Who Could Ask For Any More? - Part Five (ii) - January
Title: Who Could Ask For Any More?
Part: Five (ii)
Word Count: 4,486
Previous Parts: Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five (i)
~
At some point around eleven, Josh and Armie spear hotdogs onto pokers to cook over the fire, along with their new best buddy, Justin, who's on his way to being ridiculously wasted. Things also seem to be going extremely well between Joe and Emma, who are sat close together, literally, like lovebirds.
Jesse, however, is sat alone on the other side of the clearing, because Andrew hasn't spoken to him in just over two hours. Jesse had asked him what was wrong, but he just got up and went to sit in the tent that the pair of them are meant to be sharing over the weekend, where he's been ever since. Jesse cracks open his fifth beer.
The fact that Andrew’s first mix CD is blaring from Emma’s stereo is not doing much to help proceedings either -ironically, that damn We Are Scientists song is currently playing- if anything, it makes Jesse want to just get up and run away from this problem that he has no idea how to fix or deal with.
Jesse truly doesn’t understand why Andrew has made such a big deal about him drinking, why he’s all of sudden got so mad at him. It’s making his chest ache and the back of his throat hurt. Everything had been going so ridiculously well up until a few hours ago, and now the self-deprecating part of him -which is, after all, a very dominant part- is telling him that this is all his fault, whilst a second -much smaller- part of him is saying that Andrew's being an idiot and Jesse should just ignore him. Guess which part is winning?
On top of all of this, Jesse’s a little tipsy, and not in the good way because every body else seems to be having a whale of a time whilst he's sat wallowing in his own undeserved misery. All of those clichéd high school movies he'd watched with his sister over the holidays had lied to him, drinking is not always fun.
Armie, Josh and Justin have stuffed their severely burnt hotdogs into buns, and are now talking about one of the few topics of conversation that is universally interesting to all heterosexual teenage males. Girls.
"Dude, seriously," Armie says through a mouthful of food. "There's this girl-" he swallows "-Elizabeth, in my English class. She is like, so beautiful. I can't even- She's like..."
"Aww, look at Armie, getting all mushy," Josh laughs, shoving his friend with his shoulder.
"Fuck you," Armie replies, looking down at the leaf covered earth to hide his blushing. "I'm totally gonna ask her to prom."
Jesse pouts, on the verge of tears. Why is it that whenever something starts to go even a little bit right for him, he inevitably fucks it up? When he looks back up, he finds Justin staring at him with an expression of great concern on his face. So, a half-empty bottle of vodka in one hand, and a half-eaten hotdog into the other, Justin gets to his feet with great difficulty, and marches on over to Jesse.
“Oh hey there Jesse!” He cries, drawing out the final syllable of Jesse’s name as he sits down beside him. His glasses are all askew -they're like, this close close to falling from his face- and he's got ketchup smeared across his right cheek. “Why ya'll lookin' so down, man?"
“Andrew’s mad at me," Jesse replies thickly
Justin screws his face up with great confusion. “What?! Why?”
“Because I’m drinking tonight? Because I'm doing something that he isn't?“ Jesse shrugs, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know.”
"Oh damn," Justin's eyes dialate with worry. “Listen. I know that you, that you, that you like him, like a lot, but he’s being a douche right now. So I say, ignore him, don’t let him keep you from having a good time. He’ll get over it, he always does. Believe me, I know. I’ve lived with him for almost a year and a half.” Justin smiles wide, and hands Jesse his vodka, pointing to it. “Have some of that, you‘ll feel better.”
Jesse takes a deep gulp, and screws up his face at the sharp, stinging taste. It unnerves him a little to feel it slide down his throat. “You’re right. And to think, I was going to tell him that I loved him tonight.”
Justin literally splutters. “You were going to tell him what? I knew you were going to tell him that you had feelings for him but I didn't know you..."
Jesse doesn’t hear the rest, because he’s completely enamoured by Joe and Emma, their hands clasped tight in Joe’s lap, and their foreheads pressed together. It makes Jesse’s ache just a little at the sight of Joe, blushing and averting his eyes as he speaks words that Jesse is unable to hear. Emma bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut with glee, before, well, before Joe leans in.
And kisses her.
Jesse feels a little happier for the first time in three hours, because life couldn’t get any better for his best friend. He’s not at all jealous like he had thought he would be. Jealous of the fact that everything has gone perfectly for Joe, whilst Andrew's sulking in a tent like a five year old over something totally irrational. Okay, Jesse is kind of jealous, like maybe ten percent jealous, but mostly, he's happy for Joe. And Emma.
They break apart, smiling at each other for a few seconds before Emma rests her head on Joe’s shoulder. He looks at Jesse with a cheek splitting grin on his face, looking as though he’s won the lottery, been accepted onto the Yankees, and landed a part in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two, all at the same time. This is the best night of his life, and Jesse can’t help but feel that.
But, what about Justin? One thing that those high-school movies had right? The fact that teenage relationships are fucked up and extremely complicated.
Jesse turns to look at Justin, expecting to see him crying or to have at least stormed off. Justin’s still there though, smiling at Joe and Emma in the same way that a proud parent would. Justin's not that drunk, he must have some idea of what's going on.
“You’re not upset?” Jesse asks, genuinely confused.
“No, not at all, I’m like, so happy for them, like you wouldn’t even know. Why would I be upset?” Justin chuckles.
Jesse looks around, as if searching for someone to back him up, then looks back to Justin. “You like Emma too.”
“Oh that.” Justin smirks, taking his vodka back. “I don’t have a crush on Emma, that was just a cover up.”
“A cover up?” Jesse says incredulously. “For what?”
