Prompt 145 -- Imbroglio -- Never Alone -- lordvisucius -- Original

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Title: Never Alone
Author: lordvisucius
Fandom: Original
Rating: G
Word Count: 1724
Summary: Jake and Ed go out to Jake's family lakehouse, to Ed's perpetual confusion.

It was more of a I-don't-give-a-shit feeling than anything else, but I kept it to myself. Flummoxed indeed—as to how this incompetent, miserable wreck of a teacher ever became part of the school, that is.

 

When he finally stopped reading over my shoulder, I dropped my pencil without bothering to finish my sentence. The person next to me chuckled.

 

"Not a fan of the man, are you?" he asked. I scowled at him, my friend Jake, to his amusement. "Calm down, Ed. We're stuck with him for the rest of the year anyway."

 

I grumbled silently but didn't say anything more. It wouldn't have helped anyway, so I turned back to my assignment. It as just another three months anyway.

 

"You doing anything next week?" Jake asked, after a time wherein I finished three open-ended questions and more than a smattering of multiple choice ones, not including the one I had been flummoxed with. It took more thought than I was willing to expend on the class.

 

"Not that I know of. Why?"

 

"Just curious. Some family and friends are going up to the lake and doing some kind of crazy thing. Wanna come with?"

 

"As what, a date?"

 

Jake laughed, but quietly. The teacher glared at us, and I grinned back cheekily. "My dad would kill me if I'd brought a girl anyway. It'll be fun. You can ogle what's-her-face again. Denise."

 

"Diana," I corrected. "You should be the one to know her name, anyway. She's your cousin."

 

"And you're the one who finds her hot, remember? Come on, Eddie, you know you waaaaant toooo." The bell rang, and he sang the last few words at me, snickering, as he ran out of the room. I didn't bother to hurry to catch him—he'd either me waiting for me outside or he'd be far gone already.

 

It turned out to be the latter. I didn't see him until nearly three hours later at lunch, where he had taken it upon himself to assume that I had ample time to make a decision. "What d'ya say, Ed?"

 

"I don't know. Just—I don't, really. What's the big rush?"

 

He wasn't impressed.

 

"Besides," I added, "you haven't told me what the big event is anyway. Not to mention that my mom won't necessarily let me go. She's been talking about going to the city over break for a while now."

 

"The city. Well, the city will be there a month from now, but our celebration will only be there a week. Come on, it'll be great!"

 

He took a giant bite out of his sandwich while I thought about it.

 

"You're not answering my questions," I said, finally, as I had no other retort. Somehow, I didn't think staying at home and playing video games would satisfy him as an excuse.

 

"It's just a tradition, no worries," he said. "And your mom agreed to it instantly when mine brought it up."

 

Of course—always prepared, they had already gotten my mom's permission. Figures.

 

"I'll go, I'll go," I muttered. "When is it?"

 

"Come by our house Friday night, around ten. Bring, oh, you won't have to bring much. A personal possession, a book or something, and a flashlight. And a water bottle if you have one to spare. Clothes, too, but don't worry if you can't find a water bottle. We'll have extras."

 

I nodded, curious but slightly worried, and by the end of the day the list had expanded to include some batteries, an empty can, a black ink pen, two extra pairs of socks and "some ice cubes, preferably still frozen when we get there." The last perplexed me more than the question ever did but the only answer I got when I told him I didn't know any ice cubes that would survive the two-hours-plus drive to the lake was not to worry about it if I couldn't figure it out. Naturally, I took it as a challenge.

 

By the end of the day, even though I had spent all of history mulling it over, I still couldn't think of anything. I wandered into the CVS, idly looking for inspiration, to find the requested batteries. A thermos of some kind? Salt water? Intense air conditioning? A cooler with more ice? Snow—in the middle of April?

 

In the end, I still had nothing more than two packs of AA batteries and a new flashlight. I snagged a heavy-duty insulated thermos, figuring I'd at least give it a shot, as I went to pay.

 

It wasn't perfect but was far better than I had really expected, when I gave the ice a test run that afternoon. I filled everything (consisting of a small cooler and the newly purchased cooler) with fresh ice and, on a whim, dumped a handful of salt into the thermos.

 

I got to Jake's house just before ten, lugging a bag with a few changes of clothes—he had neglected to mention how long we'd be staying—and everything I'd been told to bring. Including the ice. I let myself in, figuring that if they'd wanted me to stay out they'd have locked the door.

