This one is almost twice the length of the last! And yet the plot still only inches further because I'm too self-indulgent in my writing!
The bus ride to the beach was awkward to say the least. Aside from the shrieking teenagers and miscellaneous objects being launched across the seats, I had to endure constant glances from Celeste, who sat in the row across from me. I also had to endure constant glances from Shawn, Las Vegas, Shawn discreetly glowering at Las Vegas, and Matt shouting at Trudy over who was the best Avenger.
"The Hulk has it all! Brains and brawn!" Trudy screamed.
"Yeah! But never at the same time!" Matt contended.
Trent poked his head up from the seat behind me. "I like Batman. He's hot," he added.
"Batman isn't an Avenger, Trent," Celeste said without looking up from her book.
God I loved these idiots. I would give anything to just go back to how it used to be with them-- before Shawn ever stuck his fucking head into my life.
When the ocean came into view, everyone began to lean over each other to get a look. I heard a pair of girls in the seat in front of me ask each other if they thought their bikinis were cute. I frowned; it was the middle of winter! Sure, we were all hormonal teenagers who wanted to see each others' half-naked bodies—but not at the cost of hypothermia.
I felt my new phone begin to vibrate in my pocket. Shawn had given me one that morning before we left. When I asked him just how bugged out it was, he simply responded 'no more than your last phone.' When I opened it and noticed that it had all the contents of my previous phone, I wasn't even surprised. I took it out and pressed accept without even bothering to look at the contact. What the hell did Shawn want now?
"Can this wait?" I asked, speaking over Matt—who began yelling about which Avenger would be the best to bang.
"Hey, can we talk later?" someone (who wasn't Shawn) whispered.
I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked behind me. Las Vegas stared back, phone against his ear. I blanched and snapped my eyes up to look towards Shawn and met his gaze. His expression was nonchalant enough, but that didn't fool me.
"Nope nope nope nope," I muttered as I pressed end call and shoved the phone back into my pocket. I glanced back towards Shawn, but he had turned away again. I didn't risk looking back at Las Vegas and settled to stare out the window at the grey waves of the ocean.
Looking at the ocean, I thought that maybe a day at the beach didn't sound so bad— not even if I had to spend the whole day making sure Shawn didn't try to drown Las Vegas. Maybe I could even slip away for long enough to get a moment of fucking peace before Shawn lectured me about not being allowed to go anywhere he couldn't see. And even if I couldn't, just being out of town could help me begin to cope with what had happened in the past month or so.
"Alright brats!" A low voice bellowed. The girl's soccer coach stood up and faced the back of the bus, nostrils flaring as he surveyed every student one by one. "The school thought it'd be a good idea to waste taxpayer money on a beach retreat for you sensitive little snowflakes! But I won't allow ANY of you to break school rules. You go anywhere that I can't see, you get put on the bus until we leave!" he shouted, spraying spit onto the rows in front of him. So much for finding a moment of peace.
As the bus pulled into a parking lot by the sand, the coach began to call names out one by one like an army sergeant talking to a platoon of soldiers. I sighed and sunk back into my seat; at least I wouldn't be stuck in my house alone with Shawn all day.
"Psst! Hey Jake!" Matt called in a loud whisper yell.
"Yeah?"
I pulled out a blue water bottle and shook it. "Want some booze? Looks like you need it."
I frowned. Where the hell did he get booze? "What kind?"
He grinned. "Every kind. Gift from my brother."
I stared at the bottle and thought it over; I wasn't exactly a big fan of drinking since most alcohols tasted like piss to me— but fuck if getting drunk didn't sound like bliss after the shit I had gone through. I held out my hand to take the bottle.
Matt's smile faltered. "Wait, really?"
I raised my eyebrows at him and gestured for him to hand the bottle over. If I couldn't get peace at the beach, maybe I could find a good time wasted. Besides, I could be drunk and make sure Shawn didn't drown Las Vegas at the same time.
He leaned over Celeste and handed me the bottle. "Have at it, dude—just don't throw it up, or I might get in trouble."
"Thanks, Matt. And don't worry, I won't," I assured him. That being said, as soon as the burning liquid hit my tongue I had to suppress the urge to barf it up on the back of the seat in front of me. I screwed my eyes shut and gulped down a few swallows, then coughed violently as I screwed the cap back on. "Does anyone have a water bottle actually filled with water?" I rasped.
My friends all stared at me with gaping mouths. "Bro, that was sick!" Matt exclaimed.
