Disclaimer: This is a slow love story and not a fast fuck one. If this isn't to your liking, please don't bother reading. This story contains sexual acts between consenting adult males. If it offends you, then X out. Any comments or questions, email me and I'll try to respond promptly.
CHAPTER 1
"Mace, help me out!" Jackson said frantically, grabbing onto my sleeve, yanking hard and nearly causing me to fall backwards.
"Shit, Jackson, calm down," I said pulling away. "What do you need help with now?" I asked in exasperation.
"I have two French handouts and a composition of 130 words and I haven't started and it's due tomorrow morning, but I won't have time to do it tonight because I have an E-board meeting and practice," he said in a rush, his big brown eyes peering at me pleadingly.
I stared at him. "What? You didn't start it at all?"
"I was busy!" he exclaimed defensively. "And not everyone is super-genius like you and gets everything done, in literally, two seconds. God, talk about a freak." He rolled his eyes.
"That's right- flatter me some more- that will get me to do your homework," I said sarcastically, folding my arms.
Instantly, his face transformed into a puppy dog look- one that I could never resist or say no to, and Christ, the sonofabitch knew it. After being friends for almost 16 years, he knew everything about me and that was infuriating at times.
"I'm sorry Mace, but come on, you're like super-Asian smart. You could look at something and figure it out, without even trying or writing it on a piece of paper or something. Don't you think you should help us lesser individuals?" Jackson reasoned.
"Jackson, you're Asian, too."
"Yeah, but I'm cool, so it was a trade-off. Thankfully, I have you as my best friend, to help me in my time of need."
I blinked. "Wait, did you just insinuate that I'm a loser?" I demanded.
Jackson grinned charmingly. "Damn," he cursed. "Can't get nothing past you."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Oh, don't be such a stiff, Mace. You and I both know that you're going to help me," he said folding his arms, as he raised on thick, arched eyebrow at my challengingly, as if daring me to disagree.
I bit my lip and squeezed my eye shut. I didn't consider myself a pushover and would never do homework for anyone else. I knew that for a fact, as I had been asked many times in the past, but when it came to Jackson, I'd literally bend over backwards for him, or do whatever I could to help him. I knew he'd do the same for me and had proven so in the past.
"Fine," I sighed. I held out my hand and Jackson let out a whoop as he started digging in his bag for his books. I grunted as he practically threw the rather large French textbook at me.
"The assignment is printed out, and the sample model of what it's supposed to look like is on page 94, oh, and the handouts," Jackson said, adding two sheets of paper to the pile. "Don't forget that."
"I hate you," I narrowed my eyes at him.
"You love me," he said sweetly, his dark eyes sparkling. He started walking backwards as he continued to talk. "Coming to practice tonight?"
Jackson had been taking Capoeira lessons since he was ten, and now, almost eleven years later, he was lethal. I had seen him perform and I had no idea he could move that fast and look so strong and elegant; most times, Jackson was clumsy, tripping over his own sneakers or falling down the last couple stairs.
He had joined the University club and was currently on the E-board as Vice President, and it was pretty much a sure thing that he'd be President during our senior year. He was popular among everyone and it was doubtful anyone else would give him competition for that title.
"Yes, I am so excited to be President," Jackson grinned when we had talked at the beginning of the fall semester. "All that power, all in my hands," he winked at me. "Power tastes so delicious," he made a slurping noise. I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, I can see that you're not letting it get to your head," I snorted.
"I like being important. I love that I have the command of eighty plus people who are trained to kill, or take out an eye at least," he shrugged. "Command of the death squad. What a nice ring."
I wasn't in the club, but as Jackson's best friend, we were always together and more often than not, I came to practice twice a week on campus just to hang with him and his friends, who were all really cool.
Plus, since I was schmoozing with the E-board members, more or less, I didn't have to pay for membership. I could just mosey my way in and participate, not that I did very often. I wasn't fast enough or coordinated enough to deflect a kick or swipe, so I was better off just watching. Like Ross on Friends, I bruised like a peach!