 

"Jake," I yelled, banging on the wall of his room. "Where are you, man?"

 

There was a pause. I frowned, as I'd thought that his parents would answer me if he didn't. Or his midget of a sister.

 

"Hey," someone finally said. Jake appeared in front of me, looking sheepish. "My dad screwed up. The celebration's not now—the week after. Damn, and we have school then. Mom says I can't go. Typically."

 

He shook his head. "You know, we might as well go anyway. Since you're already packed and here and everything. Dad won't have an issue. You've seen how much he adores that place, and he's been itching to try out the new canoe for ages now."

 

I shrugged. "We'll have to see what my parents say," I mumbled in lieu of an actual answer, and reached into my pocket to get my phone. dialing was faster than going through the address book, but Jake cut in before anyone had the chance to pick up.

 

"Your mum says it's fine if you want to go. It's only for the weekend."

 

I snapped my phone closed. "I swear, Jake, sometimes I think our parents are better friends than we are."

 

He laughed. "Alright, you going?"

 

"Sure, why the hell not?" I said, shrugging. "Now?"

 

"Nah. Dad's out getting milk or fruit or something. There's something down in the basement I've got to show you—want something to drink?"

 

I declined. It turned out to be nothing more than his little sister's school project (he'd swiped it the week before), covered in glitter and all types of colorful streaks. I snickered at obligingly, and even more so when I found the puppy sticker in the corner. She'd managed to miss the topic spectacularly. It was on the Underground Railroad, certainly devoid of rainbows.

 

The car ride was filled with our desperate attempts to out-sing the other and the deep chuckles of his father. Aside from that, he didn't add much to the conversation.

 

"We're here," he finally announced, two hours and forty-eight minutes later, when both our voices were further off-key than every before. I blinked sleepily; Jake yawned.

 

"Get inside, both of you, and fight over the bed. I'll bring the stuff in." We obeyed blearily, both of us already m ore than half-asleep.

 

"Wh—fight over the bed?" I asked, fumbling to open the front door, when his words finally registered. "I can just sleep in the guest room, it's fine—"

 

Jake frowned at me. "No you can't. We renovated a few months ago. Didn't think it was getting enough use. It's just my bed and my parents, well, my dad's really. Mom still hates it when we come here. Still thinks it's a waste of money."

 

"I'm sure as hell not sleeping on the floor."

 

"Neither'm I. The bed's plenty for the both of us."

 

The both of us. I was suddenly irritated with my friend. He had known perfectly well that we'd have just one bed between us but invited me out here anyway. He'd gotten the week wrong, an uncharacteristic mistake, and still hadn't told me what exactly the celebration was anyway. What had gotten into Jake? He wasn't the type to make such careless oversights.

 

"Jake! Jake, what the hell are you talking about? Did you—why—you know I can't just… there's a couch here, right? That's perfectly fine to sleep on…?"

 

"It's bad for your back. Don't worry about it, it's not going to be an issue."

 

We kept arguing for the next ten minutes, but at the end, I stuck by my first statement that I was sure as hell not sleeping on the floor and the bed looked pretty fine despite who else would be sleeping in it too. So I collapsed on it gratefully, and turned away from the door. And willed sleep to come quickly.

 

I almost didn't hear the closing of the door and almost didn't feel the creak of the bed when Jake rolled onto it. Sleep took me into its grasp easily, having forgotten about the squeamish idea of sharing the bed with my best friend.

 

I awoke to hands fisted in the back of my shirt and the sound of harsh breathing from beside me. I tried to turn around, the words already forming in my throat: I told you this would happen, Jake, you're such an idiot. You're a fool to think this would actually work without a problem.

 

He jerked, pulling me with him. I stifled an outcry and twisted to get a good look at his face.

 

Tortured. Jake… I had never seen him like this, with eyes screwed shut and mouth partly open and struggling to get a breath of fresh air. He gave a small, strangled noise and I flinched.

 

Was this really why he dragged me all the way out here? Just so he wouldn't have to be alone?

 

With short, jerky motions, I uncurled his hands from my shirt and held them awkwardly in my own. "It's okay, Jake," I whispered, and ignored the lingering sense of foolishness I felt. "It's okay—Jake, relax, you're not alone any more…"


He calmed down slowly, eventually settling into a deep and peaceful sleep, but I laid awake long afterward, never quite understanding what was going on.