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Everything Jake: #807 Junior Year Second First Chances By Mike Rosenzweig Jake walked out of TGIFriday’s and first noticed how cold it was getting. Winter always seem to come early in upstate New York, a giant gray sky replaced the blue one in early October and sometimes refused to go away until May. Even at night it was still gray. Jake felt the gray described his mood perfectly. Pat was standing next to Jake’s modest red `89 Jetta. Not so much as standing as leaning, the Jetta looked tormented, as if the slightest wind would finish the job and send it rolling on its side. Jake could tell by Pat’s disposition that he was upset. It was just a gut feeling, Jake thought, and a tiny spark in his mind thought that it could be part of his power coming back. Think realistic, Bruno, you were berating your new roomie, who seems a little naïve and lost, he ran out in a fit, you see him slumped against your car and think that he possibly could be upset. Oh yeah, that must be telepathy, eh? Pat’s face was bright red and looked wet, even though Jake could not see any tears. He looked over at Jake, and Jake stopped his walk toward him. The anger in Pat’s eyes burned a hole right though Jake. Jake smiled weakly. “Pat… look…” “All my life, Jake.” “Pat, I have—“ “Don’t you think you’ve done enough talking?” “Ah… ah…” “All my life, Jake, I’ve dealt with it. The jokes, the looks, even worse, the pity. It’s not my fault I’m a little… okay, a lot bigger than mostly everyone. I’ve been able to deal with it. I’ve been able to laugh at myself and deal with it. But, when someone who I think is my friend… someone who I feel I bonded with on a different level… it hurts more than I can take, even for me.” “I’m—“ “Shut up, just shut up. You’ve said enough.” Bonded with on a different level? What the holy fuck… Jake walked to his car, stood next to Pat, and looked up at the sky. It was a surprisingly clear night. But Jake knew the gray was coming. “Orion”, Jake said, pointing up. He pulled his pack of Parliament Lights out of his pocket and lit the last one. He crumpled up the pack and tossed it over his shoulder. Pat gave a quick look up at the constellation and then looked back at Jake. “I know what fucking Orion is.” And then he smiled, started to laugh. Jake wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Was that the first time you ever cursed?” “Actually, no, the fifth.” At that, they both started to laugh. It started out as a small, ha-ha kind of laugh, and as they continued it started to gain momentum and intensity until they were both tearing and unable to speak. Standing was getting hard and Jake was leaning his full weight on one hand on Pat’s shoulder. He couldn’t talk, laughing so hard. The closest thing Jake could reference to laughing so hard was crying your heart out. Laughing your heart out and crying your heart out, not too different. Different shades of gray. Jake righted himself and looked at his smoke. It was more than halfway burnt down, a granny-ash, as Kelly would have said. He flicked it and took a drag. Pat had his hands on his knees and was still giggling a bit. He was breathing heavy and looking like a mountain slowing moving up and down, up and down. He looked up at Jake and eyed the cigarette. Jake followed his gaze, and offered it to Pat. Pat thought, if I’m going to break some of my dad’s rules, might as well break them all… He took the butt in his hands and took a drag. Pat coughed violently and smoke and spit flew out of his mouth. The cigarette was down to the nub and it singed the top of his fingers and he threw it. Jake watched as his last cigarette flew across TGIFriday’s parking lot into the slightly cracked window of a passing silver Grand Am. The car screeched to a halt and Jake yelled to Pat to get in his car, fast! Pat turned around and saw the Grand Am with it’s break lights on. The tires screeched in reverse as the car headed for Jakes, Pat was in the passenger seat as Jake turned the key. Curses and other colorful words came out of the Grand Am, and Jake hopped the curb in front of him and floored the accelerator, made a right turn on the yellow light by Franks Street and was a mile away before he exhaled. “I think we lost him,” Pat said, looking behind him. “I know we lost him, I don’t think he even followed us.” “Hey Jake…” “What’s up, Pat?” “This has been one of the best, not to mention worst, nights of my life.” “I’m really sorry about all the stuff I said, Pat. I guess there’s a lot that’s been thrown at me lately and—“ “It’s okay, I understand. Water under the bridge. Just do me one favor?” “Anything.” “If I ever ask for a cigarette again, please say no.” “I actually made that promise to myself the second I saw you take a drag.” They laughed again until they couldn’t breath, as Jake drove back to Gorney Hall.    
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EVERYTHING JAKE is TM & (C) 2000-2011 by Mike Rosenzweig. | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
