the first one • j. hughes

3

"Jesus," I mumble to myself. Music is blasting from, I think, the living room. My guess is Luke is to blame. Not the rudest awakening he's given me.

To my surprise, it's not Luke. It's Jack. His hair's still a bit wet. Hopefully from a shower and not from the workout they did. There's a bit of a dance to his steps as he tidies up the living room. The one I cleaned last night while they were in their rooms. So really, he's just straightening up things. It's kind of adorable to watch him go along.

He picks up a picture frame off one of the end tables, smiling before putting it down. Then, he jumps slightly and puts a hand over his heart. "Oh my god, Prez. Scared the hell out of me."

"Yeah, well, you woke me up with your music," I say.

"Really?" He takes his phone out of his pocket, turning up the speaker even louder. "This music?!"

I pretend to think about it for a second before nodding. "That music, yeah!"

His phone is tossed onto the couch. He holds a hand out toward me and I hate to say it but a certain part of my brain starts the alarms. Every version of me that ever had feelings for him beg to be released to run rampant. I don't let them. They'll stay put.

"Would you rather have woken up to my music or have got woken up by Luke once he got out of the shower?" He asks.

"I happen to enjoy Luke's presence quite a bit," I say, louder than usual trying to beat the music. "Probably the whole reason I've been best friends with him for his entire life!"

"Don't you remember who was the best friend before that? Honestly, Ken, I'm hurt."

I laugh. He glows. Jack's always loved making people laugh. I mean, everyone does. It's more than that to Jack. If he can make even one person laugh in a crowd of a hundred, he's over the moon. Even a half laugh. It's his favorite type of attention. That outstretched hand flexes out slightly.

"What?" I ask.

The song changes and he does it again, a shaking of the hand almost. He nods his head to the beat. Sort of. He's off a little. "C'mon, you love this song. You love dancing."

I do love this song. Never would I admit that to any of my New York friends unless they admitted to it first. It's a country song. Like, full-on, modern pop country. But, fuck it goes hard. I cross the doorway, kind of shocked that there isn't a force field of some sort keeping me out of the happy universe Jack's in.

My hand takes hold of his and he's instantly spinning me around. It almost all comes naturally. His not at all good singing voice singing along. The beat doesn't come naturally and I take a little control of that. But other than that, it's all him. One of his hands is on my waist, pulling our hips on that side close. My hand is on that side's shoulder like it's born to be there. A bastardized waltz is what it really is.

I think. I don't know. It's dumb and clumsy. I'm trying my best to keep the boy on the beat but how off-beat he is and how bad he is at singing is making me laugh. Which makes him get even worse. As I said, he thrives with laughter even if it's at him.

Monty would've never done this. Even when we were just friends. Which we were for over a year. He claimed he hated dancing. Yet went out to clubs every weekend. He claimed he hated this very song when he tried to surprise me in my dorm and I was playing it in our suite's common area because nobody else was around.

And, if I'm being honest, Montgomery Adler could never make me laugh like this. He doesn't even deserve to hear me laugh the way Jack can get me to. He doesn't deserve any laughter I've ever had.

As the song winds down, Jack tries to have me do another spin. I'm caught off guard, stumbling over my feet. He's got good reflexes and manages to keep me up by pulling me back toward his chest. It's good. Nice. Dissolves the gross feeling that was sneaking up on me.

The music cuts off. By the speaker, Quinn's shaking his head with a small smile. "You guys should never take that out of the house. Should barely do it inside the house."

"We should join a dance competition." I push slightly on Jack's chest.

"It'd be unfair to the other contestants." He takes the hint and steps back.

Quinn rolls his eyes. Fake annoyance. "They'd be too distracted by how terrible you are and that's why you'd end up winning. That's more your guys' luck than anything."

"We are pretty lucky," I start.

"To have Huggy around to support us so much," Jack finishes.

"You guys are the real Dumb and Dumber," Quinn says. He nods up a little. "Make Moosey look smart."

"Why does everyone seem to forget that for that time when Luke didn't exist, I was the one in all the cute pictures with her?" Jack asks, genuinely sounding exasperated by it all.

Quinn sends me a look that tells me he hears how real his brother's concern sounds. "Don't worry, man. You and Dee's childhood best friendship is way better than hers and Luke's."

"Too bad you guys decided to let all those hormones get in the way," Luke says. He walks right through the living room, on the opposite side of the couch, to the back door. "Good on me for always keeping in mind how annoying she is."

"Puh-lease," I say. My best friend in the entire world doesn't stick around to hear whatever argument I have, the door closing behind him already. I turn my attention back to his brothers who are both stifling a laugh. "Thirteen-year-old Luke was so in love with me."

Jack's face falls slightly. Only a second. "Was he?"

"For like a month. Right after I got my braces off."

"I liked you right after you got your braces off," he states.

Quinn laughs. "She had that boyfriend right after she got her braces off. Jesus, Holly is right." We both look at him. He rolls his eyes again. "She's got a running joke about how messy the younger half is. That's you three. In case you can't count or something."

"Hey!" I snap. "I'm the one who carried you in that math game my mom did at my birthday last year. I'm literally the only one who scored."

"Our competition was Trevor and Jack," he argues. Even motions toward Jack who throws his hands up in offense.