254766

'Cause men tend to buy something cheaper as long as its functional

2011-12-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

I think one of the primary differences between men and women is that, if a man strikes out with the object of his affections, he will bang her uglier friend and brag about still getting some. A woman would never bang the ugly friend, and if she did she'd keep her mouth shut.

I want to, somehow, make the connection between this and how men tend to like shopping less than women do?

Ps this has nothing to do with me personally, its just something I've noticed.

We Don't Like July 8 Bitches

2011-12-14T14:10:00.000-08:00

The Goal: fall in love.

The Problem: love makes bitches crazy.

The Solution: Find girl who is already a little crazy, enjoy the wild ride.

"I think it’s for the best. Gabriel probably would've led you down some dark paths," Gavin tells Samantha consolingly.Gabriel left as soon as he found out Samantha was pregnant. Samantha is the type of girl who won't let a guy pay for a meal.

"Yeah, I'm gonna walk down them anyway," Samantha replies, not looking at him. She’s preoccupied tying the laces of her vinyl boots. She will not take comfort. She is still too mad

Gavin stares at the thin stiletto heels of Samantha’s boots against the aging concrete of the parking lot. They look structurally unsound. One step too hard and surely, they’ll break. Gavin will watch her fall.

Gavin will try to help her laugh about it later, when the injuries have healed and she feels attractive again.

Samantha has always martyred herself for fashion. Samantha still wears stilettos eight months into her pregnancy.

You know what happens next. Her designer shoe breaks. She falls. She wakes up from morphine dreams in a hospital.

Gavin picks her up. He thinks Samantha is just pretending she isn’t relieved. Gavin says he’ll be there for her, but what he means is he’ll have sex with her. He thinks it's about time she gives a nice guy a chance.

Samantha thinks that the death of her unborn child is a bad occasion for Gavin to make his move. They hook up anyways. Samantha gets pissed off when it turns out it doesn’t make her feel better about anything.

Writers Block Is Kind Of A Bitch

2011-12-13T12:33:00.000-08:00

SID | 御手紙 (The Letter) (translation from Gurakko)
I decided to cut my hair　　Because the position at your side　　Has been vacated
But fretted over whether I should paint my lips red　　For I don't know you

With what little ability I have and all my might　　I try to speak of my pining for you
On a cleared dawn　　Ceaseless　　Thoughts　　Shall see daybreak

To a sinful you, I offer this　　The reason I was born
I only pray for this　　Shapeless prose　　To please, please convey well

I decided it has to be today particularly because　　The sky　　Is so blue

My trembling legs　　Quietly obstruct me　　When your voice lilts
The time has come　　What's left after that is to　　Step　　Beyond the door

I should be the one, more than any of　　The many who have served you in bygone days
If you'd deign to keep me at your side, with some relief　　I'll always keep　　My appearance　　The way you fancy

To a sinful you, I offer this　　The reason I was born
I only pray for this　　Shapeless prose　　To please, please convey well

I should be the one, more than any of　　The many who have served you in bygone days
If you'd deign to keep me at your side, with some relief　　I'll always keep　　My appearance　　The way you fancy

Serious Life Changing Decision

2011-12-09T14:35:00.000-08:00

My roots have come in to the point where my hair looks bad. What should I do with the color?

2011-12-07T15:05:00.000-08:00

See you all at Deck The Hall Ball. I'll be the one looking HOT AS FUCK!!

Once Upon A Time I Drew A Picture of Stick Figure You and Stick Figure Me Holding Hands and Weapons

2011-12-04T13:50:00.001-08:00

Sometimes its hard to be neutral, sometimes its hard not to be. It's a fine line between trying not to let your hopes up and squashing those hopes entirely.

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Le Ciel

2011-12-03T15:58:00.000-08:00

Defined above: my aesthetic taste for romance

Bear on my board

2011-12-01T12:58:00.001-08:00

I named it Universe

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You said Most Women Killers Murder Their Husbands With Poison, But I said I Bet Most Kill Them With Kindness

2011-11-28T22:52:00.001-08:00

You’d rather give all you have; it’s hard to reconcile the you who are too cold and the you who are hotly obsessive. The you who feels a comfortable zen, and the you who yearns.

