BAD BOY SAVED (male pov)

Fishing.

The thing about having friends with money meant that they also didn't understand the value of it or the problems caused by the absence of it. They showed no gratitude for the simple necessities in life like hot water or a stocked fridge. They took it all for granted because it came naturally to them.

That's why it absolutely turned my stomach sick when Jordan racked up a nine hundred dollar bill in the short two hours we had sat in the bar. At first he started buying the rounds just for us but as he consumed more and more alcohol he got more generous and ended up opening a tab for the entire bar.

I flicked peanuts into an empty ash tray letting the little wooden nugget roll around the bowl, scrapping around the sides before dropping to the bottom. Zak was busy and by busy I mean he had a girl on his lap and his tongue was getting put to work. For some reason he wore a cowboy hat that he had picked up from some drunk randomer and the whole scene felt very ratchet.

"Should we tell the girls we didn't go fishing?" Ben asked, everyone ignoring Zaks uncomfortable display of affection.

"The bar is called 'Fishing' ... close enough." Jordan muttered disinterestedly.

They finally stopped the smacking sounds of their locked lips and she whispered something in his ear then climbed off his lap and disappeared somewhere into the crowd. Zak raised his eyebrows at us smugly and tipped his ridiculous hat to us.

"Gentlemen." He said before he stood up and left the table, following after his girl.

"Ben go get us more shots." Jordan ordered and like the little trained lap dog he is Ben complied, heading straight to the bar.

"The camping trip is going to be very different this year." Jordan pointed out as he took a sip of his drink. My eyes lifted away from the ashtray to look at him.

"How so?" The traditional camping trip we go on every year. Full of bad decisions and relentless fun. I asked him why it was going to be different but I knew exactly what the changing factor was this year.

"I don't know. We just seem too grown for that shit now. One day we're kids, sneaking off into the wilderness with Zaks parents sleeping one tent over... the next we're teenagers, drinking the night away with some random girl under our arm... now we're what?"

"We're adults who snuck away from the girls to go day drinking in some crumby bar in the bad part of town, Zak still has a random girl under his arm and those shots, right there are about to get me real tipsy." I pointed at Ben who was stalking over with a big smile on his face and a tray full of flaming shots of Absinthe.

"I really want to make this work with Tia, I'm into her, ya know?" He dished out the shots, setting one down in front of each of us and leaving one in the vacant space Zak should be sitting in.

I picked it up, blew out the flame and knocked it to the back of my throat. It was very warming and had a black licorice taste which I enjoyed.

"So I can't be doing that shit no more, I can't fuck this up." He continued. I took another shot from the tray, blowing out the flame and repeating the process.

"What are we talking about?" Ben asked and Jordan took another shot.

"The camping trip. I was thinking maybe this time we could invite the girls with us?" Jordan spoke his words very coyly, treading on egg shells.

We have very few rules with regards to our camping trip. It's always been that way, no negotiations.

1. No ties to home. This means any girls that come have to be completely random hook ups. We switch our phones off and don't think or speak about anything from home.
2. No judgments. We get lost, make bad decisions. Share secrets. Do stupid stuff. This rule is a no brainier.
3. What happens at camping stays at camping. Never to be spoken about again.