John Hughes Movie

Chapter 1

Peter

I should be more embarrassed by my workout playlist. While the rest of my teammates blast hip hop beats or hardcore metal guitars, I like to run to pop music, the more bubble gum the better. If my teammates ever got a hold of my Spotify Wrapped, the torture would be endless. Today, One Direction is doing the job. I turn the song up in my headphones as Harry Styles hits a high note and make the last push back to my shared house with my teammates.

The house sits on the corner of a street full of college students. The high oak fence that wrapped around the back and side yard hid the old siding that was overdue for a new paint job. The house had been passed down through the lacrosse team for the past 30 years. The landlord was a former player who always gave the guys living there a discounted rate as it became the unofficial club house for the team.

The best part of the house is that it is in the middle of the action. Greek row is two streets over. Any night you walk down this street, you'll find a party somewhere. What more could a kid ask for? I probably wouldn't even be in college if it wasn't for my lacrosse scholarship. I could never afford a place like this. My mom had a little saved away for college, but I'd rather save it for my brother. He's a mini genius and deserved to go where ever he could go, Harvard, MIT, Stanford. He needs to go where he's intellectually challenged. I'm more than happy to go to my state school with a decent athletic department.

I went up the steps of our house and saw one of my teammates Greg splayed out on the outdoor loveseat. I took one headphone out and yelled to him. "Tough night, Greggy?"

He startled and sat up. "I'm never drinking tequila with Trevor again." Greg was a wall of a dude. He was over 6 feet, at least 200 pounds. Even as a freshman, he was one of the best defenders. I've seen him lay a hit on a kid and the dude fly 2 feet back. It would take a shit ton of tequila to make him this hungover.

I couldn't help but smirk. "When will you learn freshie, never try to keep up with Trev. It's not human how much he can put away." He shook his head and tried to stable himself. Poor guy. "If you're gonna be here a while, you can crash on the couch. Let me know if you need anything. I gotta hop in the shower." I nodded as he started to get his bearings and walked into the house.

I was this close to running up the stairs when the yelling from the living room peaked my attention.

"NO DUDE! HIGHER!" Trevor yelled pacing shirtless through our living room.

"I used to work in a grocery store. There is no way it costs more than the laundry detergent!" my other roommate John rolled his eyes, taking in another sip of steaming hot coffee.

"It's beef! It's gonna be the most expensive thing. Has to be." Trevor planted himself down on the opposite end of the large grey sectional.

"It's ground beef, not a Wagyu steak. You can get a mountain of ground beef for like thirty bucks."

"And the answer is...lower." The host of the Price is Right called out.

"FUCK!" Trevor threw a small ball he was throwing between his hands up in the air.

"Told you." John sat smugly before finally seeing me. "Hey PK. How was the run?"

"Fine. My hip's a little tight from that hit at practice the other day, but I'll manage. What's the showdown prize?" I opened the fridge to grab a bottle of Gatorade, needed to replenish the sweat that was coming out of every orifice.

"Boat and 2 jet skis." Trevor replied. He flipped his hair back, a move that made all the girls go crazy. "Could you see me on a jet ski?" He jumped up on the couch and mocked like he was holding onto handle bars. Guess last night's tequila filled rager really did have no effect on him.