Sickening (A Lams Story)

So, apparently, John needs to take his driver's test again

...

Friday startled John from behind. The movie night and his pre-date with Martha came up quickly. Not that John minded; he'd just been busy worrying about Alex's mental state and the thing about the money. 

He sighed heavily and fixed his hair in the mirror before walking out of his bedroom, jogging downstairs, and walking out of the house with a skip to his step. He slid into his car, tossing his bag to the side, and then turned the engine on and pulled out of the driveway. 

He suddenly glanced in his rear view mirror and slammed on his brakes. "Oh my god!" he gasped, getting out of the car, and running a hand through his hair. "Alex? Alex!" 

"Fucking hell," Alex snapped, standing up and brushing himself off. "Watch where the fuck you're driving." 

John let out a sigh of relief. "Did I hit you?" 

"Nah, I tripped. But ya almost did." Alex reached up and smacked John in the head. "Watch your surroundings. You're gonna kill someone." 

"Already did," John muttered as Alex walked to get into the passenger seat. 

"Stap ya mumbling. It pisses me off!" he called before getting in the car, not having heard what John had said.

John got back into the driver's seat. Alex messed with the radio, drumming his hands on the dashboard. John glanced over, a small smile tracing his lips."Why are you in such a good mood?" 

"I'm with you," Alex hummed. He cracked a smirk. 

John's face heated up. Sometimes Alex said things like that, but John never knew if it was a joke or not. Alex was too confusing to read sometimes. "I have this movie thing with Peggy and Martha and a couple of other people, so are you going to hang out in my room or do you want me to drop you off somewhere?" 

"I wanna go with you," Alex answered. "What movie are you seeing?" 

"I don't know. I thought you didn't like movie theatres." 

"Neither do you," Alex pointed out. "And you're going, aren't you?" 

"Well, yeah, but—" 

"But what?" Alex snapped. "Do you not want me to go? Just say it, Laurens." He fidgeted with the switchblade again, like he always did. It was habit now, and it was starting to scare John. "Say it. You don't want me there."

"Of course I want you to come," John said, sincerely. "I want to be with you all the time." 

Alex cracked a smirk. "Then let's ditch this bitch and go do something more fun. Like rob a store or commit a murder." 

"Alex, I can't—" 

"Why? You've decided the life of crime wasn't for you?" he snapped. "Only after you shot someone." 

John shook his head. "You never let me finish. I told you. I have to go see a movie." 

"That's not fair," Alex huffed and crossed his arms. "You're always busy." 

"I have other friends, Alex," John said. 

"No the fuck you don't. They don't give two fucks about you. And if you were implying we're friends, you're wrong. We ain't friends. You don't have any fucking friends, Laurens—" 

"Then get the fuck out of my car!" John suddenly yelled, gripping the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white. 

Alex blinked. He opened the passenger door and got out. 

John waited for a second to see if Alex would climb back in, but, when he didn't, he drove off. He tried to calm himself down while driving because he knew Alex didn't mean what he said. Alex just said things to say things and to one-up John. John knew this, so why was he so pissed off? So much so the fact he was now speeding. Or, as much speeding as you can do in almoset bumper to bumper traffic of New York.