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“My girlfriend just broke up with me,” I say. “I wouldn’t say that’s doing good.”
“We can fix that,” Sean says, walking back to me. “Let’s go inside and get you wasted.”
5
JAKE
Sean’s houselooks the same as it did when I’d come over here as a kid. It’s got the same furniture, same brown shag carpeting, same orange-striped wallpaper. Sean shares the house with Mick, his uncle. When Sean’s mom took off with her boyfriend, Sean couldn’t pay the rent on his own so Mick moved in to help out. Mick’s in his late twenties and single, but has three kids with three different moms.
“Never thought I’d seeyouagain,” Troy says as I walk into the living room. He’s sitting on the recliner, smoking a cigarette. He doesn’t look happy to see me. We were never really friends, but he was always hanging around with Leo and Sean so he became a friend by default. I’ve never liked him. He’s one of those guys with a permanent chip on his shoulder who thinks everyone has it better than him. Troy could walk by a homeless guy with no legs and still think that guy has it easier than him. He acts like the world’s out to get him and there’s nothing he can do about it. I get that living here makes people feel hopeless, but Troy takes it to a whole new level. He won’t even try to improve his life.
“I moved back,” I tell him.
“So I heard.” He takes a puff of his cigarette. “Sean said you’re going to some fancy college north of the city, where all the rich people live.”
“I didn’t pick the college for the location,” I say. “I just went to whatever school would give me money.”
“You still going to make video games?” Leo asks, sitting down on the worn-out couch.
I take a seat on the opposite end. “If I can find a job, then yeah.”
“How many you want?” Sean yells from the kitchen, which is attached to the living room. He’s holding up a package of hotdogs.
“You can skip it. I don’t need to eat.”
“You just said you were hungry.”
“Get a clue, dumbass,” Troy says. “Sanders is rich now. He doesn’t want some shitty hotdog. He probably eats steak every night.”
“I don’t,” I say. “And I’m not rich. I wish you guys would stop saying that.”
“Compared to us, you are,” Troy says. “Look what you’re wearing. I bet that shirt wasn’t bought at some secondhand store.”
“No, but it wasn’t expensive. Can we stop talking about me? I want to hear what’s new with you guys. So Troy, what are you up to these days?”
“Working at my uncle’s garage.” He rolls his eyes. “I hate it. The guy’s an asshole. Always telling me what to do, how to do it. And if I’m late, the jerk doesn’t pay me.”
“At all?”
“No, for the hour I was late or whatever.” He huffs. “I’m his family. You’d think the fucker could be more understanding.”
This is what I mean. Troy thinks he’s right and everyone else is wrong. If he showed up late for work, why should his unclehave to pay him for that time? It doesn’t even make sense, but to Troy, his uncle is a jerk for not paying him when he wasn’t even there.
“Here.” Sean comes up to me with a glass of vodka. It’s a drinking glass and it’s filled halfway to the top. There must be at least five or six ounces, maybe more.
“I can’t drink all this,” I say, holding up the glass.
“What do you mean? That’s nothing.”
They’re all staring at me, looking like I should’ve already downed half the vodka by now. I forgot how much they drink. Even when we were kids, they were drinking a lot. They’ve built up a tolerance for it. I haven’t.
I take a drink, trying not to cough from the burn in my throat as the vodka goes down it.
“His girlfriend dumped him today,” Sean says to Troy.
“Was she hot?” he asks.
That’s all Troy cares about, how a girl looks. He’s too broken from his past and life in general to ever have a real relationship with a girl. He’s completely closed off to any emotion other than anger. He reminds me of how Dean used to be. He’d probably still be that way if it weren’t for Brook.