“Uh, well. You know I take dance lessons? Well, I’m kind of desperate to become a professional.” Justin leans forward, right into Jesse’s face. “I’d join a cheesy boy band if that meant I could dance for a living. Except, my Dad and my brothers, they're kind of like these testosterone filled macho guys, and they’d totally disapprove of that career choice. So I, like, I asked Emma if she’d be okay with me starting a rumour that I had a crush on her and that I only went to dance class to be close to her. Totally not true, Emma’s like, she’s like a little sister, I’d never look at her like that. So this way, I can still dance, and my Dad won‘t accuse me of being gay.”
“Oh Justin. That’s terrible. You’re just like Billy Elliot,” Jesse chuckles a little, then his face drops. He turns to look at Justin, eyes wide with impending discovery. “Oh my fucking god. That’s why Armie calls you Billy, isn’t it?”
Justin screws his face up as if he‘s just been caught doing something terribly embarrassing. “You got it, just don’t tell anyone.”
“Okay,” Jesse nods, looking at the fire, “but how does Armie know?”
“He walked in on me watching the music video for Step By Step by New Kids On The Block, I know the entire dance rountine by heart, and he said that no guy that took dance lessons solely for a girl would get so into it. I couldn’t think of a good excuse, so I kind of had to, you know, tell him,” Justin chuckles brightly, taking another sip of his drink.
It was in that moment that Jesse fully believed everything Armie had said down at the lake last month, about him never really disliking Justin -because if he did, Jesse is sure that he would have announced this whole Justin being into dancing thing to the world.
“That is brilliant," Jesse says with all the sincerity in the world. "So, uh, who was it that you wanted to impress with your dancing? I figured it was Emma.”
"Talent scout," Justin says. "Miss. Tyler, the dance teacher, she says I could really go far. In a couple of months she's got this guy from a talent agency coming down to watch me."
"Oh wow! That is amazing! I'm so proud of you, Justin," Jesse grins with admiration. “I gotta say, I’m relieved. I spent this entire time thinking that you both liked her, and I knew that Joe was going to tell her tonight, and… I don’t even know.”
“It’s all done now, they’re together. I guess I’d better just stop with the rumour, and tell my Dad already,” Justin shrugs a single shoulder.
“It’s up to you, man.” Jesse blinks a few times, and downs the remainder of his beer, figuring that he might as well drown his sorrows.
***
“I gotta pee, be right back.”
Jesse is drunk. Like -everything is hilarious, everyone is my best friend, ‘I love everyone in this bar!’- really drunk. Every single part of his body feels thick and heavy, yet oddly energised. Everything swims, and floats, and it’s kind of nice. So right now, the abrupt announcement that he needs to urinate seems entirely commonplace and not at all inappropriate.
“Jesse Adam Eisenberg, you are not going into those woods alone in your state,” Emma says sternly,
“Oh she middle-named you!” Armie cries, from his position on the ground, laying back and staring up at the sky. He laughs, “you know she’s pissed when she uses your middle name, am I right, J-Man? Joshua Charles Pence?”
Josh giggles profusely. “Armand Douglas Hammer! Seriously, what kind of a name is that?”
"Dude, your name is Armand?" Jesse asks, swaying.
Emma ignores all of them, and lifts her face from Joe’s shoulder. She turns to look at -well- at her new boyfriend. “Joe, could you take him please?”
“Why me?” Joe raises an eyebrow, and eyes Jesse in such a way that it makes Jesse feel a little self conscious. He worries that maybe he’s already peed himself and hasn’t noticed in all his drunkenness. He checks his crotch just in case. All clear.
“I very much doubt that Jesse wants me to watch him pee, and you’re the most sober of the guys, apart from Andrew who‘s acting like a little bitch." Ah, so even Emma has noticed. "So go,” Emma continues. As an afterthought, she smiles and adds, "please.”
For a moment, he tries to stare her down, to challenge her, but after a few seconds, he gives up, and she grins triumphantly. “Fine," Joe says, getting up. "Let’s get this over with.”
His hand encircles Jesse’s skinny wrist, and Joe helps him up slowly, flinging Jesse’s arm over his shoulders to keep him from falling pathetically like a rag doll. “Come on, you.”
“I can walk just fine, thank you,” Jesse slurs, falling into Joe‘s side.
Joe nods only once, smirking. “Doubtful.”
Jesse smiles placidly as they enter the trees, following the trail that Josh had oh so successfully carved out earlier on. After about fifteen seconds of quiet, punctuated only by his random outbursts of giggling, Jesse says, “Hey, you remember when we were eight and we were playing explorers and-”
“You fell over in the woods? Yeah, I remember,” Joe smiles, dragging Jesse onwards.
Jesse looks at Joe, and just stares at him for a couple of seconds as they walk, like he hasn’t seen him in years and has forgotten what he looks like. “You know, Joe, even though you did leave me for another school -You big cheater!- you’re still my best friend. I don’t tell you that much, but you are.” Jesse places a hand on Joe’s chest, slapping with each word. “You‘re - my - best - friend.”
“I know buddy, you’re my best friend too,” Joe says slowly, as if speaking to a sleepy child, or that kid from YouTube that‘s still high after having a tooth pulled.
"Hey, why is Andrew angry with you?" Joe asks after a few more seconds of quiet.
"I don't know," Jesse pouts.
They reach the edge of the woods, right by Emma’s truck, where the earth is dry and dusty.
Joe removes his arm and places Jesse gently into the standing position. “Right, here we are. Now come on, get it out, and get it over with,” Joe says.
