Tuesday, December 19, 2017
J
ack's hand only left my neck when Brett stomped his foot, and I peered over Jack's shoulder to find Brett standing by the couch. Jack turned and without any hint of embarrassment pointed a finger at Brett and shouted, "Sit the hell down, Brett."
But Brett encroached upon Jack and stopped in the middle of the room beside Travis to say, "You're drunk. Deal with this drama later and it might actually get resolved."
The first thing that came to my mind was the oddity that Jack was drunk. He was rarely ever drunk. He thought alcohol was bad for the writing process, and indeed, even Hemingway whom was rumored to be a drunken writer but in fact was not, said, along with Stephen King, that writing drunk is like shooting yourself in the foot.
But Jack pulled forward and said, "You touch me and one of us is going to die, Brett—just saying."
Brett frowned. "Dude, we're all going to die anyway, so what are you trying to preserve by being possessive over Zara?"
Jack raised his hands up. "Dude, Brett—Zara's my girlfriend!" But Jack quickly turned around and said to me with a snarl—"Was my girlfriend. . ."
That stung me.
George suddenly stepped forward. "Wait. . ." He dropped his eyes on me, and I instantly felt uncomfortable. "So Zara's not your girlfriend anymore?"
Travis put his face in his palms and told George, "Don't even think about it you idiot."
I crossed my arms after rubbing my sore neck, and said to Travis "I wouldn't let him even if he did think about it."
George merely laughed. "You'll change your mind when I become the president."
But Brett turned to George and repeated, "We're all going to die George, you're not going to be the president. The only light at the end of the tunnel for us is that we'll probably die a joyous, drunken death and by the looks of all our libidos we're probably going to have a raging orgy--"
Jack suddenly lunged at Brett and they fell backward in a tussle on the couch. The force tipped the couch backward-- "AN ORGY WITH MY GIRLFRIEND?!" Jack cursed and a lamp on the bookstand knocked onto the floor and broke.
George scratched his head and said, "I thought she wasn't your girlfriend anymore."
Travis looked over to me and said, "Maybe you should lie low for a while. Maybe go to your room."
But Jack shouted in a loud cry while he wrestled with Brett in an impressive competition-- "She's not sleeping with me! Not in my room! Not ever!"
But Travis merely rolled his eyes and said, "We'll see how Jack really feel when the booze wears off." Travis turned to me and said, "I'll bring your food down later. Just go downstairs and don't talk to any boys for a while--" (which basically meant talk to no one). "We'll get all this sorted out before this gets out of hand."
But suddenly there was a loud thump and the bookstand fell over before a crash of glass erupted into a curse and a cry from Brett-- "You punched me in the mouth you cuckold!"
"You were trying to hook up with my girlfriend on the floor, backstabber! I know because George told me!" George instantly turned red when Travis and I looked at him. He made an awkward face and made a motion that he would be leaving to the roof to hide.
I looked to Travis glumly, felt the pain in my neck my ex-lover branded on me, and thought about how Craig would look in a fight if he came into contact with Jack.
I left to go to my room, and hoped I wouldn't be exiled from the only people I had left.
YOU ARE READING
SWIM Book 1 (Complete three-hundred pages)
Novela Juvenil***EDITOR'S CHOICE AWARD*** What would you do if you only had three months to live? When a tsunami traps a girl, her boyfriend, and four other boys in a bay house, starvation, sexual competition, and territorial war tear them apart. Entangled in a h...