High school: Auggie x Jack Will

Sleepover

Auggie's POV

Jack's been really weird. I mean he's always really weird, but not like this. Not in the weird way.

It must have something to do with Julian. The kid used to be his best friend. Jack's changed since his Julian days, big time, but when someone has a best friend, they do sometimes grow apart, but it's not possible for them to forget each other. They've been through too much for that.

I'd like to believe that would mean the same for Jack and I, but he knew Julian for longer than he's known me. They were friends from when they were infants up to fifth grade. That's like ten years. Julian's got me by six years. Sure, Jack and I are super close and got super close fast, but time means a lot. It means, more than closeness, probably.

Well shit.

I don't know what I'll do when he leaves me. There's nothing I can do to prepare. Except cry, and I know I'll do that plenty when I get home. In fact, I've already gotten a head start on that on my walk home from where the bus drops me off.

  Jack's POV

As soon as I get home, I run upstairs to my room,
ignoring my mom's calls. I'll just tell her about Julian, and she'll get all empathetic and shit because she knows what that kid put me through and how I for the longest time was too weak to get out, or to notice I needed to, and allow me to go to Summer's house. She likes Summer. Says she's a good influence. She's right on that one.

I would normally feel bad for using my pitiful self to get what I want from Mom, but that's at the bottom of my way too bloated list of thing too worry about. I pack a few things into my duffel bag (no toothbrush, Summer's got one for me over there) and head downstairs to ask if I can go over. Mom says yes.

I ride my bike to Summer's. We're lucky we only live a few blocks away from each other, unlike me and Auggie who are 20 minutes apart. I can't drive and I hate making Mom be my chauffeur. She doesn't know about the disappointment that's coming for her when I come out, so I'm trying to make up for it as much as possible with little things. They say the little things are what count, but there's still nothing I can do to make my parents not hate me.

Trippy.

I walk up Summer's stoop. She lives in this generously sized two family house, but her grandma lives in the other half so she basically owns the whole thing. I think her house will be the go-to for parties when our group gets into that sort of thing. We're all either introverted or are anti-social to a crippling degree, in my case both, but from what I've seen in movies, all highschoolers party. And we're in high school now. That's insane.

We'd probably hold the parties in Summer's grandma's basement when she's away at her monthly trips to the casino with her senior center. Not too shabby for a guy who's only party he's ever been to was his own bar mitzvah, I think. I'll tell Summer this to stall telling about the not-straight thing. If I'm going to tell her about something that's probably going to ruin all of my friendships, I deserve some stalling time. I don't deserve much, but that's something I should definitely get. Something I definitely need.

I ring the doorbell and wait for Summer's mom to greet me. Her parents are divorced, her father ended up being a total dick, but Summer's got a gem of a mom. She doesn't mind me, a boy who's yet to be proven anything other than heterosexual, staying over for the night, and it's saved me from a lot. Summer's saved me from a lot. I'm not sure about her thoughts on lgbt people, ideally she doesn't hate them, or us I guess, but that just sounds too good to be true. Things never usually go the good way for me. It's probably what I deserve. Maybe I need to stop being an entitled little bitch and suck it up.