You can tell yourself that if you don’t get your hopes up, you won’t be disappointed. That way, it’s your own fault. You’re stronger than them, you tell yourself, when the only way they impact you is how you let them. You can hammer nails in your hand muttering all you have is kindness, all you have is

understanding.

And you can tell yourself, hissing through your teeth at each martyred blow, don’t hurt. It’s not worth it to hurt when you have the power not to. You can be impervious.

Maybe, girl, it’s that you’ve fallen for too many artists: guys named after saints, angels, or Japanese war kings. Guys who take you to the edge of the sea, but who don’t

take you into the depths.

Ones who say they'll craft you wings and teach you to fly, but who don't

rather, they hand you the hammer and nails.

Beau Mirchoff

2011-11-26T11:14:00.000-08:00

I want to marry Beau Mirchoff. Or just beat off to pictures of him for the rest of my life.

oh yes oh yes oh yes

ROLLIN

2011-11-23T23:49:00.000-08:00

Since its one of the important plot pieces in the novel, I ended up drawing a lot of pictures involving Avery and heroin. Most of them were just doodles to get my thoughts flowing. But, as I recently reinstalled photoshop onto my newest laptop, I've had to play around!

The pieces involving Avery and heroin give me a lot of creativity to play around with color and layer effects and sometimes that's really all I want to play around with.

Also, since I'm too lazy to install the scanner I have, most of my drawings are uploaded by taking photos on my phone. This kills a lot of the quality and detail of the work. Somehow the pieces involving Avery and his heroin use all were captured well enough that I could play around.

yeah it looked way better about 20 layers before this but I decided to roll with it

All of this information has a permanent spot over there where it says "Soap Writes A Novel"

2011-11-22T16:15:00.001-08:00

AS ALWAYS, FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED :)

Excerpts from chapters
Though, none of it is set in stone

Zero- In which Jason jumps off the balcony of the apartment complex he and Avery live at.

One- In which Jason’s bipolarity is diagnosed by his psychiatrist and begins to be medicated.

Two - In which relatively normal junior high school stuff happens around Jason’s therapy sessions

Three - In which Riot and Avery and Jason are just kicking it.

Four, Five- In which we really get a sense of the dynamic and the history between the main characters. Especially the conflict between Riot and Jason.

Six-In which Riot and Avery have a good time at a school dance, a few days after which Riot and Avery have awkward sex for the first time. Subsequent times are better.

Seven- In which Riot and Jason get into a pretty gnarly fight, inspiring Jason to take a crap ton of pills pills pills.

Eight- In which Avery and Riot have a tense conversation in the hospital waiting room

Nine- In which Avery and Riot talk to Jason during his mandatory hospital stay. Avery is friendly, kind, and helpful and Riot doesn't know how to be comforting.

Ten-In which Jason starts a more comprehensive series of medication.

Eleven- In which Jason graduates from Junior high (they're all 1 year apart, Avery is the oldest and Riot is the youngest)

Twelve- In which Avery learns that his father’s business is transferring his father to New York and Avery has to move with him (Avery is sixteen at this point). Jason decides to stop taking his medication.

Thirteen- Jason decides to stop taking his medication and throughout the next few chapters has some horrifying manic episodes and some hectic depressive episodes.

Fourteen- Avery and Riot give each other tattoos. Repeating images of needles is foreshadowing his heroin overdose.

Fifteen A- Riot reflects on the fact that Avery is gone.

Fifteen B- Jason, still unmedicated, and Riot kick it a lot over the summer. Jason, during one of his manic episodes, takes Riot on a joyride. They get in a car accident. Jason is uninjured, but Riot's arm is broken.

Fifteen C- poem. Riot reflects on the manic episode.

Sixteen- In which summer is over, Jason starts high school and Riot enters 9^th grade with neither of her group still with her in classes and whatnot. She feels slightly isolated at her school.

