14. Jimmy
JIMMY
I’m not a drinker. I never have been, and I probably never will be.
Thanks to Mac, I’ve downed a shot or two, but I seriously hated both of them, and after that, he stopped trying to get me drunk and just accepted that I’m not into liquor. I appreciated his help tonight, although…
I throw another dubious look at my shot glass of pickle juice. I haven’t had to touch it yet, because I have done nothing with my life.
Everyone else has had to down at least a drink or two, but me?
Nope. I’m the guy who has been good beyond all reason.
I’ve toed the line. I’ve done what my parents expected me to—Every. Step. Of. The. Way.
The most rebellious thing I’ve ever done is come to this lake house, and now I’m sitting here feeling like a loser.
An inexperienced, barely-lived-my-life loser.
And I don’t even know how to change that.
“Never have I ever been caught watching porn by my mom.” Enzo grins at Adonis, who gives him a dirty look.
Snatching his drink off the table, he mutters, “You asshole,” before downing the shot while everyone else starts laughing and pointing at the poor guy.
Man, that is so embarrassing.
“What’d she do?” Darian bounces in his seat like an excited puppy.
Adonis shakes his head. “She went bright red, stammered something about inappropriate viewing, then bolted from the room. Later that night, she sicced Dad on me, who fumbled his way through the most embarrassing conversation of his life. Then she spent the next week giving me pained smiles, barely able to talk to me.”
“How old were you?” Nix asks.
Adonis shrugs. “Like… sixteen, maybe.”
“You’re gross.” Charli makes a face at him.
“That’s what my mom eventually said to me. Then she cried and told me she thought I was better than that.”
“Ouch.” Sawyer hisses.
Enzo is still laughing. “And he hasn’t been able to watch porn since.”
“Well, good.” Charli slaps the table. “That shit is sick.” She eyes us up, her look all-knowing and accusatory.
A few guys squirm in their seats, and I just sit there staring at my pickle juice, because the closest I’ve ever gotten to porn is seeing a few pictures of boobs in a Penthouse magazine.
It wasn’t even mine. Some guy was just passing it around the locker room in high school.
The coach walked in, and the mag was snatched from my hand by the owner and thrown into a locker.
And that was it for me.
Sure, I’m curious about the opposite sex, but do you think I’ve had the courage to do anything about it?
I mean, I’ve kissed a few girls. Or at least they’ve kissed me. It was nice. I liked it, but I’ve never done anything more than that.
Man, I really am sheltered. Even though I’ve left home to go to college, I’m still living like the good little saint my parents expect me to be.
For the first time tonight, I actually want to drink this pickle juice!
I want to be something more than the Lis’ boy. Something more than… I don’t even know.
The only thing I’ve ever done that was truly for me is basketball, and even then, my parents have made me feel so bad about pursuing it that I’ve nearly quit twice. But I just love it too much to stop playing.
I guess that’s my ultimate rebellion. Basketball.
But shouldn’t there be more?
Shouldn’t I be spreading my wings? Flying high and—
“Jimmy, it’s your turn, man.” Cash points at me.
Soaring.
I should be flying high and soaring.
With a swallow, I glance around the table and softly say, “Never have I ever…” I scramble for something that hasn’t been said yet, then quickly blurt, “Never have I ever laughed so hard I peed my pants.”
“Oh balls!” Charli snatches her shot glass and downs it while Sawyer cracks up laughing.
“I remember that. You snorted ice cream out of your nose that day too.” He raises his shot glass. “And then I peed my pants because you made me laugh so hard.” Smiling at her with a look of pride, he downs his shot, followed by Mac, who seems to be drinking every single round.
We all give him questioning frowns, and his shoulder hitches. “I was drunk off my ass.”
That seems to be his explanation for everything, and part of me is wondering if he’s just making this up to appear wilder than he really is… or… maybe he’s an alcoholic.
Both theories are believable.
Finn MacAlister’s an interesting guy. He’s hard to read sometimes and has so many layers he makes the word “complex” seem insufficient.
It really is surprising that we’re friends. I can’t even remember how it started or why it’s continued, but I know I’d do pretty much anything for the guy… and he’d do anything for me.
He’s loyal, and despite the fact that he seems set on self-destructing, there’s something about him that I can’t help liking.
And don’t even ask me to explain, because I can’t.
Refilling his shot glass, he places the bottle back down, and it tips sideways. I quickly snatch it before it spills everywhere and give my friend a worried frown.
He’s getting so wasted. We should probably wrap this game up soon. Half the table is already trashed, and it’s going to be hangover central tomorrow if we don’t wind this up quick smart.