"I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight," I said rolling my eyes. "I have some French homework to do, which is odd since I'm not currently taking any language course," I said looking at him pointedly.
Jackson smiled. "Fine, see you tomorrow for breakfast?" Most mornings, we ate breakfast together, either at his house or mine. Sometimes, we'd grab something on the way to campus.
"Kiss my ass," I called out as I began walking in the opposite direction.
"If I'm kissing your ass, then it's your turn to buy breakfast!" he called back. "You can use my body, but I better be getting some food out of it. Like a lot of food. Like pancakes, eggs, sausages, bacon, hash browns."
"Jackson, shut up!" I hissed turning around.
He grinned at me. "I promise, I'll make it worth your while," he winked suggestively as he licked his lips.
I blushed when I noticed a few students giving me odd looks and I once again cursed my friendship with Jackson Mercado.
"J'ai beaucoup...J'ai beaucoup...homework," I mumbled. "What's the fucking French word for homework?" I mused to myself as I started digging in the back of the book through the glossary. "Devoir." I wrote it in the blank and sighed. "I hate France. I am never going there."
I filled in the rest of the blanks of the worksheet Jackson had given me. I had already completed his composition, which was easier than I had anticipated due to the model in the textbook. However, filling out the worksheet was turning out to be a bitch.
I heard the doorbell ring and since I was the only one home, I quickly got up to answer it. Swinging the door open, I blinked in confusion when I didn't see anyone.
Then I heard a high-pitched voice. "Down here!"
Looking down, I noticed a small little boy with a big smile on his face and a plastic container in his hands.
"Hey Eric," I said crouching down so I was eye-level with him. "Don't tell me you came all the way here by yourself."
In truth, it was basically walking three feet over since we lived in townhouses and we were all cramped together, but I felt that little kids shouldn't be left alone in this day and age where kids were literally snatched off their front laws.
Eric smiled at me and shook his head, his bangs brushing over his eyes. "Mommy's over there!" he pointed behind himself. I looked in the direction he had pointed to and noticed his mother, Jackson's older sister, waving to me from the driveway. I waved back.
"What you got there?" I asked indicating the container.
"Empanadas," he enunciated carefully. "Empanadas," he repeated again before giggling to himself, hopping slightly on his feet with energy that only came from being so young and carefree.
I laughed and mussed his dark brown hair. "Eric, why are you so cute?"
"I look like Uncle Jackson," he replied immediately.
I eyed him suspiciously. "Did your Uncle Jackson tell you to say that?"
"Yes," Eric nodded emphatically with a big smile.
I rubbed his cheek. "Well, you actually do look like a younger version of him, and since you're so adorable, I guess that makes Uncle Jackson adorable too, at your age. Time hasn't been friendly to him, but I bet it will be for you."
Eric nodded along, probably not getting my meaning. He thrust the container of food into my arms.
"Thank you. I hadn't eaten dinner yet. You're a little lifesaver." I reached over and hugged him, while tickling under his arms, and he laughed into my chest. I kissed his cheek. "Say hi to your Mommy for me, ok?"
He nodded eagerly and started running to his mother, taking clumsy steps. I waved to her again and shut the door.
"Food," I sighed in relief. I wasn't in the mood to cook anything, since I sucked, and my cooking skills consisted of eggs or pasta and even those came out pretty crappy. And takeout was so fattening. I could see the grease and animals fats clogging up my arteries. I usually only ate out with my friends, because I always succumbed to peer pressure.
"This is why Jackson and I are friends," I mumbled to myself as I took a huge bite while poring over the French book.
"You're the best," Jackson said as he shoveled in the remainder of his breakfast into his mouth while taking the papers from my hand.
"Blah, blah, I've heard all that before. You can't sweet-talk me," I sighed, downing my juice.
"Umm, I think I already did," Jackson grinned. "Which is why my homework is all taken care of."
I shot him a dirty look.
"What can I say? I'm an important man on campus; people expect me to show up to functions and socialize. Just think- you're helping me achieve greatness and when I finally do achieve greatness, you know, at the highest level- you can say you were a part of that," he finished.