Seventeen- Troubled by his violent tendencies, the loss of Avery, and how he hurt his friend, Jason slits his wrist in a bathtub with Radiohead playing in the background, he bleeds a lot but he doesn't die.

Eighteen- Jason tells Riot about his bathroom incident.

Nineteen- In which we start to get a sense that Avery isn’t adjusting well to life on the east coast, and see that he’s lonely without his woman and his buddy.

Twenty- In which Jason and Riot go to a rave on a boat and have an unexpectedly wonderful time together

Twenty One- Thirty one

In which Jason and Riot become their own irate little unit, sometimes they’re happy and sometimes they hate each other. Avery and Riot’s relationship, in the meantime over the distance, begins to crumble. And, in which, Avery starts to get into heroin. Jason starts having sex with Avery’s cousin, Aiko, who has been their friend for forever. Aiko sleeps around, and Jason is mostly okay with it but sometimes he finds it to be crushing that she won’t date him. He either doesn’t care enough or knows better than to take it personally.

Thirty Two- In which Avery has a very different New Years Eve experience than Riot and Jason do. This would be New Years from 06 to 07 (presumably, I might tinker with the dates later). Avery calls Riot at midnight Seattle time, but Jason tells her to her hurry up so she cuts their conversation short. Avery says “I love you” and she says “Uhuh”, then hangs up.

Thirty Two A- In which Avery dies of a heroin overdose.

Thirty Three- In which Riot and Jason learn about Avery's fatal OD

Thirty Four- In which a package arrives for Riot, from Avery, containing her late Christmas present.
Heart breaking!

Thirty Five - In which this is probably the best piece of prose I have ever, ever written. A+, Alison!

Thirty Six- In which Avery’s father decrees all of Avery’s stuff be passed to Jason and in which Jason decides not to give Riot much of it, even things he knows she would cherish. He gives the majority of the stuff to good will.

Thirty Seven- A month in which Jason and Riot drink a lot and do a lot of drugs. When drunk, Jason holds a match to the back of Riot's hand. He is very angry. She doesn’t quite know how to take it.

Thirty Eight In which Jason shaves Riot's head, and then his own.

Thirty Nine- In which Jason goes through a cycle of substance abuse as a way of trying to be spiritually connected with Avery. In which Jason finishes the third dot on Riot’s neck.

Forty
In which Riot and Jason rescue a disabled kitty together. Jason adores it. Riot has mixed feelings.

Forty One- Riot and Jason have complex feelings of attraction and love for each other. Riot starts to expect them to blossom into a couple. Jason sees it as a betrayal to Avery to even think about Riot in that manner, and develops intense feelings of anger and guilt which he displaces onto Riot by being physically and emotionally abusive.

Forty Two- In which Jason kills their disabled kitty and tells Riot it ran away.

Forty Three- In which Jason decides that a way of personal and spiritual purity is more likely to be helpful in his overall well-being. He stops all drug use and starts to take up martial arts.

Like everything, he takes the idea to the extreme.

Forty Three- In which Jason decides to take the summer to visit Thailand, where he has family to stay with. He starts to learn Muay Thai, thinking that rigorous martial arts training will bring him spiritual wholeness.

Forty Four- In which Jason decides he will stay in Thailand for forever because he feels kind of happy.

Forty Five- In which Jason, no longer kind of happy, decides he will kill himself on Avery’s birthday.

Forty Six- In which Riot receives an email, on what would’ve been Avery’s 18^th birthday, from Jason saying he just swallowed pills pills pills and she will never hear from him again.

Forty Seven- In which Jason wakes up in the hospital, and his Thai family decide it’s time for him to go home.

Forty Eight- In which Jason moves to New York, and starts renting the flat Avery lived in. He starts to attend college studying graphic design but he also takes a few psych classes.

Fiftyish- In which Riot finds out Jason is still alive, confronts him, and he shrugs it off as if it’s not a huge deal.

