Chapter 1

Used to Be

“We haven’t had sex in like…two weeks. And frankly, I don’t think it’s fair. ‘Cause when I said it looked like she had gained a few pounds, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just making conversation. We’ve run out of things to talk about kind of. Like an old married couple. I mean, sure, there were probably better things I could’ve said, but… I’m a guy. I deserve a break, right?”

Brooke looked at me, shook her head, and looked back down at her book. “Jackson. You’ve been with Delilah for seven months. You’re not nearly an old married couple. Make an effort. And instead of insulting her, try giving her a compliment.”

A compliment. Not a bad idea. Delilah was this used-to-be fabulous girl that I’d stolen from my kid brother. Things had moved quickly, and we were sharing an apartment. She was a junior in high school now, and her social life had taken over. I liked all her friends and everything, but she was hardly ever home and I felt neglected. So maybe I’d told her she was gaining weight out of spite—just a little. She’d been drinking a lot, though, and a beer belly was making its presence known. Delilah Jane Summers, the girl who had helped me quit drinking, was turning into an alcoholic.

“Have you noticed how much she’s changed though? I mean, I’m in college and I don’t party half as much as she does.”

“Well, you don’t drink,” Brooke reminded me.

I sighed heavily. “She’s cheating on me.”

“Oh come on! Jackson, honestly!”

“No, I’m serious.” I ran a hand through my hair and sighed heavily. “I should’ve known. If she cheated once, she’d have no problem doing it again.”

“Then why haven’t you cheated? You’ve cheated on every girl you’ve ever been with.”

“Not on Lila! I love her. That’s why I haven’t cheated on her. I fucking love her. My mom and dad love her, my grandma loves her. Grandma doesn’t even love me. She said if I screwed this up, she was cutting ‘my ass’ out of the will. She’s the perfect girlfriend…or at least she was.”

“I think you’re being a drama queen,” she said simply.

“King,” I corrected. “And I’m not. When’s the last time you even spoke to her?”

“Two days ago. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to me, Jackson. She seemed happy.”

“Well, you’re my best friend,” I reasoned. “It’s not like she’d be like ‘oh, by the way, fucked this really hot guy last night. Don’t tell Jackson, he-he-he.’”

“First of all, that’s not how she laughs. Second, you’re paranoid.”

“She could be doing drugs… maybe she’s a stripper. She’s been carrying a lot of one dollar bills lately.”

“Shut up and study,” she said, hitting me lightly upside the head. “My roommates will be home soon and they’ll try to molest you again. Then you’ll get nothing done.”

I opened my book and pretended to read. I just couldn’t focus on anything other than Delilah. Lately she’d just been so… off. It used to be she’d cry every time I went to class—even though we were only going to be apart for a few hours. Now I was lucky to see her before I went to sleep. She was always out late, even on school nights. Sure, I sound like a parent, but she did need her sleep. Her grades were terrible. I missed the sweet, smart girl who used to care about things like straight A’s and making our relationship perfect. She didn’t even show up to dinner at my parents’ house anymore. It hurt my mother more than it hurt me. They’d been really close before Delilah had started becoming…whatever it was she was becoming. It wasn’t just me she was distancing herself from; it was everyone that was a part of me. Sometimes I felt like the only reason we were together was so that she could keep the apartment and avoid going back to her folks.

Her parents were really shitty people, and I didn’t want her to ever have to go back. Then again, I didn’t want my parents paying the rent for a girl who didn’t give a shit about me, much less them. I didn’t like the feeling of being used. I just wanted the girl I loved back—because the girl living in my apartment wasn’t her. She’d changed overnight, it seemed. One day she was perfectly normal, then she went to a party with Ellie and it became a trend. First one a week, then two, three… now there were too many to count. Some days I didn’t even bother to come home. I spent a lot of my nights crashing at my buddy’s apartment. What was the point of coming home to an empty apartment that reeked of booze and puke from the morning’s hangover? Maybe I’d just stay in St. Louis—my wallet would thank me with the price of gas constantly rising.

“Jackson,” Brooke said, snapping me back to reality. “I know you’re not really studying. Your eyes glazed over like five minutes ago. You’re worrying about Delilah.”

“How can I not? Losing her scares the hell out of me… but deep down… I know she’s already gone.”

“Don’t talk like that. Maybe it’s not all her fault. I mean, you can kind of shut people out without noticing it, Jack. Try… being vulnerable. Just a little. I know that’s hard for you, but maybe she just doesn’t realize how neglected you feel.”

Brooke was brilliant when it came to the inner-workings of people’s minds. She was majoring in child psychology; and when my kids were all screwed up, there was no one I would trust more to get inside their heads. On top of that, she was good with relationships. Hunter, her boyfriend, was going to a community college nearby. He had the money to get into Washington University, he just didn’t have the brains. Anyway, they were still going strong and although they weren’t living together were very close. I, on the other hand, lived in the same apartment with my girlfriend but felt like we were living on separate planets.

“Call her,” she insisted. “Let her know that you’re coming home and you’d like to spend some time with her.”

I sighed heavily and obeyed. Delilah picked up on the third ring.

“Yeah?”

“Hey cupcake,” I said sweetly. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just got home.”

