Dear Diary (I'm not going to fight it anymore. Let's face it- you're not a journal; you're a diary),
It's been a long night. I'm exhausted, but I have to get all this off my chest first.
Tomorrow we're leaving for Japan for Steve's wedding. The house has been in a flurry of packing all day, but I finished packing really fast. I ended up just watching the chaos around me. I was grateful when the day finally ended. At least, I thought it ended. I had just started nodding off when a hand shaking my shoulder woke me up.
It was Ramona and she looked really sad. She was also wearing those stupidly small pajamas from before, but I just focused on the look on her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked as I sat up in bed.
She shook her head and crawled under the covers next to me. Alarm bells were ringing in my head as her warm body slid in next to mine. If she noticed how much I was freaking out, she didn't say anything and just rested her head on my shoulder.
"I think I have to break up with Popko," she sighed. As the breath left her, the rest of her body seemed to sag inward and deflate.
"Why?" I asked, willing my voice not to crack under stress. She was really close.
She dropped her hand in my lap. Shifting slightly away from her hand, I looked at the paper clenched in her fingers. It was a birthday card, wishing her a happy eightieth birthday. My confusion distracted me from her close proximity as I tried to understand what was going on. Stuff between us has gotten too weird lately. I don't understand her anymore.
"Read it," she urged me.
I gently grabbed the 80th birthday card from her hand and read the cheesy poem inside.
"Popko wrote this?" I asked, even though it was obvious Popko wrote it.
"It's just not working out," she cried, turning her face into my shoulder. I cast a nervous glance over to Max's bed, praying that she wouldn't wake him up. "He's so selfish. I don't like spending time with him. I don't like talking about him. What's the point of a boyfriend if the only reason you can tolerate him is that he's hot enough?"
I felt resentful for a second, but I'm going to chalk it up to me being jealous that she's dating someone and I'm not. I still miss Lola. I'm not jealous of Popko. Especially not now that she's thinking of ending things with him.
"You deserve a guy who would spend all of the time apart missing you, not trying to forget you with other girls," I told her.
"Thanks," she answered, her tears starting to slow down. "I just can't believe he would say that. Who thinks like that?"
"Him, apparently," I said, but then I noticed that she was about to start crying again so I quickly changed the subject. "But maybe it was just a funny rhyme. He might not mean it."
She nodded, wrapping a skinny arm around my waist in a side hug. I tentatively draped my arm over her shoulders, chanting "like a sister, like a sister, like a sister" over and over again in my head. I tried to remind myself of the countless times I had hugged Ramona and been this close to her. I should not have been freaking out. That doesn't change the fact that I kept freaking out.
"Yeah, maybe," she mumbled into my collarbone through my T-shirt. I spike of heat shot straight down my spine to my… well, y'know… I was worried that she could hear my heartbeat, but her next words gave me more reason to worry than any other words have before.
I felt kind of like I was choking but, like, mentally. I also felt like I was on fire and that my blood was literally boiling in my veins. I also felt like a coke bottle that someone had just dropped a Mentos into. I was feeling a lot of things.
"I know about your thing with Spanish," she repeated in English. The blood drained out of my face and my heart plummeted out of my chest. She yawned as if she hadn't just given me a mini heart attack. "I'm cool with it, I guess."
She slid down so that she wasn't sitting up anymore and laid down in my bed. Her cheek rested on my thigh, so I quickly slid down next to her. I don't want her anywhere near that area because I really want her everywhere near that area. That doesn't make any sense. Never mind.
"Dulces sueños. Te quiero."
And then she was asleep. And then I was hard.
So now, I'm sitting at my desk, reconsidering my entire life. Where are all of these sudden feelings coming from? I mean, I've never looked at Ramona this way before, but she's always spoken Spanish. Maybe it's because I'm not dating Lola anymore. Or maybe it's because of that conversation I had with Popko.
I pulled Popko aside to ask him why Ramona was shouting angrily in Spanish. I wasn't bothered by it then. Neither was he. He actually looked pretty pleased with himself.
"Dude, I gave her a hickey," Popko laughed.
"You what?!" I exclaimed before he quickly shushed me.
"I couldn't help it. She's so delicious."
I cringed at the smirk on his face.
"And don't be so loud!" he stage-whispered. "If she remembers I'm here, she'll come back to chew me out!"
I looked over at Ramona who was ranting loudly and speaking faster than I ever thought was possible. She was shaking her fist at the sky, so I asked Popko who she was yelling at if it wasn't at him.
"I don't know, man," he answered, laughing again. "Sometimes when she gets angry, she starts yelling at the sky or something. I don't really care because 1) at least she's not yelling at me and 2) she's sexy when she speaks Spanish."
"I don't think that's cool, man," I told him, remembering that lecture Lola gave me.
He shrugged. "Who cares if it's cool as long as it's hot?"
He chuckled at his own wordplay, but I felt really awkward. Popko and I used to be best friends and he used to talk like this all the time. Now that he's started dating Ramona, though, we sort of drifted apart and his talk makes me uncomfortable.
He must have spoken too loud, because Ramona suddenly rounded on him.
"¡Esto es tu culpa! Si no fueras tan idiota, yo no estaría en este lío. No puedo creer esto! No te rías, pendejo. Estoy enojado contigo."
Popko just grinned and Ramona continued to rant angrily. That's when I started to understand this from his perspective because, in that moment, I thought a thought I never thought I'd think: damn, that's hot.
For a while, I forgot about that conversation with Popko, but I started to notice Ramona's Spanish more and more. Now I'm here, unable to deny the things that I feel. I don't know what to do. What does this mean? Am I-
He turned away from the desk and quickly closed the book, being careful to hide it behind himself as he turned to face her. Ramona was slowly sitting up in his bed. His heart jumped into his throat as he took in the sight of her wrapped in his sheets with her brown hair splayed all over his pillow. Her eyes were kind of puffy from crying earlier, but he didn't notice.
She pulled back the sheets next to her and patted the space next to her.
"Regresa a la cama," she begged, a pitiful pout on her face. That's how he knew she was still half-asleep: Ramona Gibbler does not beg and she does not pout. Not for him, anyway.
"S-sure. One sec," he said, turning to scribble something in his jour- diary before tucking it away in a drawer and climbing into bed next to Ramona. She turned away from him and wrapped his arms around her body so that his front was curled around her back. She wiggled against him and fell asleep. He choked out, "Goodnight, Ramona."
"Buenas noches," she mumbled before she started to lightly snore.
Worrier that he is, Jackson could not stop deliberating over how confused Max would in the morning and if this basically constitutes as cheating since she technically hadn't broken up with Popko yet, but most of all he was worried about what she would say when she woke up to his morning wood pressing into her back. It took him a little while to fall asleep as well, all things running through his head considered, but he eventually drifted off beside her.
In his diary, the last line of ink he wrote had finally dried on the page.
Send help: I'm trapped in a bed with a cute Latina and ridiculously turned on right now.
Yay! Jamona Friday, the end of the weeklong Jamona series, has finally arrived. What do you think? How did I do? Review with your opinion and also your favorite fandom (other than Fuller House).
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