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Micah
“We need more beer,”Declan groans as he crawls out of his tent.
Between the eight of us, we went through three cases of beer last night. Brady was the last to arrive, per usual. Just after sunset, he rolled up on his motorcycle like he didn’t have a care in the world, tossed his duffel bag dangerously close to the fire, and cracked open a can before even saying hello to anyone. And even then, it was more grunting than actual words.
I’ve never figured him out. He gives off a bad-boy vibe but he’s not in your face about it. In fact, he’s the quietest of all of us, even after a few drinks. The only person who really knows much about him is Julian, and that’s only because they live together. But from what I’ve gathered over the year since I met him, he prefers the solitary life, to be by himself.
And he disappears all the fucking time.
No one knows where he goes or what he’s doing. He just vanishes into thin air and reappears later.
Honestly, it’s kind of creepy. The way he can walk away without drawing attention to himself.
Like this morning. He was here when I woke up twenty minutes ago, sound asleep in his sleeping bag next to the fire. By the time I poured myself a cup of coffee, he was gone.
“You look like shit. I don’t think beer is going to help your situation,” Julian replies over the lip of his coffee mug. He’s attempting to hide his smug grin but he’s not fooling anyone.
“It’s the perfect cure for a hangover,” Kane adds, coming up behind us and stealing my coffee from my hands.
If I were hungover, my fist would be breaking his nose right about now. But I stopped drinking when I started taking everyone’s money. I wanted to keep a clear head, and it paid off in the end. I’m up two rolls of quarters and we’re having another tournament tonight.
“To stay drunk?” Julian asks, clearly baffled by Kane’s answer.
For a frat boy, he doesn’t know much about being drunk. Or getting drunk for that matter. He was my strongest competition last night. I’m fairly certain he only had two beers. He likes to maintain control. To keep his wits.
I get it.
He leads a structured life. Work, school, baseball, repeat. The frat is the one thing he doesn’t have control over. That’s Max’s wheelhouse. And we’re all a little tired of Max this morning.
He spent last night bitching about women.
All women.
Which led to a few not so nice things said in his direction.
From his best friend of all people.
Finn wasn’t about to let Max say something about Willow. His own sister. The woman Finn has been in love with practically his entire life.
Max got defensive, and then it became clear everyone had drunk more than their fair share of beers when Finn and Max started fighting. If you can call it that. I was bent over laughing as they rolled around on the ground, trying to beat each other up. I’m pretty sure neither of them landed a decent punch. Declan was attempting to pull Finn off Max. Julian and Colton were trying to restrain Max.
It was a shitshow for a few minutes. And highly entertaining.
“If I stay drunk, I don’t have a hangover. Problem solved. Now, someone grab me a beer,” Dec says as he takes a seat at the table.
Stealing my coffee back from Kane, I slide it in front of Dec. He takes it without complaint and empties the mug.
It’s going to be a long day if Finn and Max are even half as hungover as Kane and Declan are.
“Sonofabitch, pieceofshit, stupidmotherfucker,”Max grumbles, his words smashed together as he reels in his empty line again.
Even hungover, he wanted to stick to the plan for today. After three cups of coffee and two doses of aspirin, we all loaded up and headed to the lake to fish. Finn rented two small fishing boats and demanded that Julian and I, the only two who weren’t dying this morning, captain them.
Unfortunately for me, Max jumped into my boat.
He’s been bitching ever since, scaring away all the fish.
“Shut the fuck up and the fish won’t swim away. Just sit there and let your line hang out in the water for fuck’s sake,” Colton growls.
