Chapter 25 Not you, it’s me

• “Did I do something wrong?” Jackson asks for the umpteenth time as he pulls a pair of shorts over his waist. The walls vibrate from the effect of the speakers downstairs. Somewhere along the line, the songs had changed, more people had arrived. I hear the voices of drunk teenagers. Backing Jackson, I change into my clothes. “Cathy, talk to me.” 
• I don’t turn until I’m covered. “No, you didn’t. It’s not you, Jackson, it’s me.” I’m just… I don’t know, experiencing one silly midlife crisis a few days to my eighteenth birthday? Do teenagers experience that? Jackson curves a finger under my jaw and I look up. “I’m just tired, Jackson.” 
• “Some other time then?” My head moves in a nod before I change my mind. He presses a kiss to my forehead and hugs me briefly. “I’ll drop you off.”