"This isn't you Cade." My voice is small.
I don't know if I'll ever understand why he suddenly changed, but I'm grateful he did. Whatever happened to him is a benefit to what is happening to us right now.
Cade tucks the strands of my hair that fall...
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"Chill sis, it's not like I'm doing cocaine or some shit." Jacob responds nonchalantly, wrapping another piece of what seems to be weed in his fingers, while a litted cigarette is in between his lips.
I notice that he's on swim shorts and his strawberry blonde hair looks wet and disheveled. He probably went for a swim before they came over here.
"Amir!" Someone yells his name from somewhere behind us and he tells us he'll be back, before he scurries away. Ophelia who he passed the information to barely looked at him.
"Besides, it's weed. I wanna have a good time tonight and this isn't my first rodeo." Jacob gives her a "duh" expression and Ophelia responds with a scoff.
"You're fucking lying. I know you only look like shit and you're doing this shit because Daya isn't here to pamper your ass anymore." Ophelia retorts harshly which results into Jacob's countenance dropping into a scowl.
"Oh damn." Dylan lets out from besides me, then goes back to where he was sitting.
Zayn and Cade walk to sit on the same couch, each grabbing a bottle of beer from on top the wooden table at the middle of the patio. Zayn opens his own immediately and starts drinking.
I stand in my spot, starring worriedly at Jacob who truly looks like shit. His eye bags are so big, he looks like he has been deprived of sleep for some nights. Or probably has been crying too.
Who knows?
We all know how much the breakup with Daya and her leaving has impacted him.
Although, I'm still very much pissed at him and probably won't talk to him anytime soon, I still care about him. He's basically a brother to me, despite the shit he's been pulling lately.
"Don't fucking start Ophelia. Leave her out of this." I blow out a breath and finally sit down besides Dylan, knowing some siblings squabble is about to start. Or has started already.
Dylan offers me the alcoholic content in his cup, but I shook my head. Even if I wanna drink, I can't. Though, I'm not a fan of alcohol.
"Suit yourself." I watch him ditch the disposable cup on the little table, before grabbing a half-drank bottle of bourbon.
I tear open my bag of Chile Limón Lay's chips and pop open the Diet Mountain Dew I took from the kitchen on the way here.
"You know," Dylan says, gulping down the alcohol which I know is too strong for him, seeing how his face squeezes at the harsh taste.
