Anonymous prompt: “Jealous MC”
Alternate title: How Many Alternatives To “Frat-Bro” Can Abby Come Up With?
Can you name them all?
“Wanna chill out, maybe?” Zack murmured.
I scowled. “I am the epitome of chill!”
“Oh, yeah,” he snorted. “You’re the chillest person I’ve ever met.”
My scowl deepened, but I didn’t avert my eyes from the eyesore in front of me. The nerve of some people, I swear-
“You have no reason to be jealous, you know?” Zack tried to comfort me.
My heart dropped to my stomach. “You’re right. I have nothing to be jealous about. It’s not like we’re officially exclusive or anything, we’re just having…” I swallowed the pain my own words caused, “…fun.”
“Jordan-”
“I gotta go.” I tried to keep my voice from cracking, but failed. With no small amount of effort, I tore my gaze away from the sleazy dude-bro grinding all over my g…Becca. I slammed my unfinished Old Fashioned on the counter and made a beeline for the exit, bursting out into the fresh night air.
Footsteps followed behind me and I rolled my eyes, plopping down on the curb. Out of my peripherals, I saw Zack sit carefully next to me, but I didn’t acknowledge him. I was content to sit and stew in silence.
Zack gave me a few minutes in my own head before he spoke up. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed. Zack was the only one of our friends who knew about this…thing that Becca and I had going on. He found out by accident; he walked in on us in a particularly compromising position. As scarred as the incident left us, in this moment, I couldn’t help but be glad he knew. I was grateful to have someone to talk to.
“We had a stupid fight,” I grumbled. My head dropped in my hands. “We had a stupid fight and now she’s in there with Mr. Beefy McBiceps and I can’t even fault her for it because we’re not official and…” I trailed off, mumbling unintelligibly into my hands.
Zack rubbed my back soothingly. “What was the fight about?”
I sniffed. “I don’t wanna say.”
“Why not?”
I lifted my head with a groan. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, now I have to know.”
“Fine,” I sniffed again. “It was about pillows.”
He was silent for a moment before he erupted in obnoxious laughter. I pouted until he took the hint and composed himself.
“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled. “It’s just…we’re sitting on a gross curb in front of a club because of pillows?”
I glowered at him. “It’s not just the pillows, Zachary. It’s the principle of the thing!”
“Okay, break it down for me,” He said mock-seriously.
I eyed him suspiciously and huffed. “Okay, look. I don’t mind that we always end up in my room. Really, I don’t! And I love falling asleep with her! It’s just…”
“Just what?” he teased.
“She only lets me sleep with one pillow!” I whined. “It’d be one thing if she was the one using the pillow, or we were in her bed, but no! She always uses me as a pillow! But I can only use one pillow because apparently, she ends up laying at a weird f-ing angle if I’m too propped up! I mean, honestly, who the hell does she think she – stop laughing!”
Zack was bent over at the waist, body convulsing as he laughed silently, tears in his eyes. I slapped his arm and he tried to calm himself down, but a few giggles slipped out as he caught his breath.
“Jordan,” he giggled. “Did you hear yourself just now?”
I groaned. “I told you it was stupid, but I snapped! I need two pillows to sleep, Zack, I just do!”
He sighed and stood, holding his hand out to help me up. “Come on, pillow queen! You’re gonna march back in there right now and get your girl.”
“I am a top!” I exclaimed indignantly, taking his hand and rising from the curb.
“Service top, maybe,” he muttered under his breath. I pretended not to hear him and let him lead me back inside the club.
The noise hit me like a slap to the face in my current state, but I shook it off. With a deep breath, I made my way over to where I’d last seen Becca and her hanger-on. When I didn’t see her there, my throat closed up. Was I too late? Did she go home with Daddy-Douche?
My jaw clenched at the thought as I weaved through the sweaty bodies and into the bathroom. As soon as the door shut behind me, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against it.
“Jordan, there you are!” My eyes snapped open.
“Becca?” I crossed my arms and leaned my hip casually against a sink. I knew I should apologize for our fight (if you could really even call it that), but I couldn’t get the image of her grinding with the Douche-canoe out of my head. “Where’s your man candy?”
Her head tilted in confusion and her hands froze where they were fixing her makeup. “My what?”
I scoffed even as my brain yelled at my mouth to shut up. “You seemed pretty cozy out there, that’s all.”
A sly grin grew on her face and she sashayed around me, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I huffed and tried to shake her off, but she just tightened her grip and rested her chin on my shoulder.
“Jordan, are you jealous?” Her voice was a little too teasing for my taste.
It took all my willpower not to melt against her. “Of course not. Why would I possibly be jealous about some baby-man grinding on your ass? That would be silly!”
I felt more than heard her giggle. “It would be silly.” I rolled my eyes and she squeezed my waist. “Baby, you were refusing to dance with me. You were too busy being mad about fucking pillows. What was I supposed to do, pout in the corner all night?”
“Didn’t have to grind with some meathead,” I mumbled halfheartedly.
She sensed my resolve crumbling and kissed up and down my neck. “You’re cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” I bit my lip. “You think I wanted to dance with that walking meat sack?”
I turned in her arms angrily. “You made me jealous on purpose?”
She smirked, resting her brow on mine. “So, you admit you’re jealous?”
I pouted. “Stop being mean.”
“Stop being mad at me about pillows,” she countered.
“Fine,” I grumbled. “But you’re coming home with me.”
She laughed lightly, kissing my nose. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
