Benefits

Ch. 92: Bury A Friend

bury a friend- Billie Eilish

"Listen, keep you in the dark, what had you expected? Me to make you my art and make you a star and get you connected?"

-

"It could have been worse." Jake muses as he sits down at the edge of my bed. I sit next to him. I feel his thumb rub against my knuckles, as he holds my hand.

"Yeah right. At least my grandparents like you."

"They do?" He asks cheerily.

"Of course, couldn't you tell?" I rub my nose against his cheek.

"Also your mom said yes to San Francisco."

"When did you ask her?" I furrow my brows and look up at him.

"When you went up to get your grandparents. I am as surprised as you are, but she thinks you need some time away to heal I guess with your dad and all."

"Hm." I hum, looking down at the floorboards.

"What's wrong?" His thumb presses into my chin to look up to him.

"It's nothing. I just-" It's hard to focus when I can hear my mother crying in the next room. My grandma is consoling her as best she can, but I think it was bound for her to break. My mom doesn't like to admit it, but she depends on my grandmother more than my grandmother pries. "I want to forget about that night. I don't want to remember him. At all. Not even the good parts."

"I wish I can wipe all the bad shit away from your mind, baby. It's not possible though." He pecks my cheek, "We'll get through this."

"Has something scarred you to the point of you wanting to die?" It's more of a rhetorical question, but I get an answer anyway.

"Yeah."

"I'm so insensitive. I'm sorry-" How could I forget that Jake was the one to find his parents dead.

"No, it's fine. Stop babying me. I wasn't even talking about that really. It's not something I saw, it's more of a memory- or should I say memories." He emphasizes. I wait for him to continue, but I can tell he's getting lost in thought.

"My parents were drug dealers."

Jake P.O.V.

5 1/2 years ago

I was sitting at the table; doing my homework. Something I usually did late at night, and it was no different.

I heard his voice. My father's. He was yelling at his phone.

It was right before we moved into the big house that changed everything. These walls weren't stark white; the color has aged well into a yellow. The light outside of the house is always shining from the natural light. I practically lived in darkness; my parents could barely manage to pay the electric bill at times. My eyes strained with the flashlights that were all across the room.

"Chris, I know I have to- what are you saying. Please don't!" My father screams as he enters the dining room- well the kitchen. We had no room for a dining room. "Shit. Shit." He throws his phone on the couch that's only five feet from the kitchen.

"Dad?" I questioned. I've never seen him so frightened.

"Jake." His head snaps to me once he hears my voice. "I thought you were out with Serena?" He's been cooped up in his room since I got here.

"My curfew is 9:30 pm." I shrug.

"It's that time already." He scratches his scalp, sweat beads off of his skin, and I can smell his musk. He probably hasn't showered in days.