Fifty Nineish- In which Aiko finds out she is pregnant by a much older married adult, is kicked out of her home by her conservative family, and goes to live with Jason in his apartment. Jason has a lot of worries about helping her raise her kid after what happened with the kitty, but knows he has to come through for her.

Mid Sixty- In which Jason and Riot meet again about a year later in California, while they are both visiting a mutual friend Souya, who has been introduced before but whom I’ve neglected to mention up to this point. Riot and Jason ditch Souya and go have fun alone together.

Sixty One- In which Jason makes sexual advances toward Riot and she responds to them positively. To her, this is right, this is how it should be, this is what everything they’ve been through together has been leading up to.

After they’re finished, Jason is guilt-ridden. He calls her a whore and tells her he was just testing her loyalty. She tells him she’s done with him and not to talk to her anymore.

Sixty Two

In which Riot and Jason part ways

Sixty Three- Riot bitches about Jason

Sixty Four- In which Aiko has a still-birth. She views it as kind of a miracle that she didn’t have to be a mom at seventeen, but Jason is crushed.

Sixty Five -In which Jason, at the prompting of one of his professors, starts to volunteer as a counselor for troubled teens. He and Riot make up arbitrarily and he asks her to move to New York to live with Aiko and him, but she decides not to.

Sixty Six- In which Riot and Jason both feel a fair amount of peace with their lives as such. Riot starts to date a boy named Ryuuichi who likes Japanese music too, but Riot obvious intimacy issues which are unresolved.

Sixty Seven- In which Jason is mostly healthy, and he’s well aware that it is his distance from her that is letting him be okay with himself. Their past prohibits them from being together.

Sixty Eight- In which Riot and Jason really have no more reason to communicate, so they slowly fade out of each other’s lives.

As people do.

One layer of the novel is looking at mental illnesses from the view of the people who love the mentally ill person, how it impacts the lives of those around the person who suffers from a mental illness.

Essentially for the first half of the book, you're looking at a young couple with great chemistry who are very much in love and the way they come together to help out their best friend who is severely mentally unwell. This whole time you're expecting a tragedy when Jason dies, you're trying to see how Avery and Riot will save him or not save him and how they'll grow together or grow apart because of it. BUT! Then Avery moves away and Riot and Jason are left together. AND THEN! Avery suffers his own fatality. It's ironic.

At that point it begins to SUBTLY detail the course of abusive relationships leading to the message to women being sometimes the best thing to do is sever. We can learn this through seeing how much healthier and happier both Jason and Riot are at the very end when they're apart. The course of this goes that things are strained when Avery leaves but when Avery suffers his OD, the romance literally dies and Riot is left with Jason. This is a metaphor for when the "honeymoon" period of an abuse cycle is over, you're left with a person who is horrible to you but that you're staying with out of obligation and a hope that you can change your circumstances back to how things were.

There's also a kind of desperation between the two of them because they've both lost their most important person. This leaves them feeling like the other is their responsibility, like they’re all they have left.

As an aside, each character have arm injuries that present themselves throughout the book, mostly as a way of repeating images for a general sense of thematic wholeness. Especially considering that the book opens with Riot sitting with Jason, inspecting his wounded arm right after he's just jumped off the balcony.

Avery's arm injury will be gnarly track marks from heroin

Jason has his scars from cutting, gradating heavier toward the wrist and I can't remember if he has a broken arm when he jumps off the roof? He definitely has scars from the gravel being embedded in his muscle tissue.

Riot has a broken arm from Jason getting into an automobile accident during one of his manic episodes (also the burn on her hand from Jason pressing a match to her flesh right on top of the tattoo that Avery gave her)

Scars and marks, as a way of asserting dominance and ownership of another individual, are important images thematically. We have Avery and Riot being very influential on each other cosmetically, growing to a more tactile image of giving each other hickeys and bruises when they have sex, and later it’s made even more permanent and solid when they give each other their prison tats. The tattoo serves as an important image both regarding the nature of their relationship and using the image of the needle to foreshadow Avery's OD. After Avery dies, Jason starts "marking" Riot, but in more violent and more destructive ways such as shaving off her hair, burning her with a match, and later being responsible for her broken arm. Incidentally, Jason also ends up finishing the tattoo on her neck that Avery didn't get around to before he left which has its own metaphoric significance.

