10. The Dog Tag

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"Get up," a voice says.

I groan. I think it was Sunday.

Holy shit it was Sunday.

I sit upright in bed and looked at the time.

1:34.

I slept in for a while. I'd wake up for a few hours and repeat the process.

Gideon was shaking me.

I blinked at him.

"Get out," I deadpan.

He sighs. "You haven't got out of bed for a week. Ms. Birchwood is giving you excuses because of what happened, but you have got to get up."

He's right. It's been a week and two days since my mother's passing and I've been wasting away in my room. He tried to give me breakfast every morning, but I just stared at him.

Some mornings I threw up.

But Gideon forced me to eat.

"You are going to get your ass out of bed, JJ, even if it is the last thing I do." Did Gideon just cuss?

I set my jaw. There was no point in getting out.

"Do you want to be like your mother?!" He yells at me, he's in my face trying to get me to see reason.

My eyes cut to his, glaring and nostrils flaring.

"Because you're acting just like her, JJ," he says to me. "Your father told me what she was like. You said she cooked and cleaned and was a housewife? No. She was a ghost. She didn't move."

I swallow. "So now you're talking to my father now?" I ask dryly.

He straightens, hands fisting his hair, clenching his jaw in frustration. He backs away.

"Get up," he repeats.

I do nothing of the sort.

He lets go of his hair, making his way forward and back to me, before he's grabbing both sides of my face and kissing me.

It's not soft, or sweet or tender, it was firm and demanding and forceful.

I do nothing one second, the other I'm shoving him away and slapping him. "You have no right to kiss me!" I yell at him, wiping at my mouth.

He backs way, blushing and smiling, even if the red mark of my fingers were forming on his face. "Come on, yell some more."

"You are an asshole!" I explode, standing and putting my fists in his chest. My head is flaring with anger. "One second you treat me like a fucking child that can't get her own breakfast, the next you're telling me to get up, and another you're nice to me, so make up your goddamn mind, Gideon!"

His smile widens. "Keep going. Let it out."

"You're an asshole mainly because you're not one at all! Because you are the only one making an effort in the morning. You are the only one who gives a shit about me right now. You are the only one who is trying!" I scream at him, jabbing a finger into his right pec. I feel fresh tears stream down my face. Full of emotion and gratefulness.

"She took her life," I say quietly, "because I wasn't enough for her. My father wasn't enough for her." I gulp.

"Get angry, JJ," he says.

"I am fucking angry! I'm angry that you think that I'm worth trying for when she wouldn't try for me!" I say. I'm panting from how much I'm rambling. "Most of all I'm angry because she was nothing without BH and neither am I. You want to know why I act out? You want to know why I hate heroes?!" I yell at him. "Well here you go!" I yank off my dog tag necklace, shoving it into his chest.

He stumbles back slightly, hand flying to the necklace.

"ASHTON, BEAU HUNTER J.," Gideon reads, holding it in his hands gently. "Who's is this?"

"It wasn't my cousin who died that made my mom quit her job and become nothing," I whisper quietly, avoiding his eyes even though I know they searched mine. "It was my brother." I lie to a lot of people about my brother. Not many people know he died. "He died when I was thirteen. Almost fourteen. He died four years ago today. He was only in the army for a few months. And he died for his country." I finally look in his wide, broken blue eyes. "He died for people he didn't even know and I hate it. Call me selfish, but I hated it. He got his head blown off for a country that was still going to fight. At all times. They never stop fighting, so what's the point of going on?"

We're both silent for moment.

"I'm sorry," he says lowly. "And I'm sorry I kissed you. I just... I needed you to have a reaction to something besides a dead stare." He runs his hands through his hair. "Don't do this," he pleases quietly. "Don't become a ghost, JJ."

I was grateful he wasn't calling me Jenny. I knew he heard my dad and I in the hallway.

"Why?" I ask. "So you can get into your precious school?"

He shakes his head. "JJ. I need—" he stops himself. "Just don't."

I swallow once before nodding.

"Thank you," I say slowly to him.

He gives me a half smile before hugging me tightly.

I take a shaky breath before hugging him back.

"Take a shower," he mumbles on the top of my head. "You stink."

I can't help but laugh at that.
••••••••

After taking the much needed shower he suggested, I padded into the living room, my towel shaking my hair dry. I threw it in the laundry bin as I see Gideon, popcorn bowl in his lap, remote outstretched.

He was waiting for me.

I adjust my long sleeve shirt and shorts before sitting next to him and taking the remote.

I scrolled Netflix silently.

"I'm still waiting for that book series you promised," he reminds me.

I smile a bit. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow you will read it," I assure him, picking a movie finally.

"No," he groans. "I played the game," He says when he sees the tile of the movie I picked.

CLUE.

"But you haven't watched the movie," I object. "It's better than the game!"

He rolls his eyes.

"It's good," I say, shooting him a glare. "Don't give me the remote if you don't want me to choose what I want."

"If you're going to watch old movies," he tells me, "watch some of the classics. Like Psycho."

"I stopped watching that like thirty minutes in," I say, stuffing my mouth full of popcorn.

"It gets good literally right after that," he objects.

I roll my eyes. "You watch this, and I'll watch your precious Psycho movie."

"Fine," he says. "But, we should this once a week."

I raise an eyebrow. "You want to spend time with me?" I deadpan.

He shrugs.

"And if I don't want to spend time with you?"

"Do you?"

"Of course not," I say with a grin. "But I will."

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