“Well, I’m going to be on my way here in a few minutes. Listen, tonight I’d really like to—”

“Ellie and I were thinking about going—”

“To a party,” I finished, disheartened.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Because that’s all you do anymore,” I snapped. “Look, I really wasn’t calling you fat, honest to God. Is that what your mad about?”

“I’m not mad about anything,” she told me. “I’m just having a good time. There’s nothing wrong with that, Jackson.”

“Well… I’ll see you when I get home, I guess. Or not. Whatever.”

I hung up and glared at Brooke. “You were wrong.”

“I guess she didn’t go for the whole feeling neglected thing?”

“Well, considering I hardly got to speak to her… guess not. I guess I ought to head home. Maybe I can catch her before she runs off. It’s Friday, after all, and she won’t be home until… who knows?”

Brooke gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. “It’ll be okay, Jackson. It’s probably just a phase. I mean, think about how you acted when you were a junior.”

It had been fun. Drinking and popping whatever pills were lying around. Shooting up random substances and waking up with random girls. A real rock star type of life in a small town where everyone got to hear about your endeavors. Where people wished they had the balls to get so shit faced they forgot to breathe every single night… but the fun wasn’t what stuck with me now… it was all the regrets I had. I’d hurt people. I’d hurt myself, my reputation, the reputation of my family… So maybe I’d be a legend forever in high school… but there were way better things to be remembered for. Delilah had helped me to see that, and now she was going down the same road.

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

When I got home, I found Delilah in the bedroom, putting on her make up. She was wearing a low-cut red top and tight skinny jeans. Her dark hair had been straightened perfectly. I took a moment to admire her and then wrapped my arms around her waist. I nuzzled her neck and gave her a good squeeze.

“Jackson! You made me smudge my eyeliner!” She complained.

I pulled away and went to sit on the bed. “Delilah? What’s happening to us?” I rested my chin in my hand and drew in a deep breath. What in the fuck was happening to her?

“What do you mean?” she asked simply.

“I mean… I hardly ever see you. I miss you, cupcake.”

“We sleep in the same bed, for God’s sake. You see me plenty.”

“I think you mean that you pass out in the same bed I sleep in,” I muttered dryly. “Is it to much to ask to see you when you’re coherent at least one night a week?”

She rolled her eyes at me, a gesture I saw in the mirror since her back was still to me.

“Do you remember when you helped me quit drinking? I hated it at first. I thought that I was just gonna be the worthless, boring blob. Because I didn’t know how to have fun with liquor. Then I realized that all I needed was someone I loved to have a good time. And I’m so grateful now, because I’m a better person. But it makes me think that you were just a hypocritical bitch in hiding all that time… because you’re doing the same things that I did and acting like there’s not a damned thing wrong with it.”

“I’m not hurting anyone.”

“You’re hurting me! Don’t you get it?” I shouted at her. “Don’t you fucking get it!? I mean, Delilah, you’re killing me! You used to be so… right for me. You helped me get through the worst part of my life. And I felt so lucky to have you in my life. Now I just feel like you’re a blow up doll or something. You’re only good to look at.”

“You’re an ass,” she cried. “You’re using—”

“Oh don’t you fucking start,” I said, my voice a low, dangerous whisper. “Don’t you fucking start talking about using people. Because you are the queen, Delilah Jane. My parents, who you completely ignore now, are putting a roof over your head because they think you love me. Because I don’t have the heart to tell them what a bitch you’ve become. You know what hurts the most!? I’m here spilling my guts to you, telling you exactly how I feel, and you won’t even look away from the goddamned mirror! That’s how self-obsessed you’ve become. Your eyeliner is more important than your boyfriend! If you don’t see anything wrong with the way you’re acting… then maybe that’s what’s wrong with us.”

I got off the bed, my entire body shaking with rage. My heart was so broken that it felt like someone had plunged a knife into my chest, wiggled it around, and then shoved it in once more for good measure. This time no one could tell me I was being dramatic. I was truly and totally devastated. I made it to the couch before I collapsed onto my belly and cried. After a moment, I felt Delilah sit on the edge of the couch. I didn’t look up at her. I tried to suck it up so that she didn’t think I was a pussy, but it was hard. Sure, we’d fought before, but never like this. It had never felt so… over.

“Jack…” she began, stroking my hair lightly. “I’ll change my shirt and we can go to your mom’s for dinner tonight if you’d like.”

I wiped my eyes and rolled onto my back so that I could meet her eyes.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t need to go to this party… but I do need to spend a little more time with you.”

I didn’t know if I should forgive her. Perhaps the only reason she seemed apologetic is because she knew I wasn’t putting up with her shit anymore. I appreciated the effort, but Saturday was another chance for her to get drunk off her ass… and I didn’t doubt that she would.

“Are we…breaking up?” she asked when I was silent for a while.

“No,” I told her. “We’re not. But… Delilah, going to dinner with me just this once isn’t going to make things okay. You’ve got to make more of an effort. We’re not breaking up tonight, but as for tomorrow? I can’t see the future.”

So I know that some of you didn't want a sequel... but I just felt like I couldn't live without some Jack and Lila drama in my life. There's no promises that this story will be here to stay, it depends on the feedback from you all... because I don't wanna ruin the characters for you. They are both obviously very different from who they were in Sleeping Around on Sam... so maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. Lemme know.