"Are you feeling okay?' Celeste asked, studying me with a frown.
"Peachy—it's just been a rough semester... for all of us. I mean, our school got blown to the moon," I said. I could feel the alcohol warm in my gut and my head began to feel light.
Students were called off the bus in a painfully slow fashion as the soccer coach stopped every other student to lecture them on what they would and wouldn't be allowed to do on the beach. Eventually, my name got called and I began to shuffle to the front of the bus. It took active effort to keep a straight face and even steps.
The soccer coach stopped me before I could exit the bus. He scrutinized me closely and raised a brow. "You feeling alright there, son?" he asked.
Fuck. I must have looked pretty out of it. I clutched at my stomach. "I just—need to find a bathroom," I wheezed, attempting to make the best pitiful expression I could without bursting out in drunken laughter.
The man scrunched his nose. "Well, don't puke in here! Move out!" He pointed to the door.
I did as I was told and stepped outside the bus, waiting by it for my friends to come out. I may have been drunk, but I had enough sense to know that if I wandered off on my own I'd probably trip and fall the moment I tried to walk on the sand. As I waited, I swayed back and forth on my ankles and tried not to fall.
"Hey, Jake," a voice called from next to me.
I turned my head and saw Las Vegas stepping up to me. I paled and turned my head left and right to scan for Shawn. He couldn't see me talking to him—or we'd both be in deep shit!
Las Vegas must have noticed my panic, because he looked down at the pavement with a sad frown. "I just—I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry for what happened, and that you don't have to worry about it happening again. I made sure that you would never be put into that kind of situation again. I know that you're probably going through shit yourself... but, maybe we can talk later? I just want to know that you're alright," he muttered. He looked like shit. He had a huge black eye, accentuated by exhausted bags.
Before I could stop myself, I impulsively brought out a hand to cup his face. "You look terrible."
Las Vegas's eyes widened. He pulled away and looked left and glanced around the parking lot, probably for Shawn. "We really shouldn't talk here—not with that trigger happy motherfucker just around the corner."
I laughed. "Which trigger happy motherfucker?"
The corners of Las Vegas's mouth quirked up a bit. "Yours."
I snickered. "Yeah, he definitely already knows that we're talking," I said, my mind too fuzzy to really grasp the seriousness of that fact. "Man, I'm drunk," I muttered to myself.
Las Vegas laughed, making him flinch in pain. He brought a hand down to clutch his gut. "No kidding. Think you could hook me up?" he asked.
"Hm, you'd have to ask Matt—Hey! Matt!" I yelled, waving at my friend as he stepped off the bus.
Matt turned towards me with a smile, which faltered as he noticed Las Vegas. "Yeah? What's up?"
I looped an arm around his shoulder. "Do you think you could spare any of that water? My friend here wants to get slooshed."
Matt began to chuckle, shoulders shaking under my arm. "You mean sloshed? And sure!" Matt held out his water bottle to Las Vegas. "Any friend of Jake's is a friend of mine!"
Las Vegas held up his hands and shook his head. "Aw man, I couldn't—keep that shit for yourself."
Matt shook the bottle and held it closer. "Come on, dude! You'll offend me!"
Las Vegas rubbed the back of his head sheepishly before accepting the bottle and taking a small swig. Much smaller than mine. He scrunched up his nose once he finished, handing the bottle back to Matt. "What's in this? Vodka and fireball?"
Matt shrugged. "I dunno, probably just some of everything in the house so my parents wouldn't notice."
Las Vegas was about to comment when Trudy jumped out of the bus and began to scream at Matt. "You! We're not done with our debate! Time to square up—Loki is hot!"
"Nice meeting you, dude," Matt said to Las Vegas, giving him a fist bump before whirling around to face Trudy. "Loki is a scrawny goth piece of shit!"
"Your friends are nice," Las Vegas said, watching with me as Trudy and Matt got in each others' faces to scream.
I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. My friends weren't nice—they were the best damn people I knew. And Shawn kept threatening to kill them! "I know... I worry about them. I need them to be safe." I sniffed.
Las Vegas frowned at me. "You've had way too much to drink, haven't you?"
"Shut up," I said, rubbing my eyes.
Las Vegas gave me a pat on the back, but then suddenly withdrew as if I had burned him. "I-I need to go. That guy is glaring daggers at me—try to talk him out of killing me later, would you?"
I looked up to see Shawn staring directly at us from the opposite side of the parking lot. I turned away as fast as I could. "Think he saw me?" I asked.