So, with Joe stood directly behind him, Jesse whips it out, and pees right there, at the side of the road. He sways a little as he does it, and Joe kind of wants to put a hand out to steady him, but at the same time, he kind of doesn’t. Thirty seconds pass -during which Jesse whistles the entirety of The Saints Go Marching In- and he’s done.
“Empty?” Joe asks.
Jesse goes to reply, but then - “Oh shit.” He places a hand on his stomach, because it’s churning violently, and this time, it’s not from the nerves. Nope, he‘s definitely not empty, but he‘s going to be. “Oh shit.”
“What?” Joe’s eyes are wide.
“Oh shit, shit, shit.” Every drop of alcohol that hasn’t already left Jesse's body is on its way up his throat at break neck speed, yelling ‘Prepare to exit teenager in 3... in 2...’
“What?” Joe repeats worriedly, stepping closer.
“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”
And, well, you know what happens next.
“Brilliant,” Joe says bluntly, eyeing the splatters of vomit on his new Nike low-tops. “I have watched entirely too many fluids exit your body today.”
“Oh fuck,” Jesse groans towards the ground, eyes closed to avoid looking at the remnants of his partly digested lunch. He has one hand pressed against the door of Emma's truck, whilst the other clutches at his left knee. Damn. He should have listened to Andrew.
“You okay?” Joe asks, placing a tentative hand on Jesse’s back.
“No, but I’m definitely not drunk anymore.”
“I’ll say,” Joe wrinkles his nose at the smell. “Jesus Christ, Jess. You didn’t drink that much.”
Only six beers, a few mouthfuls of Justin’s vodka, and a couple Tequila shots that Armie had been passing around the camp at midmight when it officially became January 31st; Justin's nineteenth birthday.
Slowly, Jesse‘s returns to his full height, placing both hands in his hair. “Apparently, I’m a lightweight.”
“More like a featherweight," Joe chuckles, patting Jesse's shoulder. "Come on, let’s go back. I think Emma brought some water and Tylenol along, I’ll get you some.”
“Thanks. Congrats on you and Emma by the way. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks man, I appreciate it. Seriously, even you getting puke on my shoes couldn’t get me down right now.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Jesse smiles apologetically.
“You should have done The Puke Dragon though, that would have made it a little more bearable.”
Jesse frowns hard. “The what?”
“You know?” Joe stops abruptly, right in the middle of the woods, bends over, and starts flapping his arms up and down at his sides, pretending to vomit. All the while, Jesse stares at him with a vague mix of disbelief and confusion on his face, until Joe returns to his full height, grinning. “The Puke Dragon.”
Jesse shakes his head, and resumes walking back to camp, trying not to laugh. “That is so stupid.”
From behind him, Joe laughs merrily. “But hilarious all the same?”
Jesse clutches at his head and continues to walk, even without a light, it’s not too difficult to follow the trail back to camp, but Jesse’s glad that Joe’s here, because he would have no chance of getting back on his own with how he’s feeling right now. The couple of hours of partial drunkenness kind of made Jesse forget about the whole Andrew situation, but now? It’s all that he can think about, about how as soon as he gets back to camp, Andrew’ll probably be there ready to say “I told you so.”
Except, Andrew’s not at camp, he’s right here. Well, he’s about five feet away from Jesse and Joe. It seems that he has followed them all the way out here. His face is stern and unamused, his usually soft brown eyes look black in the dark.
“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Joe asks happily.
Andrew doesn‘t look at him. In fact, Andrew doesn't seem to be looking at anyone, his eyes are glazed over and unfocused, like he's just woken up. He speaks very slowly. “Could I... could I speak with Jess alone, please?”
"Are you drunk, Andrew?” Joe asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Maybe," Andrew slurs.
Jesse's hands ball up into tight little fists. What a hypocrite. All that sadness and rejection he'd been feeling before, well, that's just turned into full blown anger.
"I'd - I'd like to talk to Jesse. On my own. Please," Andrew repeats.
Joe looks greatly affronted, and for just a moment, Jesse thinks that he's going to start yelling at Andrew, start telling him off or something. He doesn't. He just nods, points over his shoulder, and says. “If you get lost, just follow the trail back to camp, yeah? See you in a bit.”
Joe walks away, leaving Andrew and Jesse alone in the woods, staring at one another, Spaghetti-Western, showdown-style.
“You just threw up, didn’t you?” Andrew says maliciously.
Jesse rolls his eyes, entirely not in the mood for this. “Yeah, so?”
“See what that shit does to you?”
“So I had a few drinks, who cares?” Jesse says with a lot of uncharacteristic anger in his voice. “Emma said earlier that you never usually pass up a drink, when I tutored you at the lake a few months back you had a hangover. And just look at yourself now! Why are you being such a hypocrite all of sudden? So it's okay for you to have a few drinks, but it's not okay for me? Sorry, I must have lost my copy of The Rules."
Andrew stumbles forward a couple of steps, swinging an empty bottle of God knows what as he speaks. "I'm drinking because... I'm annoyed okay? You're just doing it so you can be like everyone else."
"What?" Jesse cries, gaping. "You’re being so irrational. Who cares if I want to be like everyone else? It doesn't and shouldn't affect you.”
"I don't want you to change, Jesse," Andrew yells. "I like you like this."
"What? You like it when I'm pissed off at you?" Jesse moves further forward so that he can see Andrew's face a little better in the limited light. "Because I'm pretty sure that this has never happened before."
Andrew flinches at every word, as though Jesse is shoving needles into his skin each time he speaks. "No!" He whines, dropping his bottle into the shrubbery below.
"Then what?" Jesse yells. "Andrew, can you just try your best to explain this to me because I'm not getting it. At all."