For me as the writer, it is mostly an exploration in being a feminist, playing with structure and with character development via the split of first/second person narrative, the second person being Avery. I'm still debating how I can possibly write the parts that Riot isn't witness to, such as Avery's experience with addiction and when Jason kills the cat.

2011-11-21T21:44:00.000-08:00

sometimes to turn myself on I think about shoes

And the first thing she ever said to me was, "I'm not looking for love, just interested to see what kind of people fall in love with me"

2011-11-18T23:44:00.001-08:00

the beginning of a flirtation: when
you both just want to
tell
each other that you wanna'
fucking
wreck them,
but can't come out and say it
yet

you gotta be coy and only
mildly interested
because you gotta be every opportunity
or possibility
because you're not sure how
not
to play the game

this is the fun part, she says
this is where you wear your best
panties because you know
they're
going to ask you for
photos
where you do your hair nice
and take a bunch to have
on hand
in case you're already
in bed when
they ask

she says, this is the part where
you
practice how to describe yourself
Barnum effect so they
think of you as anything
they want you to be
this is the fun part, she says,

the beginnings
before you've got a chance to
see
their crippling
flaws before they've gotten
a chance to
see
yours when you're
not even armed
yet
with a strategy

a strategy,
she says,
is knowing how
not
to be a
jealous
person

a strategy, she says,
is knowing how
not
to fall in love
and, she continues, how
to lose
the desire
to tell them
all
your secrets

No One Said

2011-11-15T15:49:00.003-08:00

Pain, beautiful

2011-11-15T15:49:00.001-08:00

Of course I made a wish at 11:11

2011-11-11T11:13:00.000-08:00

well, next time i see a meterorite i'll be sure to make a wish

2011-11-10T14:23:00.000-08:00

Will Square Enix please just release a game where you play the entire Final Fantasty vii series, but through the eyes of Sephiroth?

I would quit my life and play that game forever.

Vignette assignment

2011-11-09T12:06:00.000-08:00

Choose any photo. Write a vignette.

This party is blowing up! Bodies and techno beats. Oh my god, the music is so loud you can’t even hear it! Rather you feel it coursing entirely through you. NNTZZTS NNntz nnntzs NNNTZZ nntzss!

And it’s a rave, so you flail your body around like a marionette on a string, but you’re your own master and there’s an elated sensation of freedom resonating in your teeth, in your fingertips. It fills you, fluid in your bones.

Even Jason is tearing the floor apart. His face is concentrated and serene like I’ve never seen him. He jumps into the air and kicks his legs and for a moment I pretend that he must be happy right now.

I want him to be this way. Always.

We all came out wearing our favorite flannels. It’s a rave, so there’s little underneath. Aiko has a black and white flannel, buttons open, over a neon pink bra and she wears tiny white shorts. Jason bears a bare chest under his lumber-jack flannel and he wears his tight punk rock pants that make him look like a Korean pop star. He’s dangerous and beautiful, and girls keep dancing around him. I guess to the rest of them, it just looks like I’m one of them.

Jason sips some Jack from a flask he keeps tucked away in his shirt pocket, letting Aiko take a swig. I bet they’re gonna hook up tonight, she doesn’t have a boyfriend right now. She hands me the flask.

I just wanna get fucked up. I just wanna be a mess.

What if, for once, Jason has to take care of me? I drain his flask dry.

The music changes to a slower, more visceral beat. The chorus sounds like sirens wailing, and the light show slows to match. The whole room flashes gold, silver, blue, and sea green. An acid trip in fairy land.

I accidentally slam into a couple sucking face, and they don’t even care. They don’t even stop. There’s such desperation to the way they cling to each other, scrambling to a deeper closeness, clawing at each other’s skin.

There is something so beautiful about a frenzy, no?