I snorted. "Do you actually think this up? Like, to convince yourself, or others?"
"No, Mace, I really and truly believe it," he said with a serious expression.
I rolled my eyes and Jackson broke into a wide, charming smile.
"But seriously, I love you for helping me out. Really."
I could tell he was sincere that time. I let out a defeated sigh. "It's my punishment for being friends with you! I have to do this stuff; if I don't, I feel guilty. Damn you!"
"Don't feel bad; I have that effect on everyone. I'm just that awesome. People feel compelled to bow down to me," he said smugly.
I shot Jackson a dirty look, for what he said, we both knew was true. Not only was Jackson ridiculously charming and intelligent with his words, but he was also fun, personable, charismatic, sweet at times, utterly loyal, and most importantly, cute as hell.
Nothing about Jackson was traditionally hot or handsome or refined, but his features just meshed so well. At 5'7, he was small, but had the typical lean, Asian frame. He was dark, from his Filipino heritage, straight, long nose, thick dark eyebrows, big brown eyes with a gleam of mischievousness, and a killer smile that could literally persuade someone to commit murder.
Guys considered him cute and spunky and animated, while girls thought he was just the most entertaining thing on earth. One wouldn't believe the number of people I had encountered that expressed their crush on Jackson. The odd thing was that Jackson was never too eager for a relationship, or as he said, "No one ever struck my fancy enough to waste time on them. My time is precious. I'm an important man, remember?"
I was rather envious of Jackson. We were best friends and he and I were super close, but he just seemed to have everything I lacked. Perhaps that was why we made such a good pair, we could fill in the holes in one another.
I didn't consider myself that good-looking, but I can't say I hated what I saw in the mirror, at least on a daily basis. I was 5'9, and on the thin, slender side, although I was actively trying to work out more. I was very pale, and had typical Chinese features- delicate bone structure, small oval eyes, shy smile. oh, but I had a head of big, black, spiky hair. I admit, I used a lot of gel to maintain that style, but I liked it. It suited me. Sometimes I felt like an anime character, in terms of how I looked.
Personality wise I was sarcastic and had my comedic moments, but I worked best with Jackson. I could feed off him. On my own, I was more reserved, quiet, friendly but not too forthcoming.
However, with the mutual friends Jackson and I shared, I could get loud and obnoxious. I guess it all depended on my level of comfort. I always felt safe with Jackson and I could be myself, and he'd always be my friend. I had yet to encounter anyone else where I felt that free. I hoped one day I would.
One of my greatest fears was ending up alone and Jackson had heard all this before; he always gave an aggravated sigh whenever I had my `pity me' moments, which came at the most random times.
Depressive funks come and go on as they pleased. It's not like I wanted to be a moody young college guy.
Jackson was more athletic than I was, or more confident when it came to trying new things. Or maybe more passionate. I always envied his passion; I had yet to find mine. Although, I never doubted his intelligence, when it came to school stuff, I could finally claim the upper hand. Not that it was something I should brag about, but hey, I would take what I could get.
A splash of cold water landed on my face and I flinched and ducked, although it was too late by that point.
"That's your stupid ass thinking face! Stop it! This is breakfast. A think-free environment. For the love of God, man, we're not even on campus yet! Stop thinking!" Jackson said loudly, causing a few other breakfast eaters to glance our way.
I cracked a smile. "Ok, sorry."
"What were you thinking about anyway?" he asked curiously.
"Just stuff," I shrugged.
"Hmm," he said in a knowing tone, as if he already knew what I had been thinking about. Thankfully, with a bright smile, he let it go. "Well, forget that shit; it's Friday, only a few classes, and then we have the whole weekend to lounge around like lazy asses. Hey, speaking of, wanna do dinner tonight with the UN?"
I laughed. Jackson was a pretty popular dude, and so was I merely by association, but as for our core group of friends, whom we were really close with, it consisted of a racially diverse bunch. Christopher Jean-Pierre was Haitian, Misha Grebennik was Belarusian, Jay Rodriguez was Dominican, and I was the Chinese, and Jackson the Filipino. Hence, the UN. In private or among close friends and family, we sometimes referred to ourselves as the "Gay UN" because all of us were gay.