Andrew stares at Jesse through half lidded eyes, looking as though he could burst into tears at any moment. Jesse wants to feel bad, but he doesn't, because Andrew's being a first class idiot, and the post-vomit head ache isn't helping things either. "I want you to still be like how you... how you were when you, when you first came here. "
"Not this again!" Jesse has reached breaking point, he's fuming. "I haven't fucking changed! When will you just drop this?"
Jesse loves Andrew, loves him with his whole heart, and every day he thanks God that he came sprinting into his life, but sometimes loving someone and liking someone are mutually exclusive cencepts, because right now, Jesse really doesn't like Andrew. Not in any way, shape, or form. He just wants to be left alone.
"I can't deal with you right now, you're drunk." Jesse turns, and goes to walk back to camp.
But Andrew grabs his arm with a shaky, "St-op."
"What?!" Jesse wrenches his arm free, and upon turning, he finds that Andrew's in tears.
And just like that, his anger is replaced with guilt, which is stupid, because Andrew's the one in the wrong here, he's the irrational one, he's the one trying to force Jesse into being something that he doesn't want to be. It's just, Andrew's face -the trembling lower lip and the puffy eyes that can still be seen, even in the dark- he looks as though his entire world is about to fall to pieces.
Jesse feels terrible.
"I'm s-orry," Andrew places two shaking, gloved hands on either side of Jesse's face and just... holds him there. "You make me so happy because, because... because you're everything I wish I could" - he sniffs once- "be."
"What?" Jesse whispers, so quietly that the sound could have been stolen in the wind.
Andrew steps forward, just a couple of steps, until their noses are almost touching, until Jesse can feel the scratchy wool of Andrew's beanie pressed into his forehead, until he can smell the alcohol on his breath. Jesse worries for a moment that Andrew's going to kiss him, because he doesn't want that now, not like this, both of them deserve better.
"You're so... fucking beautiful," Andrew says. For all of two seconds, that is the most wonderful thing Jesse has ever heard -he's trembling in Andrew's hands, he closes his eyes and now he's crying too- but then Andrew says something else, something that makes Jesse feel as though everything around him has collapsed into nothingness in the best possible way, makes him feel as though he could die right now and everything would be fine.
Andrew says, "I love you so much."
Jesse gasps lightly, and opens his eyes. Andrew may have entirely too much alcohol running through his blood stream, but just by looking at him, Jesse knows that he means it, and that this isn't just some drunken babbling that Andrew's going to regret tomorrow morning. Jesse knows this, from the way that Andrew looks at him like a child seeing the stars out in the night sky for the very first time, from the way that Andrew holds him as if Jesse would break at the slightest touch.
"I love you too," Jesse replies, just manages to choke out through the pure unadulterated happiness spreading through his entire being.
Andrew slowly runs his thumbs across Jesse's cheeks to wipe the tears away. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm so sorry for getting mad at you for like, no reason. I'm an idiot, I'm so sorry Jesse."
"It's okay," Jesse says weakly, smiling a little. "It's okay."
Andrew smiles too. "It's just you're so precious to me, Jess, and I can't stand the thought of anything changing you, or corrupting you or messing up how... how perfect you are. You, you remind me of everything good in the world. You're so... free in all the ways that I'm not. You're so pure, and innocent, and you -when I'm with you- I feel like a little kid again, not in a weird creepy way, but like..." he presses his lips to Jesse's forehead "...like there's nothing to worry about, like I can do anything and be anything I want be, like anything's possible, and that's... it's amazing because I never really got to be a child."
"Andrew," Jesse says breathlessly. "I'm never gonna change, I'll always be right here."
Except, it seems as though Andrew's no longer talking to Jesse, but to himself. "I did school work at school, I did it before school, after school, at weekends I... I had a -a math tutor come and sit with me for three hours. I never got to be a kid. I never got dirty, I never made mud-pies, I never went on a bike ride, I never had a sleepover, or a birthday party, and, and fuck... I never even got to climb a tree.”
Jesse frowns as Andrew takes a hand away from his face, and turns to stare up at the large Oak tree standing a few feet away, smiling wistfully. "I never even got to climb a tree."
Jesse feels an inexplicable surge of panic. “Andrew?"
He's not listening at all now, he steps away from Jesse, grabs hold of a low-slung branch in his gloved hands and hoists himself up onto it.
"Andrew," Jesse says worriedly. "Andrew, what are you doing?"
"I'm climbing a tree!" He calls gleefully, voice echoing in the empty air as he lifts a leg to move onto a second limb of the tree. "For the first time!"
“No, maybe you should wait.” Jesse steps forward, speaking softly in the hope that it'll be more effective than yelling. “You can't even see where you're going. Come on, just get down please." He's grasping at straws now, anything to get Andrew down from there. "Let’s go back to camp and talk.”
He doesn’t.
Andrew just keeps on climbing, further and further upwards until Jesse can't even see him anymore. From this point, all that can be seen are Andrew's insubstantial shadows slipping through the copious amount of branches, all interwoven, criss-crossing, looking very brittle. Jesse’s heart is beating in terror and all he can concentrate on is getting Andrew down from there and making sure that he’s safe and telling him that he loves him over and over again, and have him say it back. He can fully understand how Andrew feels because the thought of Andrew getting hurt in any way actually sickens Jesse to his very stomach.
Jesse cranes his neck painfully in the hope of catching sight of him again, and he's there, about twenty feet up.
“Oh my god, Jess! I can see our camp!” Andrew yells wildly, stepping out onto a particularly thin, dubious looking branch.
“Andrew. Andrew, please get down! You're scaring me!” Jesse cries, on the verge of tears again. “Please! Just, you’ve been drinking and it’s dark and-”
The branch cracks. Breaks.
Andrew falls.
