Book of BxB One Shots

Drunken Affairs

Warning, this story contains profanity.

Word count: 6, 441

Written May 17, 2020 at 12:19 AM. Posted May 23, 2020

 Far from town, in a field owned by someone's grandfather, or uncle, or possibly a distant cousin twice removed, a group of fourteen teenagers parked their vehicles and turned up the volume on a portable speaker someone synced to their phone. While a rap song played loud enough for their ears to cringe, a few boys built a pit and stacked it with old planks and chopped up logs swiped from a woodpile. One girl chased two others with an insect held in her palm, and another girl sat idly on the tailgate of one of the trucks, lazily swinging her legs while she scrolled through her phone.

Milo watched this all as he and his buddy Trist gathered sticks from the woods edging the field. Shadows clung to every tree trunk, plunging them into near darkness as they ducked under branches and stepped over knarled roots. Trist waved his phone around, shining it's flashlight down at their feet as they walked and up at the trees on occasion when he checked for the branches they'd need. When he tripped over a root and nearly cracked his head into the trunk of a tree, Milo jumped forward and grabbed his arm, steadying him.

"Thanks, man," Trist breathed, catching his breath. Straightening, he looked around and laughed. "Let's try this way."

Picking along behind his friend, Milo listened to the laughter coming from where they had left the others. It sounded like everyone was having fun, and he couldn't wait to rejoin them and laugh too. Maybe he'd even finally get the balls to ask Paisley out.

And maybe I'll make out with Trist, he thought sarcastically, puffing a breath of laughter through his nose.

They reached a tree with familiar leaves and Trist removed a pocketknife from his jeans. Handing Milo his phone, Trist sawed at the thin branch until it broke off, then he handed the stick to Milo to hold. Meanwhile, Milo held the light steady and searched the ground near the tree for any fallen branches. The dark, rich scent of earth and decaying leaves brought back memories of all the times he'd ever set foot in the woods. Growing up in the country meant there was usually little to do that wasn't outside, at least until companies finally started expanding their networks to give rural communities like Milo's internet and cell service. As it was, his family used dial-up for the better half of his life, until another company moved in and gave them high speed—which wasn't actually high speed when compared to a classmate's internet in town. Cell phones didn't even work on the section of road he lived on, unless he sat in a very specific spot of the attic. Yet if he drove a few minutes up the road to Trist's place, he'd have perfect service.

The perks of living on a hill, he supposed.

Once they'd gathered enough sticks for everyone, they made their way back to the group to find the firepit already blazing at a steady rate. Milo dropped his armload of sticks a good distance away from the fire, then turned to accept a can of coke from Trist's cousin, James. With a nod of thanks, he popped the tab and took a sip, crossing his arms. Someone had tossed down a thick plaid comforter, and the two girls sitting their smiled up at him and scooted over to make room for him to join.

Lowering himself to sit cross-legged beside them, he looked up at Trist and held out his hand for the pocketknife. "Hand that here."

Trist passed over the knife without a thought and went off toward the vehicles, probably to find the food they'd be roasting. The heat of the fire warmed Milo's front as he took up a stick and began whittling down one end, the crackle of the wood nearly drowned out under the heavy base of a pop song. Wood shavings fell in his lap, but he ignored them and kept shearing the stick down to a sharp point.