Aiko is dancing with some hipster looking kid with oxfords, a tight band tee-shirt, a Pokémon wrist watch, and a crater face like he used to have pretty bad acne. I turn to look over to Jason, to see which of the girls he chose. I almost bump into him. He’s right behind me.

“Ah!”

“Sorry,” he grins. Slow loris grin. Damn.

We start dancing. I’m amazed at how smoothly we get into it. When Avery and I tried to dance for the first time, we were so nervous. We fumbled all over each other. Cute and sweet and perfect, in our own Avery and Riot way. Somehow, it isn’t weird with Jason’s hands on my waist. Our bodies slam together. I’m much shorter than him, but we’re staring right at each other. I can’t tear my eyes away.

I feel my face flush.

“It’s hot in here,” I complain, shouting as loud as I can. I wonder if he hears me.

He twirls me around and pulls me into him. I slam into his hips with my ass. Gripping my waist with clawed fingers, he holds me to him, and he leads me with a sway.

The song is electric, it’s mystical, it’s pulsing. I close my eyes, and watch the lights disrupting the blackness of my eyelids.

He moves his hands up my body, and rests them on my clavicle. He pulls down the collar of my flannel, pulls it down around my shoulders.

Jason grips my throat, tilts my head back. He pushes my hair away from the nape of my neck. Goosebumps rise on my skin under the fleeting touch of his fingertips. He kisses the sensitive area between my ear and my jaw bone. I could collapse. I lean further into him, open lips. I just want to taste the salt of his skin. Fuck, since when do I want that? Since just this moment?

He pulls away. He shimmies and shakes behind me, and we follow the same hectic rhythm. We still dance together, but our bodies aren’t so close.

I just think, you know how I like it. Keep doing that. Come on, keep doing that.

I glance behind me, straining my neck to see up at him. Please, please just keep doing that. He looks out, past me. My skin heats up where the ghost of his lips lingers.

Want, want, want. Brevity. Unresolved. I’m left wondering if it even happened at all.

I’m left wondering why I
need it to happen

so badly.

2011-11-07T09:12:00.001-08:00

focus on what it means to construct a sense of self and a life narrative in relation to the larger social world of family and friends, education, media, work, and community.

2011-11-04T14:21:00.000-07:00

i feel alone, and trapped inside myself

2011-11-01T18:35:00.001-07:00

I read into things

In The Meantime, Enjoy This Song

2011-10-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

I would like to say that she and I have the same wedge fur ankle boots

I'm planning a major reconstruction on the format of the blog, mainly because it's gotten to the point where all of the quality work is unidentifiable between the pieces of mush.

I will be adding edited versions of most of my pieces, organizing them by content, and making it so tangential pieces will link back to each other.

Also this will probably take a long ass time as I'm not exactly dedicated :)

I have scored partnership as creative director on a porn set.

2011-10-10T20:29:00.001-07:00

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Class Assignment "Testing the Waters"

2011-10-05T13:49:00.000-07:00

Show a dialogue between two individuals who are trying to gauge the others interest in them

I spend most of the day experiencing highs and lows of fucking hating Jason and fucking love him. But what he did, dude, what he did. I don’t know what to expect from him. What if the chemistry is different? Oh fuck, what if the chemistry is the same?

Picking an outfit is impossible.

I haven’t seen him in ages. Today I am picking him and his luggage up downtown. I wonder if he’ll sleep in my guest room or in my bed. I wonder which I want more.

I want him to try to come in, and I want to kick him out. Tell him I’ve moved on, I’m happy now. Thus, with the need to prove such as such, I worry I will be impatient and lead him there. I worry I’ll give in so easily just because it’s him, and he always has me doing everything the opposite of how I plan it.

I take off the dress I’m wearing. He’ll wonder why I’m wearing a dress. And I don’t even bother trying on any of my pairs of heels, no point in being uncomfortable just to look good. I don’t need to look that good for him.