~
Part Six
Part: Five (ii)
Word Count: 4,486
Previous Parts: Prologue | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five (i)
~
At some point around eleven, Josh and Armie spear hotdogs onto pokers to cook over the fire, along with their new best buddy, Justin, who's on his way to being ridiculously wasted. Things also seem to be going extremely well between Joe and Emma, who are sat close together, literally, like lovebirds.
Jesse, however, is sat alone on the other side of the clearing, because Andrew hasn't spoken to him in just over two hours. Jesse had asked him what was wrong, but he just got up and went to sit in the tent that the pair of them are meant to be sharing over the weekend, where he's been ever since. Jesse cracks open his fifth beer.
The fact that Andrew’s first mix CD is blaring from Emma’s stereo is not doing much to help proceedings either -ironically, that damn We Are Scientists song is currently playing- if anything, it makes Jesse want to just get up and run away from this problem that he has no idea how to fix or deal with.
Jesse truly doesn’t understand why Andrew has made such a big deal about him drinking, why he’s all of sudden got so mad at him. It’s making his chest ache and the back of his throat hurt. Everything had been going so ridiculously well up until a few hours ago, and now the self-deprecating part of him -which is, after all, a very dominant part- is telling him that this is all his fault, whilst a second -much smaller- part of him is saying that Andrew's being an idiot and Jesse should just ignore him. Guess which part is winning?
On top of all of this, Jesse’s a little tipsy, and not in the good way because every body else seems to be having a whale of a time whilst he's sat wallowing in his own undeserved misery. All of those clichéd high school movies he'd watched with his sister over the holidays had lied to him, drinking is not always fun.
Armie, Josh and Justin have stuffed their severely burnt hotdogs into buns, and are now talking about one of the few topics of conversation that is universally interesting to all heterosexual teenage males. Girls.
"Dude, seriously," Armie says through a mouthful of food. "There's this girl-" he swallows "-Elizabeth, in my English class. She is like, so beautiful. I can't even- She's like..."
"Aww, look at Armie, getting all mushy," Josh laughs, shoving his friend with his shoulder.
"Fuck you," Armie replies, looking down at the leaf covered earth to hide his blushing. "I'm totally gonna ask her to prom."
Jesse pouts, on the verge of tears. Why is it that whenever something starts to go even a little bit right for him, he inevitably fucks it up? When he looks back up, he finds Justin staring at him with an expression of great concern on his face. So, a half-empty bottle of vodka in one hand, and a half-eaten hotdog into the other, Justin gets to his feet with great difficulty, and marches on over to Jesse.
“Oh hey there Jesse!” He cries, drawing out the final syllable of Jesse’s name as he sits down beside him. His glasses are all askew -they're like, this close close to falling from his face- and he's got ketchup smeared across his right cheek. “Why ya'll lookin' so down, man?"
“Andrew’s mad at me," Jesse replies thickly
Justin screws his face up with great confusion. “What?! Why?”
“Because I’m drinking tonight? Because I'm doing something that he isn't?“ Jesse shrugs, shaking his head. “I honestly don’t know.”
"Oh damn," Justin's eyes dialate with worry. “Listen. I know that you, that you, that you like him, like a lot, but he’s being a douche right now. So I say, ignore him, don’t let him keep you from having a good time. He’ll get over it, he always does. Believe me, I know. I’ve lived with him for almost a year and a half.” Justin smiles wide, and hands Jesse his vodka, pointing to it. “Have some of that, you‘ll feel better.”
Jesse takes a deep gulp, and screws up his face at the sharp, stinging taste. It unnerves him a little to feel it slide down his throat. “You’re right. And to think, I was going to tell him that I loved him tonight.”
Justin literally splutters. “You were going to tell him what? I knew you were going to tell him that you had feelings for him but I didn't know you..."
Jesse doesn’t hear the rest, because he’s completely enamoured by Joe and Emma, their hands clasped tight in Joe’s lap, and their foreheads pressed together. It makes Jesse’s ache just a little at the sight of Joe, blushing and averting his eyes as he speaks words that Jesse is unable to hear. Emma bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut with glee, before, well, before Joe leans in.
And kisses her.
Jesse feels a little happier for the first time in three hours, because life couldn’t get any better for his best friend. He’s not at all jealous like he had thought he would be. Jealous of the fact that everything has gone perfectly for Joe, whilst Andrew's sulking in a tent like a five year old over something totally irrational. Okay, Jesse is kind of jealous, like maybe ten percent jealous, but mostly, he's happy for Joe. And Emma.
They break apart, smiling at each other for a few seconds before Emma rests her head on Joe’s shoulder. He looks at Jesse with a cheek splitting grin on his face, looking as though he’s won the lottery, been accepted onto the Yankees, and landed a part in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part Two, all at the same time. This is the best night of his life, and Jesse can’t help but feel that.
But, what about Justin? One thing that those high-school movies had right? The fact that teenage relationships are fucked up and extremely complicated.
Jesse turns to look at Justin, expecting to see him crying or to have at least stormed off. Justin’s still there though, smiling at Joe and Emma in the same way that a proud parent would. Justin's not that drunk, he must have some idea of what's going on.
“You’re not upset?” Jesse asks, genuinely confused.
“No, not at all, I’m like, so happy for them, like you wouldn’t even know. Why would I be upset?” Justin chuckles.
Jesse looks around, as if searching for someone to back him up, then looks back to Justin. “You like Emma too.”
“Oh that.” Justin smirks, taking his vodka back. “I don’t have a crush on Emma, that was just a cover up.”
“A cover up?” Jesse says incredulously. “For what?”
