One Last Shot [boyxboy]

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight (Seth)

Anthony was looking so much better the next morning.

The color had returned to his face and he was actually sitting up now, eating his breakfast slowly. He left his juice untouched, though. His cheekbone was slightly bruised from the accident and a gauze pad was stuck over the place where the doctors had stitched his gash shut.

"Don't like your juice?" I spoke up at last, making him look up, startled for a second like he hadn't really expected me to stick around. He relaxed for a second, frowning at it before looking away.

"It's too sour." He answered, blowing on the spoonful of oatmeal before eating it. I smiled and pushed off the doorway to the room, walking in and bringing a chair over to sit beside him. I watched him eat, pausing every so often to glance up at the television across the room that was showing how bad the roads had really been last night. He grimaced.

"I must've been really drunk to think I could drive in that." He muttered. I raised an eyebrow, sitting back in my seat with my jacket draped over my lap, hands folded on top of it.

"Oh yeah. It was kinda bad."

"And I can't remember a thing," Anthony admitted, making me frown in concern before he caught the look on my face and shook his head, "No, it was just because I was drunk. My head's fine, the doctor said. Well, physically anyway." He made a sour face at that before he finished eating, pushing the tray table away so it rolled to the foot of his bed. He looked at me, frowning.

"Have the cops come in yet?" He asked. I stared at him for the longest time before slowly shaking my head, watching him sigh as he settled back down on the bed. He watched the television for a while longer before turning his head to look at me.

"They'll probably want to talk to me when I leave," He hesitated, then frowned, looking away, "No, that's a lie. They'll probably arrest me. I was driving drunk, again. They'll probably take my license away too. Get my AA meetings bumped up." I nibbled my lower lip, studying him as he stared at the television, but I don't think he was actually watching anything. I think he was just trying to accept his fate, but it wasn't going to be like he had hoped.

I averted my eyes as I remembered having walked out of Anthony's room last night to take a break, only to run into Vic and Ace again. They were crowding a kid a few years younger than me who was banged up pretty badly, but well enough to argue with Ace over being irresponsible. Vic had seen me before I tried to escape, but he pulled me aside and put something in my hand.

"What's this?" I had asked, stunned when I saw a check in my hand.

"Bail," Vic told me quietly, making me look at him in disbelief, "It should be enough. I talked to the doctor about it and he said he won't recommend AA, but he's recommending therapy. It was the best I could get  and if money's any trouble, let me know." I looked up at him, surprised.

"I thought you said you had a falling out with Anthony."

"I did," Vic admitted, looking away before looking back at me with a frown, "But he's not the bad guy here. There is no bad guys in life. There's only people who want and need help, but don't know how to ask for it, or they're too scared too. Anthony's just another misunderstood guy and he deserves to be happy."

"You're giving me a lot of money." I admitted, grimacing at the amount of zeroes on the check. Vic shrugged.

"Money doesn't mean too much when you've found something a lot more important." I didn't miss the way he glanced out the corner of his eye at Ace, who was pinching his son's cheek hard enough to make him whine and complain. I smiled and looked back at Vic.