Las Vegas let out a nervous laugh as he stepped away from me. "Uh, yeah I'm pretty sure he did. Let's talk later, okay? Maybe sometime when that guy isn't around."
"Okay," I said. As if Shawn would ever leave me alone long enough to have a private conversation with Las Vegas. I literally had to steal his car the last time I wanted to talk to someone alone!
Las Vegas retreated, and I turned back to my friends. Trent waved me over with a grin. "So, who's the hottie?" he asked me in a whisper.
I shushed him. "The only hottie that you need to be worried about is yourself," I muttered, patting him on the shoulder. I didn't need him getting involved in Las Vegas's shit any more than he was unknowingly involved in mine.
"Aw! Jake!" Trent hugged me tightly. "You're so sweet when you're drunk!"
Despite all the trouble that me being drunk had caused, it helped contribute to a pretty great day overall. I was able to ignore everything that had plagued my mind in the past few days and have fun with my friends for once. Trent tried to diffuse the argument between Matt and Trudy, which had devolved into a heated debate about whether sorcery was sexy. Celeste occasionally weighed in without looking up from her book. I smiled; even if my life had gone to shit, my friends were still the same as always.
My friends and I spent the next hour on the sand (which I could barely balance on and fell multiple times). Trudy and Matt ended up getting just as drunk as I was after they competed to see who could drink the most out of Matt's water bottle. They both won (or lost— it depended on how one viewed two teenagers getting wasted on a school-sanctioned trip).
We had just finished a game of volleyball (using a soccer ball Matt had borrowed from some of his other friends) when I realized that I had to go to the bathroom. "Hey!" I said, stumbling over to my friends. "I gotta piss, I'll be right back."
"Alright, don't fall in!" Trudy slurred, eliciting loud laughter from Matt. Celeste shook her head at us with a sigh.
I strode across the sand to the bathroom, stumbling as I tried to get used to walking on a solid surface again. I tried to ignore the stench of the bathroom as I relieved myself in a nasty looking urinal. After finishing, I zipped up my fly and walked towards the door.
Just as I stepped out of the gritty bathroom, a hand shot out and yanked me behind the cement wall. I yelped, suddenly confronted with Shawn's cold eyes and angry expression. He pushed me up against the wall, which was hidden from the beach where everyone else was.
Aw, fuck. Of all people, I didn't want him to know that I was drunk.
"I saw you talking to Las Vegas earlier," Shawn hissed into my face. "What did you say to him?"
My usual reaction would have been to respond apprehensively with caution, but my alcohol-addled mind could only really parse out one fact; his breath smelled like mint. "Fresh," I muttered to myself.
"What?" Shawn scowled. He placed his fist on the wall and leaned closer to my face. "Don't be fucking cryptic with me, Jake. What did he say?"
I frowned. Shit, I should've been paying attention. "Who?" I asked.
I could hear Shawn's hand rub against the concrete wall as he tightened his fist and leaned even closer. "Las Vegas. You won't get out of this by playing dumb. Tell me what he said or—"
"Shhh," I said, placing a hand over his face. "He said something about being sorry and needing alcohol." I felt proud of being able to keep such an even tone.
Shawn grit his teeth and grabbed my hand, holding it away from his face. His eyes seared into mine. "Bullshit! And why are you so calm? You know that I'll murder the motherfucker if I so much as suspect that he'll put you in danger."
At that threat, part of me tried to sober up— but I just couldn't seem to regain control over my own brain. I rolled my eyes. "Ugh, you're dumb. He said that it wouldn't happen again—so don't worry."
"Don't worry? He's connected to someone who wants to use you to make me suffer—and you're telling me not to fucking worry? How about—"
"Not this again," I groaned, entirely neglecting the gravity of the conversation. I poked the space between his eyebrows with my free hand. "You'll get wrinkles if you stay so mad all the damn time."
He squinted his eyes. He leaned down a tad to study my face. "You're acting... off."
"You're acting off." 'Off his rocker!' I couldn't help but bark out a laugh at my own joke.
Shawn raised an eyebrow, his sharp blue eyes bearing into mine. Or were they green? I was never sure— and I suddenly wanted to know. I leaned closer to study his irises.
Shawn stiffened, his eyes widening in confusion. I heard him take a sniff. He sighed. "Fuck— Jake, who the hell gave you alcohol?"