“Uh, well. You know I take dance lessons? Well, I’m kind of desperate to become a professional.” Justin leans forward, right into Jesse’s face. “I’d join a cheesy boy band if that meant I could dance for a living. Except, my Dad and my brothers, they're kind of like these testosterone filled macho guys, and they’d totally disapprove of that career choice. So I, like, I asked Emma if she’d be okay with me starting a rumour that I had a crush on her and that I only went to dance class to be close to her. Totally not true, Emma’s like, she’s like a little sister, I’d never look at her like that. So this way, I can still dance, and my Dad won‘t accuse me of being gay.”
“Oh Justin. That’s terrible. You’re just like Billy Elliot,” Jesse chuckles a little, then his face drops. He turns to look at Justin, eyes wide with impending discovery. “Oh my fucking god. That’s why Armie calls you Billy, isn’t it?”
Justin screws his face up as if he‘s just been caught doing something terribly embarrassing. “You got it, just don’t tell anyone.”
“Okay,” Jesse nods, looking at the fire, “but how does Armie know?”
“He walked in on me watching the music video for Step By Step by New Kids On The Block, I know the entire dance rountine by heart, and he said that no guy that took dance lessons solely for a girl would get so into it. I couldn’t think of a good excuse, so I kind of had to, you know, tell him,” Justin chuckles brightly, taking another sip of his drink.
It was in that moment that Jesse fully believed everything Armie had said down at the lake last month, about him never really disliking Justin -because if he did, Jesse is sure that he would have announced this whole Justin being into dancing thing to the world.
“That is brilliant," Jesse says with all the sincerity in the world. "So, uh, who was it that you wanted to impress with your dancing? I figured it was Emma.”
"Talent scout," Justin says. "Miss. Tyler, the dance teacher, she says I could really go far. In a couple of months she's got this guy from a talent agency coming down to watch me."
"Oh wow! That is amazing! I'm so proud of you, Justin," Jesse grins with admiration. “I gotta say, I’m relieved. I spent this entire time thinking that you both liked her, and I knew that Joe was going to tell her tonight, and… I don’t even know.”
“It’s all done now, they’re together. I guess I’d better just stop with the rumour, and tell my Dad already,” Justin shrugs a single shoulder.
“It’s up to you, man.” Jesse blinks a few times, and downs the remainder of his beer, figuring that he might as well drown his sorrows.
***
“I gotta pee, be right back.”
Jesse is drunk. Like -everything is hilarious, everyone is my best friend, ‘I love everyone in this bar!’- really drunk. Every single part of his body feels thick and heavy, yet oddly energised. Everything swims, and floats, and it’s kind of nice. So right now, the abrupt announcement that he needs to urinate seems entirely commonplace and not at all inappropriate.
“Jesse Adam Eisenberg, you are not going into those woods alone in your state,” Emma says sternly,
“Oh she middle-named you!” Armie cries, from his position on the ground, laying back and staring up at the sky. He laughs, “you know she’s pissed when she uses your middle name, am I right, J-Man? Joshua Charles Pence?”
Josh giggles profusely. “Armand Douglas Hammer! Seriously, what kind of a name is that?”
"Dude, your name is Armand?" Jesse asks, swaying.
Emma ignores all of them, and lifts her face from Joe’s shoulder. She turns to look at -well- at her new boyfriend. “Joe, could you take him please?”
“Why me?” Joe raises an eyebrow, and eyes Jesse in such a way that it makes Jesse feel a little self conscious. He worries that maybe he’s already peed himself and hasn’t noticed in all his drunkenness. He checks his crotch just in case. All clear.
“I very much doubt that Jesse wants me to watch him pee, and you’re the most sober of the guys, apart from Andrew who‘s acting like a little bitch." Ah, so even Emma has noticed. "So go,” Emma continues. As an afterthought, she smiles and adds, "please.”
For a moment, he tries to stare her down, to challenge her, but after a few seconds, he gives up, and she grins triumphantly. “Fine," Joe says, getting up. "Let’s get this over with.”
His hand encircles Jesse’s skinny wrist, and Joe helps him up slowly, flinging Jesse’s arm over his shoulders to keep him from falling pathetically like a rag doll. “Come on, you.”
“I can walk just fine, thank you,” Jesse slurs, falling into Joe‘s side.
Joe nods only once, smirking. “Doubtful.”
Jesse smiles placidly as they enter the trees, following the trail that Josh had oh so successfully carved out earlier on. After about fifteen seconds of quiet, punctuated only by his random outbursts of giggling, Jesse says, “Hey, you remember when we were eight and we were playing explorers and-”
“You fell over in the woods? Yeah, I remember,” Joe smiles, dragging Jesse onwards.
Jesse looks at Joe, and just stares at him for a couple of seconds as they walk, like he hasn’t seen him in years and has forgotten what he looks like. “You know, Joe, even though you did leave me for another school -You big cheater!- you’re still my best friend. I don’t tell you that much, but you are.” Jesse places a hand on Joe’s chest, slapping with each word. “You‘re - my - best - friend.”
“I know buddy, you’re my best friend too,” Joe says slowly, as if speaking to a sleepy child, or that kid from YouTube that‘s still high after having a tooth pulled.
"Hey, why is Andrew angry with you?" Joe asks after a few more seconds of quiet.
"I don't know," Jesse pouts.
They reach the edge of the woods, right by Emma’s truck, where the earth is dry and dusty.
Joe removes his arm and places Jesse gently into the standing position. “Right, here we are. Now come on, get it out, and get it over with,” Joe says.
So, with Joe stood directly behind him, Jesse whips it out, and pees right there, at the side of the road. He sways a little as he does it, and Joe kind of wants to put a hand out to steady him, but at the same time, he kind of doesn’t. Thirty seconds pass -during which Jesse whistles the entirety of The Saints Go Marching In- and he’s done.
