the first one • j. hughes

42

jack
hey i'm so sorry but something came
up last minute

kennedy
something came up last minute in
place of the plans we made a week
ago?

jack
yeah
i'm sorry prez

kennedy
guess i'll hang out with lu instead

* * * * *

Luke scrunches his nose up as he hands me my phone back. I'm in their apartment because, well, I was already five minutes away when I got that first text. Jack wasn't even here when I got here. I mean, I can't remember the last time any of our plans ended up getting done. This, though, is a new low. I thought the week away thing would help. I thought that call on Christmas would help. It didn't. It made it worse. The text-only relationship is worse than the silent one.

"That's fucked," Luke says.

I nod. "It's bullshit is what it is."

"I don't even know where he went," he tells me. Not because he thinks it'll make me feel better. 'Cause he knows that I desperately want to know what could be better than seeing the girl he allegedly has spent his whole life loving.

"What could he be doing that he didn't even want to invite me to? Like, who the hell is he with?"

Luke looks at me in this way. This way that makes me want to scream to get rid of the gross feeling in my stomach. It makes me feel... I feel crazy. Sitting here and wondering when my boyfriend will be home from doing god knows what. I feel crazy and I'm not. That's the worst part.

Not once have I ever expected this from Jack. I've never thought so lowly of him. Even at his worst, I never thought he'd be one of those guys. The kind that keeps you waiting at home, nervous and feeling crazy for questioning the trust you have in them. I never thought he'd remind me of any ex I've had. But here he is, reminding me of more than one. Of every single one that called me crazy even if that word hasn't left Jack's mouth toward me.

"You want to watch a movie?" I ask Luke.

He squints. "Sure. Whatever you want."

* * * * *

Luke's fast asleep when I get the call. A call from Jack slurring his speech and giggling until the phone gets passed to one of their teammate's girlfriends. He needs a ride. He shouldn't get an Uber, he can't drive. He needs me to come pick him up because he's drunk off his ass and actually, now that he thinks about it, he misses me and wants to see me.

I hate how quickly I grabbed Luke's keys off the counter. I hate how quickly I got out the door and how I sped a bit to get to him. I hate how gross I feel. I hate how badly I want to figure out what exactly is going on tonight that's more important than spending a night with me.

"Prezzy," he slurs out when I pull up to the curb. "Hi, Kenny honey."

"Hey," I say through the rolled-down window.

One of his teammates helps him around the car to the passenger seat. The girlfriend of that teammate walks up to my window with an apologetic and sympathetic smile. I want to cry. I want to scream.

"We didn't want him to take an Uber in his state," she explains. "He went a bit overboard."

I nod. "Yeah, I see that. Thank you."

"Good luck," she says once her boyfriend's back by her side. Mine turns the music up only for me to turn it right back down.

The car is silent as I pull off. Other than Jack's fidgeting. That's how I know he isn't too far gone. Too drunk and he can barely hold his head up. Fidgety Jack is easy. I can deal with fidgety drunk.