Well, technically, Jackson was bisexual, but considered himself gay enough because he had kissed a couple guys and enjoyed it enough to tell us about it. He was just an attention whore and he would gladly receive attention or affection from men or women, just as long as he was getting it. I had coming out issues in high school, while Jackson was just really open and had an Americanized enough family where they weren't shocked to the core.
I went through a little depression faze, well, for most of my high school career because I was coming to terms with my sexuality, but the depression hit hard core around graduation. I guess I was battling with my future, what to make of myself, how to get myself out there. I hadn't really resolved any of that by now, my junior year, and that was depressing in itself. However, I had made more friends that I could kind of relate to.
Which brings me to how I met the other members of the "Gay UN." Jackson had an inkling of my sexuality in high school, but chose to let me come to him, which I never did, so eventually, he bombarded me. Especially when I was in my isolation mode and he was getting frustrated with my disappearing act. Anyway, we talked a lot and spent a lot of our summer together as usual, and by the time we started freshman year at the local state university, Jackson had one day handed me a couple printouts and fliers about LGBT communities, and online forum groups to discuss my feelings and issues. He realized coming out for me was much harder than it was for him and he was doing things to help me, which I was so grateful for.
"I'd definitely love to see them. I feel like we haven't seen them in so long," I said.
"We really haven't," Jackson said thoughtfully, "But it makes sense. Christopher started graduate school, Misha is doing that ABC internship a few days a week in the city, and Jay, well," he shrugged. "Jay is just Jay, working a billion hours a week."
"How is it that they're all miraculously free tonight?" I asked, somewhat surprised. Christopher and Misha both had serious boyfriends, and last I heard, Jay was dating someone, although it was relatively new, at one month.
"Cause Friday night is boys night and Saturday night is date night, duh!" Jackson grinned. "No, really, it was a stroke of luck. I had been emailing with them for weeks about this. Of course, it is left up to me to be the social planner, but," he sighed dramatically. "It's alright, I must practice for my future presidency of the Capoeira club come next Fall," he grinned.
"I didn't know you were emailing with them so much. How come I was never in on them?" I asked.
Jackson smirked. "Because I know you and you live next door, and whatever I do, you do."
"That's not true!" I protested half-heartedly, because I knew there was some truth to that, or in its entirety.
"It is true," Jackson said firmly. "You go to school, do homework, work, hang out with me and go to practices."
"You make me sound like such a loser," I groaned.
"Umm, I'm just stating facts. If anyone is making you sound like a loser, it's yourself."
"You're such an ass."
"Oh stop, you know I don't think of you as a loser," Jackson said soothingly.
I slumped in my seat and crossed my arms, pouting slightly.
"You're the coolest and greatest person I ever met. Why would I bother being friends with you if you weren't? I'm not gonna waste my precious time on some dork."
"I don't know, maybe because you've known me so long, that you haven't had the chance to give me the shake-off," I said immaturely.
Jackson sighed. "Ok, you're in one of your pity moments." He leaned forward. "Listen, you have so much potential, Mace, you just need to learn how to use it."
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"Stop being so afraid to put yourself out there. Great things can only happen if there's a possibility of bad things happening."
"Huh?" I asked in confusion. "Is this one of your hippie, Zen moments where you get all philosophical. Like that time you took that religion class sophomore year and kept sprouting Buddhist texts?"
Jackson shot me a dirty look. "And here I thought you were smart. No, what I meant was that the greater the risk of pain, the better it might be. Like, falling in love with someone, truly in love, well, if you were to break up, it would be devastating compared to a month long fling. You get it?"
I rubbed my forehead. "Listen, I'm tired and the carbs have made my brain a bit sluggish..."
"Whatever," Jackson laughed. "You asked for my speech the moment you got sad and self-loathing and shit. Don't dish it out if you can't take it."
"Ok, ok. So where and what time are we doing dinner tonight?" I asked.