“Empty?” Joe asks.
Jesse goes to reply, but then - “Oh shit.” He places a hand on his stomach, because it’s churning violently, and this time, it’s not from the nerves. Nope, he‘s definitely not empty, but he‘s going to be. “Oh shit.”
“What?” Joe’s eyes are wide.
“Oh shit, shit, shit.” Every drop of alcohol that hasn’t already left Jesse's body is on its way up his throat at break neck speed, yelling ‘Prepare to exit teenager in 3... in 2...’
“What?” Joe repeats worriedly, stepping closer.
“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”
And, well, you know what happens next.
“Brilliant,” Joe says bluntly, eyeing the splatters of vomit on his new Nike low-tops. “I have watched entirely too many fluids exit your body today.”
“Oh fuck,” Jesse groans towards the ground, eyes closed to avoid looking at the remnants of his partly digested lunch. He has one hand pressed against the door of Emma's truck, whilst the other clutches at his left knee. Damn. He should have listened to Andrew.
“You okay?” Joe asks, placing a tentative hand on Jesse’s back.
“No, but I’m definitely not drunk anymore.”
“I’ll say,” Joe wrinkles his nose at the smell. “Jesus Christ, Jess. You didn’t drink that much.”
Only six beers, a few mouthfuls of Justin’s vodka, and a couple Tequila shots that Armie had been passing around the camp at midmight when it officially became January 31st; Justin's nineteenth birthday.
Slowly, Jesse‘s returns to his full height, placing both hands in his hair. “Apparently, I’m a lightweight.”
“More like a featherweight," Joe chuckles, patting Jesse's shoulder. "Come on, let’s go back. I think Emma brought some water and Tylenol along, I’ll get you some.”
“Thanks. Congrats on you and Emma by the way. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks man, I appreciate it. Seriously, even you getting puke on my shoes couldn’t get me down right now.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Jesse smiles apologetically.
“You should have done The Puke Dragon though, that would have made it a little more bearable.”
Jesse frowns hard. “The what?”
“You know?” Joe stops abruptly, right in the middle of the woods, bends over, and starts flapping his arms up and down at his sides, pretending to vomit. All the while, Jesse stares at him with a vague mix of disbelief and confusion on his face, until Joe returns to his full height, grinning. “The Puke Dragon.”
Jesse shakes his head, and resumes walking back to camp, trying not to laugh. “That is so stupid.”
From behind him, Joe laughs merrily. “But hilarious all the same?”
Jesse clutches at his head and continues to walk, even without a light, it’s not too difficult to follow the trail back to camp, but Jesse’s glad that Joe’s here, because he would have no chance of getting back on his own with how he’s feeling right now. The couple of hours of partial drunkenness kind of made Jesse forget about the whole Andrew situation, but now? It’s all that he can think about, about how as soon as he gets back to camp, Andrew’ll probably be there ready to say “I told you so.”
Except, Andrew’s not at camp, he’s right here. Well, he’s about five feet away from Jesse and Joe. It seems that he has followed them all the way out here. His face is stern and unamused, his usually soft brown eyes look black in the dark.
“Hey man, what are you doing here?” Joe asks happily.
Andrew doesn‘t look at him. In fact, Andrew doesn't seem to be looking at anyone, his eyes are glazed over and unfocused, like he's just woken up. He speaks very slowly. “Could I... could I speak with Jess alone, please?”
"Are you drunk, Andrew?” Joe asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"Maybe," Andrew slurs.
Jesse's hands ball up into tight little fists. What a hypocrite. All that sadness and rejection he'd been feeling before, well, that's just turned into full blown anger.
"I'd - I'd like to talk to Jesse. On my own. Please," Andrew repeats.
Joe looks greatly affronted, and for just a moment, Jesse thinks that he's going to start yelling at Andrew, start telling him off or something. He doesn't. He just nods, points over his shoulder, and says. “If you get lost, just follow the trail back to camp, yeah? See you in a bit.”
Joe walks away, leaving Andrew and Jesse alone in the woods, staring at one another, Spaghetti-Western, showdown-style.
“You just threw up, didn’t you?” Andrew says maliciously.
Jesse rolls his eyes, entirely not in the mood for this. “Yeah, so?”
“See what that shit does to you?”
“So I had a few drinks, who cares?” Jesse says with a lot of uncharacteristic anger in his voice. “Emma said earlier that you never usually pass up a drink, when I tutored you at the lake a few months back you had a hangover. And just look at yourself now! Why are you being such a hypocrite all of sudden? So it's okay for you to have a few drinks, but it's not okay for me? Sorry, I must have lost my copy of The Rules."
Andrew stumbles forward a couple of steps, swinging an empty bottle of God knows what as he speaks. "I'm drinking because... I'm annoyed okay? You're just doing it so you can be like everyone else."
"What?" Jesse cries, gaping. "You’re being so irrational. Who cares if I want to be like everyone else? It doesn't and shouldn't affect you.”
"I don't want you to change, Jesse," Andrew yells. "I like you like this."
"What? You like it when I'm pissed off at you?" Jesse moves further forward so that he can see Andrew's face a little better in the limited light. "Because I'm pretty sure that this has never happened before."
Andrew flinches at every word, as though Jesse is shoving needles into his skin each time he speaks. "No!" He whines, dropping his bottle into the shrubbery below.
"Then what?" Jesse yells. "Andrew, can you just try your best to explain this to me because I'm not getting it. At all."
