"Jasmine, it's so good to hear your voice."

"Yeah, yours too," I replied. It's been a couple of years since I talked to Johnson. He moved to the other side of town and we kind of lost touch. Is he calling me up because of the letter? Because that wouldn't even be possible because the letter was addressed to his old home.

"So the other day, I received some letter in the mail. From you.

It was sent to my old home address, but I guess those people at the house forwarded to me.

The letter said that you liked me."

"Yeah," I acknowledged. What was I going to do? Deny it? I had to own up to my actions or rather lack of actions since I didn't really send them. "It's true. I did like you." The conversation was tense.

"So how are you?" he asked.

"I'm good. How about you?" the only thing we could do is small talk. This is awkward enough.

"I'm good. Actually I have boyfriend. He's the sweetest and—"

"That's great, Johnson," I interrupted. I didn't need to know how great he was doing when I'm facing the repercussions of these letters. One, of which, I'm living through right now, being in a cabin with Watson. "I'm actually really busy right now, so maybe I'll call you back later? Great, bye," I lied and hung up the phone. I wasn't busy. I'm not going to call him back later. I crawled up into the couch with my knees to my face. I'll just wait it out until Watson came back.

It must've been awhile, because when Watson came back to the cabin, he dropped the groceries and hurried to the couch where I was sitting.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.

"He called."

"Who called? Your dad? July? Olive?"

"Johnson. He called and he's doing a hundred and ten percent better without me," I replied coldly.

"Jas," he softly said touching my shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"No… but I will be," I let out a sigh, "So what did you get from the store?"

"The necessities. We don't have to cook if you're not feeling up for it, I got a big bag of popcorn, extra butter just the way you like it," he smiled.

I got off the couch and looked through the bags, "You know me too well Watson. Why the fuck did you buy beer?" I lifted the six-pack of Bud Lite out of the bag, "And how did you even purchase it?"

"Okay, just hear me out. I have a reasonable explanation."

"I'm listening."

"The guy at the store didn't check for ID, so technically I'm not at fault. The beer wasn't for you to get mistakenly drunk and for me to take advantage of you. I bought it for absolute necessary means."

I guess I understand where Watson is coming from and honestly I didn't care how he got it, because it's exactly what I needed right now, "I going to break one open," I stated.

Watson got off the couch, went over me and lowered the beers down, "What are you doing?" he whispered in my ear. He was close. Too close. Again.

"Just…" I said hesitantly and breathlessly, Watson needed to stop doing this to me. Okay, let me compose myself before responding. Because right now, I want to rip Watson's shirt off and if I do that, mama mia.

After clearing my throat, "You told me to have fun this weekend. And I am," holding up the pack of beers, "This is how I am going to have fun. Now if you know what's best for me, you'll let me do it."

"Actually, I do know what's best for you. You don't cope like this. I cope like this. You remember what happened last time you got wasted. I want to respect your dad's rules."

I almost have tears in my eyes. Not because of how sweet Watson was, because of this situation, the letters, Johnson especially. "You don't understand," I murmured.

"I don't understand what?" he asked softly.

"That I don't want to remember this night!" I bursted. Every part of me wanted this night out of my head. Thinking about it made me furious. I wanted happiness, joy, ecstasy.

"Jasmine," he whispered, "This isn't you. There's a better way to cope with this."

I was done with Watson. He was being the good cop and honestly he was being a party pooper.

"Well, right now, I want to cope with this," I said as I broke the pack, took one out, opened it and took a huge gulp. The burn. It was a good burn. "It's not too late to join me!" I giggled raising my bottle. Damn, my alcohol tolerance is low because I was tipsy already.

Watson hesitated, but I know he couldn't resist a good drink. "Ah, fuck it. Who am I to tell you what to do?" he questioned breaking out the second bottle.

We both sat on the couch drinking our bottles. Watson finished his first bottle pretty quick and went to get another one. I attempted to get up, wobbling, "Hey, why don't we take this to the bedroom?" I whispered behind his ear.

He must've agreed because the next thing I knew, he threw me in his bed, and with one swift movement he took off his shirt. Even drunk me was googly eyes at him.


oh my! What do you think is going to happen next? Let me know your thoughts :)