I scowled; shit, busted. How could I get out of this? I was too drunk to tell whether or not Shawn would be angry at who gave me alcohol. I shrugged with an exaggerated frown. "Who knows?" I said. He couldn't argue against that.
Shawn stared at me for a moment before looping an arm around my waist. I was too far-gone to even notice the action. "Was it Trent?" he asked.
"Your hair is the color of sand," I stated—a true master of evasive maneuvers.
Shawn's lips quirked up into a smile. His other arm joined the first as he rested both hands on my hips. Of course, in my drunken state, I didn't really care. "Oh, is it? What did you drink?"
"No clue," I said. Something past him caught my eye. "Oh shit, look!" I shouted, pointing.
Shawn spun around to face whatever I had pointed at and pushed me behind him. He followed the line of my finger to a seagull eating out of a trashcan. He let out a long sigh and ran a hand across his forehead. "I should have known—what are you doing?"
I dug around in Shawn's short pockets until I found a granola bar I'd seen him put in there earlier that morning. I held it up to him with a grin. "Let's feed it!"
He stared at the granola bar for a moment before laughing. He gave me a tender smile. "You're adorable," he said.
I snapped my fingers into two finger guns. "And you're a bitch."
He rolled his eyes with a smile. "Let's just feed the damn seagull."
After struggling with the wrapper for a while, Shawn took the granola bar and peeled it off in seconds. He broke it in half and handed me a piece. Shawn then pulled off a piece and threw it on the ground near the bird, which hopped down from the trashcan to eat it. I, on the other hand, decided it would be a good idea to hurl my half at the seagull.
Shawn laughed as the seagull made a sound and flapped up before coming back down to eat the food. His smile turned sad as he looked at me. "I wish you would let down your guard like this more often around me..."
I stared at him a moment before stifling a laugh."Pfft! Make yourself someone less terrifying first, you crazy bitch!" I smacked him on the arm.
Shawn pouted. "I'm trying."
I laughed again. "That's even worse!" I grinned. "Exhibit A; what if I said that I thought that Quint had the best abs in the world and that his eyes—"
"Who's Quint?" Shawn hissed, getting into my personal space.
My instincts told me to be afraid, but my drunk mind was too enthused about being right to heed them. "He doesn't exist—I can't believe you keep falling for that," I smiled and poked his face. "And see? Look at that scary face."
Shawn rolled his eyes and lightly smacked my hand away. "Okay, okay. But can you blame me?" His smile fell. "You're literally the only thing I care about. I'm always scared that something or someone is going to try and take you from me—which has almost happened several times now, may I add—and, well, I can't kick the habit of just getting everything I want through violence and manipulation."
I hummed in thought. "Well, why don't you try to kick the habit? You'd be a lot more tolerable without having to fear for my friends' lives every time I do something as simple as lying."
Shawn scowled. "I'm not budging on that rule."
I sighed. "And that's why we'll never get along."
"... Let's discuss this more when you're sober."
"Okay," I said, watching the seagull as it finished up the granola bar and flew up and away into the grey sky. "I'm gonna leave now."
Shawn studied me for a moment before nodding. "Alright—don't talk to Las Vegas."
"Whatever," I said, taking a few steps back towards the beach. A realization made me stop, and turn back towards Shawn. "Oh yeah! I just remembered something."
Shawn hardly got the chance to open his mouth and ask 'what' before I kissed him on the lips (something I'd seriously regret later). It wasn't a smooth or elegant kiss— and primarily consisted of me pressing my lips against his as hard as I could— but it was a kiss nonetheless. I pulled away after a few seconds and patted him on the shoulder. "That counts as three kisses, got it?"
He looked like a deer caught in headlights. "Wow," he muttered, touching his lips. "We need to get you drunk more often."
A voice sounded from inside the bathroom "Jake! Where are you? You didn't actually fall in, right?" Trent's concerned voice called out.
Shawn glared in the direction of Trent's voice. "I guess you can go."
"I can go anywhere I want." I flipped him off. "See you later, you blonde bitch!" I shouted before leaving.
I spent the rest of the day in a joyful bliss I hadn't experienced in too long. Was it worth the raging hangover I'd feel only hours after I got home? Definitely. Was getting drunk again worth the risk of planting another unprompted kiss on Shawn's lips? No fucking way.
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Thanks again to everyone for coming back and continuing to read my book! Like I'm shocked at the number of comments and views the last chapter had I appreciate you all so much.
Anyways-- I'll try to get some more plot momentum going in the next chapter