j a k e
"Let's do something," Graham demands as soon as he enters the room. My eyebrows furrow in distaste at the suggestion, and I turn away from him on the couch I'm lying on, hoping he'll get the message and will leave. He doesn't. Graham has been tolerable ever since I've come back from the hospital. If it weren't for me walking in on George telling Graham to take it easy on me days earlier, I would have thought it was because of the night we had talked and I had fallen asleep in his room.
"Don't you have friends to go bother instead of me?" I grumble.
"Yeah, but it's more fun to bother you," Graham smiles, mirth in his voice. He walks over, pushing my legs away as he plops onto the couch, pulling out a video game controller and clicking on the system. I roll my shoulders back, propping my body up on my elbows, watching as the TV comes to life.
Graham turns to me. "What do you want to play?"
I frown. "What do you mean?" Graham looks at me weirdly, stands up, and pulls out a display of different games. I cock my head. "Um, I've never played."
Graham almost chokes. "What?"
"I never had a gaming system at home," I shrug, trying to sound casual.
"That's crazy," Graham says. "You do realize that, right? That's inhumane."
I'm about to reply when George walks into the room, carrying a cup of water and some pills with him. He settles down on the edge of the couch, in front of where I lay, and sets the water and medicine on the coffee table in front of me.
"Dad," Graham says. "Did you know that Jake had never played a video game? I think I figured out the reason for this whole depression fiasco."
George's head snaps towards Graham at those words, looking angry, but I just explode in laughter. There's so many things people can blame my depression on; abuse, lack of father figure, domestic violence, witnessing alcohol influence one too many times. The fact that Graham just blurts out that it's because I've never played a video game makes me crack up.
George's eyes flicker to me, and he seems to relax to see me smiling. I roll over on my stomach and look at him, a ghost of a smile still on my lips. "George?"
"Yes?"
"Since, you know, I'm clinically sick, I don't have to go to school in September, right?"
George ruffles my hair. "That's funny, Jake."
I pout, but it's quickly thrown off my face when George lightly throws a couch pillow at me. I catch it and throw it back, but George ducks and it hits Graham in the head. Graham's too focused on his video game to notice, which makes George chuckle.
He turns back to me. "Okay, medicine time."
He takes me by the forearm and helps me into a sitting position. I push him off, proving that I can do it by myself, and reach for the pills, gulping down with the water he also left on the table. I finish gulping it down just as the sound of the door opening interrupts the TV, Graham looking up in confusion. Our questions are answered, however, when a voice yells, "Hey, Georgie!"
Grayson's head peeks into the living room, grin the size of North America. He notices the TV and says, "Dude, I love this game."
"Thank you," Graham says.
"How did you get in?" George asks.
Grayson holds up his hand and waves a key in our faces, the metal hitting against metal creating a clinking noise.
"Why do you have a key?" I ask.
Grayson plops down next to me and smirks, "I've had this for ages, my man. Do you have any good food?"
