jeans before hooking her thumbs in her pockets.

Jackson muttered something, angry and unintelligible, snapping his phone shut. "I'm sorry about that. It was--"

"It's okay. You don't have to explain anything," she assured him, smiling softly.

"I know, I just," he sighed. "I just have to go."

"Oh. Okay," she said.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she told him, shrugging. "No big deal, right?"

Jackson grabbed his jacket. he pulled it on, looking awkward and nervous, uncomfortable. "I'll, um."

"Coffee shop in the morning?" she asked, surprised by how hopeful (and desperate) she thought she sounded.

"I--" He sighed again. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there." He paused, then shook his head. He turned toward the door, stopped, turned back to Boston. "Well, shit."

"What?" Boston asked, confused.

"Nothing," he said, leaning in suddenly and pressing his lips against her. He pulled away just as quick. "Okay."

"Okay?" she asked, cheeks flushing slightly, still confused.

"I have to go. I'll...see you in the morning," he said, rushing out of the bookstore.

Boston stood here, still, utterly confused. She wasn't sure why he was acting so strange and she couldn't really ask him then. Maybe in the morning, she thought to herself.

Boston waited at the coffee shop the next morning--an hour later than she should have. Something inside of her twisted. He wasn't there. And he certainly wasn't going to show. Another hour later, she gave up.

He wasn't coming.

She left.

"What's up with you?"

Boston sighed, setting her bag down on her desk "I'm frustrated."

Addison nodded. "I can tell." She sat down in the folding chair agains the wall. "What happened?"

Another sigh. "I feel so pathetic. It's about a guy."

Addison smiled.

"And it's not good frustration."

"There is no such thing as good frustration."

"Yes, there is."

Addison rolled her eyes. "No, there's no."

"Yeah."

"Okay, fine, tell me what good frustration is, Professor Hawthorne. I'm dying to know."

Boston glared at her friend. "Good frustration is the kind that you know is gonna pay off and you're frustrated over something, or someone, that ultimately makes you happy."

"That's bull and you know it."

"Screw you."

"Okay, now talk to me. What's wrong."

"Well. Okay, you know the guy I met two days ago at the coffee shop? Jackson?"

"The hot one? Yes."

Boston sighed. "Well. We hung out all day yesterday. Literally, all day. From eight am to, like, four. He got some call, said he had to go, kissed me, and left. He said he'd meet me at the coffee shop this morning and he...never showed. I waited two hours," she explained.

"Gay."

Boston paused. "What?"

"Well, I mean. It's an option," she told her, shrugging.

Boston rolled her eyes. "I know I shouldn't be too upset. But I am. I...let my stupid guard down. A little. And I let myself think he liked me and then he blew me off." She sighed. I'm a fool."

"You're not a fool," she said. "Look. Maybe there were extenuating circumstances? Maybe his dog died?"

She felt herself smile lightly. "That is horrible to even think about."

"Don't be too upset. Maybe he'll meet you there Monday? Just don't write him off too quick, okay?" she said, patting her best friend's shoulder.

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I just. I'm upset and I don't want to be. And I really don't want to think about it anymore.

Days passed and Boston found herself waiting at the coffee shop every morning.

He never showed.

Weeks passed and she found herself waiting less and less. One day, though, she found herself not waiting at all. She found herself thinking about him less and less. Until she stopped thinking about him at all.


[A/N: Did I ever mention I suck for taking so long? Here's my excuse. I tore all the ligaments and tendons in my left arm, so I've been in a sling and a brace for about three weeks so I couldn't really type. It's not completely healed yet, I still have a few more weeks, but here you go. I know it's not amazing and yes, Jackson will be back in the story. This chapter was the necessary to get him out of the picture so I could bring him back in. I have a plan, I promise. Okay, so. Um. I hope you enjoyed it. I'm on spring break next week so I'm hoping I can get out chapter three. This chapter is for my friend, Felice, who is amazing and honestly kind of reminded me I still had to finish this, haha, so it's for her. Also, go read LAoR's story, because I believe it's still amazing. And um. Have a good week.]