"The Pizza Hut around 8. I was totally craving deep dish pizza and super oily, like so oily where I could create a side dish of soup out of it," Jackson licked his lips. "By the way, enjoy those empanadas last night? I was so pissed at my sister for giving so much away to you! She knows how much I love them!"
"I guess that's one person who loves me more," I smirked. "And I took great enjoyment in eating every last one," I said smugly.
Jackson elbowed me sharply on the way out.
"So," Jackson began casually after we ordered three deep dish pies. "Hadn't seen you guys in ten years. How's life?"
Chris, Jay, and Misha all stared at him, before cracking up in loud laughter.
"That's such a vague question," Misha snorted.
"Well, I don't know where to begin, so it's a very valid question; keep me updated on the current events," Jackson argued. "So you gonna be a bitch about it or answer the question?"
"Temper, temper," Christopher said with his trademark big smile.
I had always loved Christopher's smile. Damn, he was one good-looking Haitian! He was the epitome of "tall, dark, and handsome" and when I first met him, I had had a tiny crush on him. Nothing serious; I wasn't planning to profess my undying love any time soon, but it was fun looking or rather, gazing at him. He was 5'10, slender and looked damned good in his fitted jeans and button down shirts and sweaters. Light-skinned, big, dark brown eyes, and had a huge smile with very white teeth. His smile was so open and inviting, and his expression always seemed to be pleasant and friendly. It was hard not to stare at him; he gave off these sweet and confident vibes.
"Down puppy," Jay chimed in smirking along with Misha when Jackson furrowed his brow, no doubt preparing for a retort.
"Yeah, bitches, I may be short, but I can still kick all your clumsy, tall asses," Jackson shot back. "Wanna go? I'll take you both on, right now. Let's head outside," he cocked his head in the direction of the window.
"Please, we'd step on you," Misha said, stomping his foot, knocking the table slightly. He grinned, his hazel eyes twinkling with humor. I always loved Misha's features. Big hazel eyes, clear peaches and cream kind of skin. His jaw was a little wide and his nose a little long and hooked, but he was so good-looking over all. I thought he had a great look.
Jay and Misha were both over six feet, and lanky, so they were hardly intimidating. But they always loved teasing Jackson.
He rolled his eyes. "Seriously, though, anything new going on in your lives? Boy drama?" he asked excitedly.
Christopher laughed. "David and I are still going strong."
"Same here with Ian," Misha went on.
"The sex is still good with Martin," Jay chimed in, "So yeah, we're still together.
Our table erupted with laughter.
"You're horrible," Christopher said good-naturedly.
"Yeah man!" Jackson said bumping fists with Jay.
"He's really flexible," Jay added. "Can twist in some ungodly angles and makes the feelings that much better," he grinned.
Misha chuckled. "Let's make bets on how long things will last for poor Martin."
"I'll bet three more weeks," Jackson said.
"Does Martin like you a lot? He's going to get hurt," Christopher said, concern across his features.
"I told him right off the bat that I don't want anything serious, so if he develops stronger feelings, that's totally his problem," he answered.
"You're cold," Misha laughed.
"No, I'm honest. I'm protecting myself," Jay said. "Can't help it if others choose to get carried away."
"How `bout you Mace?" Misha asked. "Any boy caught your eye on that big ol' campus?"
I looked down at my hands awkwardly. "Umm, no, not really."
"Mace, he just doesn't know how to look," Jackson said nudging me.
"Jackson knows tons of people. Maybe he can set you up?" Misha suggested.
"No!" I exclaimed quickly. "No, no setups. That's just so awkward and forced. I wouldn't know what to do or say. No."
"You think that's a no?" Jackson asked smiling.
Misha pondered thoughtfully. "I think it might be."
I rolled my eyes and Christopher shot me a sympathetic look. "You'll find someone Mace. Don't rush or force it. It will come on it's own. And you're really cute. I bet you get lots of stares, you just don't know it."
I blushed at Christopher's words. God, he was so nice and good-looking.
