Page 42 of What If It Was Us
Jackson didn’t answer me. Instead, he stormed past me and shoved Brian in the shoulder as he was taking a drink, causing him to stumble and hit his tooth on the lip of the bottle.
“What the fuck, man?” Brian said as he covered his mouth.
“You hurt Addie,” Jackson said, his fists clenched at his sides.
Brian’s eyes flicked toward me. “I was playing the game; it’s not that serious.”
“You’re right, it’s not that serious. So, you didn’t have to push her down,” Jackson quipped.
Brian shrugged a shoulder like he couldn’t care less. “Okay, and she’s standing. She’s fine.”
“That’s not the point,” Jackson argued. “Just give her one fucking sip of the vodka. You’re being a dick.”
Everyone in the basement was watching the interaction. I didn’t want Jackson to defend my honor—mostly because he had the same look in his eye that he’d had when he fought Peter. The last thingwe needed was a fight with some kid we had just met, especially over something as stupid as spoons.
“Everything is good,” I said nervously. “Let’s go, Jackson. It’s almost time to go anyways.”
Jackson turned around and looked at me like he agreed. Brian dropped his defenses—then Jackson stunned us all by turning around and punching Brian directly in the nose.
I gasped and covered my own face while Brian let out a yelp. Everyone else’s jaws dropped.
“Don’t touch her again,” Jackson said before turning around and running up the stairs. I whipped around just as fast, running up after him.
When we made it to the top of the stairs, he grabbed my arm, and we slithered through the throngs of people until he found the front door and we slipped outside into the December air.
Jackson started laughing, putting a hand over his abdomen as he hunched over.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, breathless from our run.
Jackson shook his head, standing up straight and catching his breath. “That guy was so fucking annoying. He’s not gonna do anything about it; his parents would find out about the alcohol and kill him. My uncle’s side of the family is way stricter than mine.” Jackson ran his hands through his hair, leaving them clasped around the back of his neck.
I stared at him, still in disbelief over what he just did.
“Do I thank you?” I asked with a small chuckle.
“If I’m being honest, that was more about me than you. I wanted to deck him from the moment he opened his mouth.”
I shook my head. “You’re a lunatic. Don’t make that a habit.”
His hands dropped from his neck. “Let’s take a walk. I need to sober up a little before we find my parents.”
We walked down the block, finding a playground and sitting on the swings. Jackson was trying to see how high he could swing, while I just pushed myself back and forth lightly with my foot on the ground.
“So, what bothered you so much about Brian that you wanted to, in your words, ‘deck him from the moment he opened his mouth’?”
Jackson slowed himself down on the swing, turning to face me. “He was such a creep—didn’t you notice the way he was staring at you?”
I reared my head back, suppressing a laugh. “I don’t think he was staring at me as much as he was staring at that bottle of vodka.”
Jackson scoffed. “Trust me, he was trying to undress you with his eyes.”
“Oh, was he?” I joked. “And how would you know that?”
Jackson looked away. I couldn’t tell why he was being so weird. “I heard him say something to one of the guys when you went to the bathroom.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What’d he say?”
Jackson stood up from the swing, motioning for me to follow. “It doesn’t matter; he got what he deserved.”
