Jason: Hello?
Elsa: Hello, Jason?

It is hard to hear her over the noise of the bar. Jason mouths “Elsa” to Jess who makes a stern face and points at him. He gives her a thumbs up and takes the phone outside.
Jason: Elsa?
Elsa: Jason, where are you?
Jason: Where am I? Where are you?
Elsa: I’m at your flat.
Jason: My place? What’re you doing at my place?
Elsa: You gave me a key.

He did. He had. Casually, you know, like, oh hey drop by whenever, it’s cool—one more unsuccessful attempt to reel her in. “Yeah, well, like hang around for a few days and then come by unannounced, you know?”
Elsa: Are you angry?
Jason: Yeah. Yeah, I am. I haven’t seen you in a week and a half and now you call at,” he checks his watch, “Twelve-thirty! It’s twelve-thirty and you just bounce over to my place?
Elsa: Please, Jason, don’t be angry.
Jason: Look, it’s not—it’s just not cool to treat someone the way you’ve been treating me. It’s not.
Elsa: I know, it’s just—
Jason: I’m not on-call, Elsa. You can’t just show up. I’m not on-call.
Elsa: Please, Jason, please…
Jason: Look, I’m not—you don’t have to leave—sleep there if you want to—or don’t—but I’m out with my friends, and I’m staying out with my friends.

Silence.
Jason: I’m a nice guy, Elsa, but damn it, I’m not a pushover. You know? Don’t think you have me hooked… or something.

The word makes him mad. Pushover. Wimp. Toy. Puppet. “I gotta go. Goodbye.”

And then he hangs up. He surprises himself. For once he’d been merciless.

Read the whole thread: Untouchable

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