Jackson laughed and nudged me. "Yeah, you are awfully cute. If you weren't my best friend, I'd snatch you up," he said pinching my cheek.
I slapped his hand away. "I wouldn't date you," I said with my nose in the air.
"Liar," Jackson said. "I'd so please you in bed."
I blushed again as our friends cheered and laughed.
"How do you know?" Jay asked curiously.
"We're like on the same brain waves or something. I'd be able to read your mind and all that sex-voodoo stuff," he said raising his eyebrows comically. "Hit all the right buttons."
I wrinkled my nose. "Uncomfortable area. New topic please."
"Ok," Jackson said perking up. "Me and the other E-board members are planning the batizado in April. You guys are gonna go and support us, right? And when I say us, I really mean me," he said. "It looks better if the future president can bring in a crowd."
"How come you're so sure you'll be the next president?" Christopher asked, laughing. "Aren't there others gunning for it?"
"Sure, but they won't win against me. Everyone loves me. It's basically a done deal," Jackson said.
"Don't jinx yourself," Misha warned.
"There will be no jinxing because I know it already," Jackson said confidently. "But back to the main point- you guys will come right? It's on a Saturday and only costs ten bucks. Well, only if you order the tickets in advance. This year, we're doing a lot of fundraising, and the show is flashier, hence more money."
"Ask again later. It's not even December yet," Jay pointed out.
"News flash; it will be December in two days and I just wanted to lock you all in now before you flake on me," Jackson countered. "So, in or out?"
"Fine," Misha said, "But send me reminders every now and then; I might forget otherwise."
"Same here," Christopher input.
"I'll see," Jay said casually.
"Assface," Jackson cried out.
"Ok, ok, I'm in. I hate when your little face starts pouting," Jay cooed mockingly.
Jackson flipped him off. Then he perked up as if an idea just occurred to him. "Another big thing or two things coming up in the winter months? Our birthdays," Jackson said pointing to the both of us. "We're ringing in our twenty-first, so we have to go all out. I'm talking, like, all out," Jackson emphasized.
"Oh?" I asked, as this was the first I had ever heard about any birthday plans. Our birthdays were only one week apart in January, so we usually celebrated together, at least with friends. For family, he had his own thing, which I usually crashed. As for my own family celebration, well, I had a small family, and it usually consisted of going out to eat. Sometimes, just me and my sister, if my Dad was working or at some doctor's convention. Exciting.
"Yeah," Jackson said as if I were dumb for even questioning him. "Huge party. I've been discussing it with some capoeristas and we decided going to a club would suck because bouncers can be total dicks. So we were asking around if we'd be allowed to have a club party, but would really be our birthday thing. I mean, most of my friends are in that club; we're like family anyway. We have a couple bites," Jackson said enthusiastically. "Hey, where's our pizza? I'm so hungry. God, I hate Pizza Hut. It literally takes ten years to get a freaking pie. Isn't this shit frozen? I am never coming here again. Who's idea was it?" he demanded.
Christopher, Misha, and Jay all exchanged amused glances.
"Umm, Mr. Jackie Chan wannabee, you chose this place," Misha pointed out. "Something about greasy pizza."
"And a soup made of oil," Christopher chimed in, grinning. "Or something?"
"I think you told me the exact same thing," I said laughing. "Oil soup." I wrinkled my nose.
"Christ, I think you're right," Jackson muttered. "Well, never again!!"
"Anyway," Jay drawled. "What were your plans for the party?"
"Oh, that's as far as I got. Club members, loud music, booze, food, everyone bring some kind of junk, and yeah, that's about it. An outline," Jackson said sipping his soda.
"Don't I get a say in this?" I asked.
"Huh?" Jackson asked. "Oh, um, fine. Any Ideas?"
I tilted my head to one side and thought. "Actually, no."
Jackson smiled smugly. "See, I figured. That's how well I know you," he boasted. "Now doesn't my idea sound fun? My friends are mad cool. And they love you, too."
"They don't really know me."
"You can be funny and mildly entertaining when you want to be," Jackson said nonchalantly. "Where the fuck is our food?" he asked almost angrily.