“Should we make this the last one?” I throw it out there quietly and get a myriad of reactions—a groan, a “no!,” a “yes!,” a giggle, a burp, an “I’m so drunk, you guys are turning fuzzy.”
Yeah, we should definitely make this the last one.
“Okay, I got it, I got it, I got it,” Mac slurs, raising his glass and looking right at me. His smirk is dangerous, and with a sinking gut, I know I’m gonna have to down this pickle juice. “Never have I ever been grounded for leaving the toilet seat up.”
Aw man, why did I tell him that?
I did it once, when I was seven, and Mā made me spend the rest of the day in my room for being so thoughtless. I’d also peed on the floor, and she was so disgusted with me, she made me clean the bathroom until it sparkled. Only after that was my sentence over and I could come downstairs for dinner.
I’ve never left the toilet seat up again, though. Ever.
And I’d say I’m probably the tidiest, cleanest person in any room thanks to my strict mother.
My lips dip into a frown as I reach for the shot glass, then hesitate.
“Just do it, Jimmy.” Mac’s words are still slurred, but his tone feels like a bark, so I snatch that shot glass and down it.
“No way!” Charli gapes at me. “Grounded for leaving the seat up? Dude, that’s harsh.” She flicks her thumb at her brother. “Darian would have spent half his life grounded.”
“Shut up, I’m not that bad.” He swishes his hand through the air while Charli whips a look at him, then immediately sways in her seat, grabbing her head with a soft groan.
Darian lurches forward. “Are you gonna be sick? Do not puke on me. I only got these shorts a couple of weeks ago.”
Charli groans again and pitches toward him like she’s about to upchuck, and Darian lets out this weird yelp, jumping away from her.
She slumps onto the floor, dissolving into a pile of giggles. “You are such a princess,” she teases him, then puts on a mocking voice. “I only got these shorts a couple of weeks ago.”
Nix starts to laugh too, and Darian rolls his eyes, scratching the top of his head and muttering something in Spanish that I don’t quite catch, but it makes Mac laugh.
The guy is fluent in Spanish. Like me, he grew up bilingual. Apparently, the housekeeper and gardener taught him. And he had a Spanish nanny at one point.
Me, I grew up speaking English and Mandarin. I’ve tried learning other languages at school, but they never stick. According to my parents, English and Mandarin are all I need anyway. I guess it is in their world… and that’s the only one that seems to matter.
“Vamos, manita. Levántate.” Darian bends down to help his sister off the floor, and I rise from my chair when he topples over and starts laughing as well.
So many drunk bodies in this house right now.
With a sigh, I walk around the table and bend down to get the two giggling siblings off the floor.
It takes me about forty minutes, but I eventually get everyone to their respective rooms. I try to get them to down a glass of water before they fall into bed, but I’m only half successful.
Ben’s sober enough to help me, and so is Cash.
Between the three of us, we get drunk heads onto pillows.
Teeth brushing and face washing are forgotten about as people flop onto their mattresses.
Sawyer’s snoring before I even walk out of the room.
The hardest one to get to bed is Mac. He insists that he isn’t that drunk and “We should go for a midnight swim.”
Yeah, not likely, dude.
“It’ll be great. The stars will look so good tonight.”
“They’ll be blurry fuzz balls in the sky for you,” I assure him, wrapping my arm around his waist and helping him up the stairs.
It’s a mission. The guy might be the shortest member of the team, but he’s strong and stubborn, and I eventually just pick him up and throw him over my shoulder.
He’s not impressed and yells like a toddler, but as soon as I fling him onto his bed, he starts laughing, rolls onto his stomach with his arm flopping over the edge of the bed, and… yep, he’s gone.
After that, I check the house is secure, then brush my teeth, wash my face, and slip into bed like the good boy I am.
Lifting the curtain aside, I stare up at the moon. It’s a bright, glowing orb in the sky, and I’m mesmerized by it, a small smile tugging at my lips.
As awkward as tonight has been, it was also kind of fun.
I’m glad I’m here.
My stomach clenches at the thought, for a second wondering what my parents are thinking.
Who cares what they’re thinking! You’re living for once. Let yourself enjoy it!
And I want to.
I’m just so used to always doing what I’m told.
I’ve been too afraid to check my phone, and although I’m tempted to reach for it now, I squeeze my eyes shut and force myself to wait and deal with it in the morning.
Mā will have no doubt been texting me in a fury, and I’ll never get any sleep if I have to deal with the weight of her disappointment right now.
So I open my eyes and stare at the moon until it starts to fuzz around the edges.
Dropping the curtain, I roll onto my side and will myself to fall asleep.