Standing in front of the sink and mirror, Jason turned on the hot water and let his hands just rest beneath it. He looked up, staring at the reflection of his eyes, which still seemed to hold the shock from earlier that night. After several more moments in his pensive state, he splashed water onto his face, rubbing his cheeks, baby-fine blond strands catching the droplets as well.
Finally, with a reproachful shake of his head to his reflection, Jason roughly towelled off his face and began to walk back to the bedroom, quickly discarding his red vinyl shirt on the couch as he passed it. He could clean up in the morning; now he just wanted sleep, preferably dreamless, and an escape from the memories the night had brought.
He pulled off the tight black leather pants that were encasing his lean legs, quickly scurrying under thin sheets. He turned on his side quickly, eyes slamming shut as his head hit the pillow, as if to convince his body to find sleep, and quickly.
***
Jason groaned loudly, rolling this way and that on the bed, curling a pillow over his ears. "Go 'way…" he muttered, moving as close to the wall as he could, as if the added distance between himself and the shrill ringing invading what had been an almost peaceful slumber would make it go away faster.
After four painfully long rings that he refused to acknowledge, the answering machine picked up. Jason rolled onto his back, unhappily awake. He listened as the message began at a thankfully lower pitch, though still heard by the werewolf's acute ears.
"Jase?..." there was an audible pause as the man on the other end seemed to wait, likely for Jason to pick up. "Jase, c'mon, I know you're there. Pick up, please?" the deep voice sounded rather passive, pleading, while Jason ignored it as best he could, hands propping his head up on the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, chewing his lip softly at the same time, drifting into an all too familiar state.
***
"Jase…" the voice on the answering machine was loud and excited. "Jase, I know you're there, it's barely morning!-"
"-Got that right…" Jason interjected, rolling over once again in his too-small bed, only accomplishing to further tangle his short legs in the sheets.
"Jason, come on!! I got it!! I got my letter from Berkley!! Pick up!!" Jason threw a pillow over his ears as if to dull the noise. All he could feel was exhaustion attacking his every muscle, willing him back to sleep. It had been a late night and it was now very much too early.
"God Jason, get your lazy slacking ass out of bed and answer this phone! I'm trying to tell you that I got into Berkley! Sleeping off your hangover can wait, can't it?" she paused, as if waiting to see whether or not Jason would agree with her logic. When she started speaking again, her voice sounded like it contained a permanent sigh.
"Okay Jason, since you're too cool to even get out of bed and congratulate me on a job well done and all the rest of that corny shit, well, I guess I'll have to deal won't I? Whatever." The word was bitingly harsh for someone as excited as Kristina was.
"If you haven't fallen back asleep yet, since I know this message now must seem like a horrendous, never-ending chore…" Jason rolled towards the phone, now half asleep again.
"…'re you done yet…?" he murmured incoherently, tucking the sheets back up around his torso again.
"…We're all going out tonight to celebrate. Yeah, me, I'm going out again! I figure I could use the reward and all that crap, you know? Stephen's already told me that he's coming, and he'll probably bring Greg. There will be more people there too…but I'd really like it if you came. Okay? I'll let you get back to sleep now…sorry to bother you." With that, Kristina hung the phone up quickly.
Jason groaned at the throbbing in his head, as he slammed his head back down onto the pillows. With his legs curled up towards the rest of his body like a little ball, he slowly drifted back into the land of sleep.
He awoke again several hours later, the sun now high in the sky. Clambering out of bed, he threw a pair of fading jeans over his non-existent hips and trodded down the small staircase that divided his mother's tiny semi-detached.
"Mornin' mum…" he mumbled, stumbling tiredly by her to the kitchen. He searched through the cupboards and fridge, settling on a box of Count Chocula and milk. The tall woman glared daggers at him.
"Ever think of wearing pants that fit, Jason? Or maybe pulling on a shirt to go with them?" She seemed to think a moment. "Although with that stubble on your face and your hair falling this way and that, I think maybe one of those tight undershirts is more your style." She smacked the back of his head lightly. "Would it kill you to shave and get a haircut? You look dreadful! Good thing I don't have to take you out with me anymore." She sighed and went back to dusting the living room.
Jason gave her a glare of his own and poured the sugar sweet cereal into his bowl, talking only after he had taken a few bites. "'Least I don't look like I'm waiting for the man of my dreams to come and sweep me off my feet while I dust…" he muttered under his breath, glaring in his mother's direction.
"Ma! I just woke up, all right? Geez, you would have me looking like some politician or preppy kid the second I step out of bed. You ever think that's not me?" Her head poked out from the living room.
"Maybe if you were like that, you'd be having a little more success! Like that Dellaporte girl you know - plain girl, could definitely use some remedial fashion and beauty tips - but at least she's got a brain on her." She nodded her head at her own statement. "Why couldn't you be more like her, getting into Berkley? Oh, I listened to your messages." She added as an afterthought. "Girl sounded overly giddy. I know it's a big deal, but squealing on someone's answering machine is just not proper."
Jason grimaced and growled into his cereal, biting back many of the words he wanted to spew at his mother. He counted to ten while grinding the chocolate puffs to paste, swallowed, and finally looked over at his mom in the doorway.
"I'll get into U of Missouri, all right? It's in the bag. 'Kay mum? Sorry I'm not perfect like Kristina or anything. Try to survive the day knowing it." He continued to talk while he put away his cereal and dishes, before clumping up the stairs, heading back to his room."
"Where are you going?" she yelled up the stairs, waving a duster like a deadly weapon.
"I'm having a shower, getting dressed, and going OUT, okay?" he yelled back down, already heading towards the bathroom. "Forgive me if I don't want to stay here all day and listen to how crappy an education I'll be getting compared to Kris, 'kay?" He closed the bathroom door, although his mother's voice still reverberated through it.
"Phone that girl back and congratulate her Jason!" she screamed, before he sunk his head under the hot water.
"Oh. Yeah."
He muttered softly.