Broken and Screwed 2 (BS #2)

Jesse ignored them and gestured to the door. “Get in.”


As I did and reached for my seat belt, they were still watching us. One girl had stood from the table and stared at me, looking sad. She had long blonde hair and was pretty, like a real life doll. I asked, “Who are those guys?”

“No one.”

“Who, Jesse?” I could tell they weren’t ‘no one’.

“Jeremy Benson. Stay away from him. He’s bad news, Alex.”

Nothing more needed to be said. Benson and his friends were known for drugs, boozing, and getting arrested. I was glad that Jesse had ignored him now. He drove out of the parking lot and gunned the engine. Jesse had always been a speed demon, but it was worse since Ethan’s death. However, no one said anything. Jesse Hunt got away with almost anything he wanted. His dad gave enough money to the local police department and who else would step in to stop him? Maybe Ethan, but his best friend was dead now.

My brother was dead now.

“What’s wrong?”

I’d never get used to it. Ethan was supposed to be next to us. No, that wasn’t right either. Ethan was supposed to be where I was sitting. I should’ve been in the back seat and my brother would’ve been lecturing Jesse on the laws, how he needed to follow the set speed limit. Jesse would ignore him, but he’d grin and slow to a more reasonable pace. Then the two would laugh about something, curse at each other, and we’d head back to my home. Ethan never knew it, but sometimes Jesse and I touched hands. We never held each other’s hands. Jesse had a girlfriend, but not anymore.

I looked over at his clenched jaw. His knuckles gripped the wheel tight. I sighed, “Are you hoping to join him?”

His foot let up immediately on the pedal. “Sorry.” He shot me a rueful look. “I don’t think sometimes.”

“I wish I could stop thinking.”

He glanced over again. “You seem to be holding up all right.”

“It’s called not feeling. It’s the best method for mourning. You don’t.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, but it wasn’t a grin. It wasn’t even a half-grin. Jesse’s eyes were empty now. “I think I’ll try that tonight.”

“What?”

“Stop thinking. Stop feeling.”

“I want to get drunk tonight.”

“It’s on the agenda.” His eyes flickered now. A little bit of warmth was there. “You sure your parents were still there? I didn’t see their car in the lot.”

I lied again. “They think I’m staying at Angie’s tonight.”

“Does Angie know that?”

“No.”

He grinned again as he turned onto his street. Then he turned up the hill that their huge mansion had been built on. As he parked outside, a brand new Jaguar was already there. Jesse stopped and stared at it before the slightest bit of warmth faded from his eyes again. He took his keys out and dug it into the side of the car. He walked the entire length before he tucked his keys back into his pocket, taking my hand in his. “Fucking new girlfriend’s here.”

“Yours?”

“My dad’s. Come on.” He took me down the hill so we entered the house from the back door. We walked through the basement and headed up the farthest set of stairs. A feminine giggle was above us, followed by a man’s moan, but Jesse ignored the sounds. He led the way through the back hallways until we got to the farthest end of the house. I knew where his room was, but it’d been so long. I might’ve gotten lost. As we stepped into his room, it was like a whole other house inside of their house. Jesse had his own living quarters.

The sounds had grown quieter, but when he shut the door, there were no more sounds. It was only us.

I perched on his king sized bed while he rifled through his liquor cabinet. He had his own bar. It still amazed me, even though I knew he’d had it for a while. He was a junior. No, that wasn’t right anymore. Ethan had graduated. Jesse would be a senior and I was going to be a junior. We were so young, but I didn’t feel young anymore. I felt old, too old. And as Jesse poured himself a glass of something dark, he didn’t look young either.

Was it possible to age years in three days?

I felt it.

“Here.” Jesse gestured to the second glass. “Come over here.”

I did. My dress inched up my thigh, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I wouldn’t even feel it in a moment. I was still new to drinking. My first party had been earlier in the year, but I knew my tolerance wasn’t much. This glass and another, I’d be drunk.

Jesse already finished his. He began pouring a second for himself.

Well, maybe not. Maybe I wouldn’t feel this, like I didn’t feel anything else. But I drank it and I did. There was a burn. I barely flinched as I nudged the glass over for a refill.

“You sure?”

I nodded. I needed it. Tonight, I needed it. Tomorrow, I’d deal with the consequences.