Somehow, I ended up spending all of last night slaving over a playlist for the car ride. A perfect blend of nostalgic hits and new awesome music that he wouldn’t expect I’ve grown to like.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffs as he gets into my car. He throws his bags in the back. Stirb Nicht Vor Mir by Rammstein is playing. It means Don’t Die Before I Do. I wonder if Jason remembers how this song was playing on his mp3 player when he and I were taking the bus home together from Bellevue, that time I had run into him at the bus stop right outside the mall. He had been at his therapist’s and was making his transfer there. We sat in the back and he gave me one side of his headphones. It had such a strong meaning for me, then. “It’s already a nine hour flight, then it gets delayed another nine hours? I was waiting at the airport the whole fucking day. I ended up reading all of Twilight over some girls shoulder.”

“Uh… hi?” I say.

“Hey, how you been? Seriously, the fucking AIR TRAVEL INDUSTRY.” He punches my dashboard. He rolls down the window and lights a cigarette and slouches. He’s being such a bitch. He didn’t even try to give me a hug or anything.

“Yeah, they’re bastards,” I say. I try not to be resentful of his mood. I just wish he were happier. That’s how it has always been, hasn’t it? The crippling need to please him just so he’ll be pleasant to be around. God.

His face is pretty and he has the kind of smile that makes you want to give him things.

“I’m starving, Riot girl!” now he smiles. ‘Cause he wants something.

“You gonna’ take me to dinner?” I ask, smiling back.

“We should get bacon waffles and split a crepe at Seth’s Diner.” I try to remember which place that is so I can drive there. “GODDAMN, that place is the only thing I miss about home.”

“Sandy Vagina?” I ask with a laugh.

“What?” he’s flabbergasted.

“That bitch waitress at Seth’s!” I try to explain. “Her name was Sandy, remember? It was on her nametag.” I repeat the little exchange we’d had that resulted in alluding to her bitchiness being the product of a sandtrap snatch.

“What the hell Riot, I’m just going on about a bacon waffle and a fucking crepe and you just,” he giggles and continues, “pipe in with Sandy Vagina! What the fuck!” At least he’s laughing.

Bitterness tastes like bile and second hand smoke. I laugh too. I don’t want to be the person I always have been, because that person has always proved they can’t be with Jason. If I am that person, then I can’t fit with him. I want to be his perfect match.

It would be

Convenient.

It could be

Hot.

I wonder how much of my adoration for him is just because he was Avery’s best friend, because he was still there even when Avery wasn’t. Natural Selection indicates Jason is a better reproductive mate, doesn’t it? He’s still here even though Avery didn’t make it. Don’t think about kids. Don’t think about kids with Jason. Those brats would be monsters. Those brats would tear me limb from limb.

Jason doesn’t even ask if he can change music before he’s unplugging my iPod and plugging his in. He listens to dubstep now. I’d be mad, but I choose to interpret it like he’s trying to share himself with me. I let the beats wash over me, and move in time to the rhythm. My fingers do a tiny dance on my steering wheel.

“I wrote this,” he tells me. “It’s called Quiet Riot.”

“Is it about me?” I ask, and grin. The beats are slow and sensual but there’s a wild and bright guitar riff being repeated over and over between the ebb and flow of the soft but passionate chorus. I wish there were words. I have to know. I have to know what this means, what he thinks about me.

“I wanted to capture this emotion I only have in certain circumstances. It’s an emotion that’s not quite despair. Like, when we’re fighting? And we’re pissed off and ignoring each other and you’re hostile and I just want to tear you apart. The times of prolonged silence where none of us can be around the other?”

I don’t know what to say in response.

He continues, “It’s just… ya know, a quiet riot. Because I’m still yelling at you inside my head. For days. Arguing with you while I’m at work or on the subway or cooking or watching tv. Getting dressed.” He used to say so little, be so concise.

“Did you write any happy songs about me?” I bite my lips and look at him from my peripheral. He flicks the butt of his cigarette out the window. My heart has a lock and key.

“Have we ever been happy?” he laughs and coughs. I wish we were sitting face to face, I can’t read his profile.

“From time to time?” I say it like it’s a question. It’s not a question, it’s a lie.