"Calm down, our waiter is coming," I whispered.
"Yes," Jackson cheered as soon as the pans were placed in front of us. He grabbed a slice and took a huge bite. He held up his fingers, and smiled. "Mm, grease."
"Ew, gross, get away," I screeched as he pretended to wipe them on my sweatshirt. "You're gross!"
Jackson laughed and shoulder bumped me.
December and January were the fastest months ever, in my opinion. December there was finals and the mad dash to get that last minute A, even if it was nearly impossible at that point. That was Jackson-style. And this time, he had to study for his exams himself, and had to do overtime because I had done a majority of his homework. I guess you could call me an enabler. Of course, it was my best friend duty to help him as best as I could, so we studied together, so whenever he had questions, well, I was there.
We definitely had a sick relationship- we were always together. I wondered that perhaps I wouldn't die alone; I'd always have Jackson. Oh and my sister. But not even, she moved across the country a year ago and once she gets married and starts popping out those babies, forget it. I'd be lucky to get a Christmas card. Being seven years older, she had doted on me as a young child, but we were never close. Not like Jackson and his many siblings. I was envious of him. He'd never be truly alone.
Once winter break hit and the holidays, I was once again depressed, in spite of the little parties and gatherings Jackson and I attended. Holidays were about family, and not having my sister around anymore, it was just me and my Dad, and being alone with him was so taxing and strained. We also weren't close and our conversations were so superficial. Most times, we'd pop in a movie, he'd read a book, and I'd chill on my laptop.
I was thankful that after New Year's, my Dad was out of the house again, working as usual. It didn't feel so stuffy, but at the same time, it felt really lonely.
I couldn't win.
I was just a lonely soul and I hated it.
I wondered if my life would ever change for the better or I'd continue to exist, but not really live. I mean, I wasn't happy. I just went through the normal motions of any soon to be 21 year old guy: I ate, I shit, I sometimes worked out and sometimes shaved (Asians guys didn't grow a lot of facial hair). I went to school, did my homework, jerked off, and went to bed. But where was that extra something that made life really worth living?
I had tried to convey my thoughts to Jackson, but it was hard because he didn't seem to grasp it. For him, his life was good friends, a close family, and a passion for Brazilian martial arts. How could he relate to me? I didn't have any of the things he had. I desperately craved it.
"Ready for our party?" Jackson said as he ran over to my house wearing just his t-shirt and jeans.
"You should wear a coat, you'll get sick."
"You live three feet away!"
"But it takes seconds to get sick or a chill," I said.
"Yes, Doctor," he mocked. "Trying to be just like your Dad, eh?"
I rolled my eyes and tugged him inside, into the warmth of my house.
Jackson had spent the beginnings of winter break planning our party, while we were in attendance of other parties. I was never a huge fan of parties- the crowds, the sweating, the loud noise, the random people pushing or touching you - annoyed me.
I'd much rather relax on my own or engage in something more intimate with people more meaningful. A bunch of insane, drunk strangers wasn't really my cup of tea. But hey, it was something to do and I'd do it for Jackson.
"Sure," I shrugged.
"You could at least pretend to be excited about it," Jackson said in exasperation. "You're always whining about wanting to have more fun. Well, here you go! On a platter."
"Alright, fine! Just because I'm not jumping up and down, or doing cartwheels doesn't mean I'm not excited. It will be fun, but it's just another party," I reminded.
"It's our twenty-first," Jackson said gripping my shoulders and shaking me. He smacked my head. "Live a little. You're going to get super drunk tonight. I'll see to it. I mean, vomit, passed out, major hang over- drunk. It's mandatory."
I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already leaving.
"I mean it Mace. I'm tired of you moping around. You don't think that makes me sad? You can only be happy if you make a little effort. Remember that, Mace," he said.
Then he left.
I was suddenly in a grumpy mood. Grumpier than before. I hated it when Jackson was right.
I cursed the back of my best friend's head.
Other stories by me:
True Love Will Survive- College, March 20, 2008, complete Turn of Events- College, May 14, 2007, complete