Far From Home - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The Last Week of August
"Pocket knife?" Jake held up the box he had just unwrapped on his bed with a skeptical smile.
"Yeah man, yours sucks. You've had the same one for eight years." Aaron kicked his feet out onto Jake's desk with a messy grin that fell just short of starting trouble.
"I wish I'd have known it was your birthday." Andre mumbled from on top of his bed, watching the two other boys in the room from behind his phone screen.
"You didn't tell him?"
Jake shrugged it off.
"Well that's rude." His best friend grumbled. "Sorry Andrew, when's your birthday?"
Jake dropped his hands down in his lap. "Are you fucking stupid? How many times have we gone over this?"
"What?" Aaron looked at him with dumbfounded wrinkles etched into his face.
"It's Andre." Jake motioned his hand out as he said his roommate's name, hoping that maybe he could attach the name to a brain cell if he watched Jake's motion closely enough.
"Oh, sorry man." Aaron turned to Andre with a sincere apology. "What's your birthday though? I'm not gonna let Jake miss it."
Andre raised a surprised eyebrow at Aaron as he stifled a laugh. "July 23rd."
"No fuckin' way!" Aaron nearly fell out of the chair. "I'm the 22nd!"
"Aye, yessir."
Jake watched the two bond over birthdays with a ridiculous smile. A room full of introverts and Aaron had somehow managed to make himself the loudest extrovert imaginable. Katherine had always been the exact opposite, which somehow made more sense than Aaron initiating conversation with everyone in the building he had met so far. Andre actually smiled with Aaron's dumbassery whereas Tyler had politely nodded and went back about his business as they passed him in the hallway. Some small voice in the back of Jake's head prayed that no one else could hear his voice through the door because there was one person Jake did not want his loud-mouthed best friend talking to, and that was Connor.
God, please don't let us run into Connor.
"Whatchu guys doing tonight?" Andre tapped out a text on his phone.
"Mm, no clue." Jake sighed. "Probably finding something to eat and crashing. He forgot to bring beer."
"My girlfriend's brother's frat is throwing a party if you wanted to come."
This piqued Aaron's interest immediately. "Really?"
"No." Jake cut him off.
"Why not?" Aaron scoffed.
"Last thing I need is you cracking your head open in someone's pool."
"There's no pools, that's just on TV." Andre mumbled.
Not helping, dude.
"See, it'll be fun."
Aaron had slid his feet off of the desk, now leaning forward on his knees expectantly waiting for the moment Jake would agree. And damn him for knowing that he would. Jake knew his idiot had made up his mind already about going and if he didn't agree now Aaron would be calling him a grump-ass for the rest of the night.
"I don't know."
"It's pretty tame for a beginners party, nobody's gotten alcohol poisoning there yet." Andre tried convincing Jake of its safety in any way he could, but that didn't make it any less daunting.
He only frequented parties at home for one of two reasons: because he felt socially obligated, or because he was on babysitting duty. This particular party elicited neither of those conditions because he didn't know anyone there, and Aaron didn't know where it was to stumble off to. Refusing it would've been easy, but Aaron would have never let him live it down, and he did invite him here to spend time with him—whatever unfortunate events that entailed.
Whatever.
"Baby's first party." Aaron grinned, as if reading his mind.
"Oh, fuck off." Jake grumbled.
"Come on, Holmes. Pleaseee..."
"God, whatever. Fine."
Aaron's eyebrow etched a question. "Yes?"
"Yes."
"Fuck yeah, let's go boys!"
"You blackout, I'm leaving you there." Jake pointed to him with a warning finger.
Aaron surrendered his hands. "I won't even drink that much. I promise."
"You heard him." Jake looked over to Andre. "Help me keep him to it."
"Alright." Andre surrendered his hands the same way Aaron did.
Aaron tapped his fingers out on the desk excitedly with his endorsement and Jake forced himself not to smile—which was a task harder than he expected. His mother had always been right about one thing: Aaron Keller was a bad influence. But damned if Jake didn't think he was immune to it.
Apparently not immune enough because here he was, eighteen years spent lingering at Aaron's side, letting him drag him into one more something. One more party, one more fight, one more bad idea that Jake spent the morning after regretting. But tomorrow morning, Aaron would be waking up on his floor with a hangover and a McDonald's craving, and one more time, Jake would drag him through recovery with fake annoyance and a knowing smile.