Andrew stares at Jesse through half lidded eyes, looking as though he could burst into tears at any moment. Jesse wants to feel bad, but he doesn't, because Andrew's being a first class idiot, and the post-vomit head ache isn't helping things either. "I want you to still be like how you... how you were when you, when you first came here. "
"Not this again!" Jesse has reached breaking point, he's fuming. "I haven't fucking changed! When will you just drop this?"
Jesse loves Andrew, loves him with his whole heart, and every day he thanks God that he came sprinting into his life, but sometimes loving someone and liking someone are mutually exclusive cencepts, because right now, Jesse really doesn't like Andrew. Not in any way, shape, or form. He just wants to be left alone.
"I can't deal with you right now, you're drunk." Jesse turns, and goes to walk back to camp.
But Andrew grabs his arm with a shaky, "St-op."
"What?!" Jesse wrenches his arm free, and upon turning, he finds that Andrew's in tears.
And just like that, his anger is replaced with guilt, which is stupid, because Andrew's the one in the wrong here, he's the irrational one, he's the one trying to force Jesse into being something that he doesn't want to be. It's just, Andrew's face -the trembling lower lip and the puffy eyes that can still be seen, even in the dark- he looks as though his entire world is about to fall to pieces.
Jesse feels terrible.
"I'm s-orry," Andrew places two shaking, gloved hands on either side of Jesse's face and just... holds him there. "You make me so happy because, because... because you're everything I wish I could" - he sniffs once- "be."
"What?" Jesse whispers, so quietly that the sound could have been stolen in the wind.
Andrew steps forward, just a couple of steps, until their noses are almost touching, until Jesse can feel the scratchy wool of Andrew's beanie pressed into his forehead, until he can smell the alcohol on his breath. Jesse worries for a moment that Andrew's going to kiss him, because he doesn't want that now, not like this, both of them deserve better.
"You're so... fucking beautiful," Andrew says. For all of two seconds, that is the most wonderful thing Jesse has ever heard -he's trembling in Andrew's hands, he closes his eyes and now he's crying too- but then Andrew says something else, something that makes Jesse feel as though everything around him has collapsed into nothingness in the best possible way, makes him feel as though he could die right now and everything would be fine.
Andrew says, "I love you so much."
Jesse gasps lightly, and opens his eyes. Andrew may have entirely too much alcohol running through his blood stream, but just by looking at him, Jesse knows that he means it, and that this isn't just some drunken babbling that Andrew's going to regret tomorrow morning. Jesse knows this, from the way that Andrew looks at him like a child seeing the stars out in the night sky for the very first time, from the way that Andrew holds him as if Jesse would break at the slightest touch.
"I love you too," Jesse replies, just manages to choke out through the pure unadulterated happiness spreading through his entire being.
Andrew slowly runs his thumbs across Jesse's cheeks to wipe the tears away. He shakes his head. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm so sorry for getting mad at you for like, no reason. I'm an idiot, I'm so sorry Jesse."
"It's okay," Jesse says weakly, smiling a little. "It's okay."
Andrew smiles too. "It's just you're so precious to me, Jess, and I can't stand the thought of anything changing you, or corrupting you or messing up how... how perfect you are. You, you remind me of everything good in the world. You're so... free in all the ways that I'm not. You're so pure, and innocent, and you -when I'm with you- I feel like a little kid again, not in a weird creepy way, but like..." he presses his lips to Jesse's forehead "...like there's nothing to worry about, like I can do anything and be anything I want be, like anything's possible, and that's... it's amazing because I never really got to be a child."
"Andrew," Jesse says breathlessly. "I'm never gonna change, I'll always be right here."
Except, it seems as though Andrew's no longer talking to Jesse, but to himself. "I did school work at school, I did it before school, after school, at weekends I... I had a -a math tutor come and sit with me for three hours. I never got to be a kid. I never got dirty, I never made mud-pies, I never went on a bike ride, I never had a sleepover, or a birthday party, and, and fuck... I never even got to climb a tree.”
Jesse frowns as Andrew takes a hand away from his face, and turns to stare up at the large Oak tree standing a few feet away, smiling wistfully. "I never even got to climb a tree."
Jesse feels an inexplicable surge of panic. “Andrew?"
He's not listening at all now, he steps away from Jesse, grabs hold of a low-slung branch in his gloved hands and hoists himself up onto it.
"Andrew," Jesse says worriedly. "Andrew, what are you doing?"
"I'm climbing a tree!" He calls gleefully, voice echoing in the empty air as he lifts a leg to move onto a second limb of the tree. "For the first time!"
“No, maybe you should wait.” Jesse steps forward, speaking softly in the hope that it'll be more effective than yelling. “You can't even see where you're going. Come on, just get down please." He's grasping at straws now, anything to get Andrew down from there. "Let’s go back to camp and talk.”
He doesn’t.
Andrew just keeps on climbing, further and further upwards until Jesse can't even see him anymore. From this point, all that can be seen are Andrew's insubstantial shadows slipping through the copious amount of branches, all interwoven, criss-crossing, looking very brittle. Jesse’s heart is beating in terror and all he can concentrate on is getting Andrew down from there and making sure that he’s safe and telling him that he loves him over and over again, and have him say it back. He can fully understand how Andrew feels because the thought of Andrew getting hurt in any way actually sickens Jesse to his very stomach.
Jesse cranes his neck painfully in the hope of catching sight of him again, and he's there, about twenty feet up.
“Oh my god, Jess! I can see our camp!” Andrew yells wildly, stepping out onto a particularly thin, dubious looking branch.
“Andrew. Andrew, please get down! You're scaring me!” Jesse cries, on the verge of tears again. “Please! Just, you’ve been drinking and it’s dark and-”
The branch cracks. Breaks.
Andrew falls.
~
Part Six