Is anyone else a bit ‘meh’ about Amy and Jake having a baby? Seems like such an obvious way of storytelling, I would have liked it if they decided they didn’t want to have children or decided they didn’t want them for awhile. A lot of shows follow the same formula or boy meet girl, boy marries girl, girl gets pregnant - was expecting something a bit different from B99 which likes to subvert norms.
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Summary: Jake and Amy have been best friends for years. One playlist with a couple of love songs on it may just destroy it all. (College AU)
(Read it on AO3!)
Sunny weather was exceptionally talented at luring people out of their houses, and today was no exception. The park Amy was currently trying to study at was getting filled with more and more people, who were setting up camp all around them. The consistent chattering and music starting to float over at an increasing pace were making it hard to concentrate, and Amy tried her best to turn it into white noise.
Unsurprisingly, it did not work all too well. She took a deep breath and looked over at Jake to find some kind of similar reaction, but her friend was far too busy balancing a pen on the bridge between his nose and upper lip. He was lying on his back, upper body held upright by his arms, head tilted back, and lips pursed as he motioned around to keep the pen on his face; to no shock to anyone, he looked rather ridiculous. It seemed like he had abandoned his studying some while ago already.
“Jake.”
There was no reaction. He was completely lost in his balancing game, like a baby fascinated with shapes and colours. Amy picked up her text marker from the grass and threw it at his face. It hit his cheek and Jake shrieked, flinching as the pen fell down, and he rolled over dramatically.
“How dare you-”, he started bleating and Amy rolled her eyes as she started gathering her papers and organizing them into a neat pile.
“Come on, it’s getting crowded. Let’s find someplace else.”
Jake stopped his bickering and looked up around them, just now registering how the meadow they were sitting in had filled up. There was a group of girls nearby, laughing and talking loudly while playing obnoxious music on a large speaker.
“You’re right. Let’s move.”
Jake leapt into a kneeing position and started shoving all his books and papers into his bag and they got up together, scanning their surroundings. There were groups of people studying or hanging out, and some loners who were either reading on their own or sunbathing. Jake started walking into a random direction, swerving around the cliques and Amy followed him. He kept walking, even past the parts that were already much less populated, until they reached an almost entirely deserted, separate part of the park, only a small spot of grass between the paths.
Amy let out a deep, relieved breath. Jake was scary good at assessing her; how he just knew that she didn’t like studying near any other people if there was a possibility not to.
He dropped his bags unceremoniously and Amy followed his suit, knees folding underneath her as she lowered herself onto the ground.
They were studying again after a few minutes, and Amy kept checking whether or not he was actually reading or writing down, or just staring off into space and fiddling with random items to distract himself. He had an important assignment to hand in next week, and she had promised herself to help him focus as much as possible.
A few minutes had passed and Amy was completely indulged in a text about Dickens’ homelife, when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eyes, and she looked up to see Jake ripping out grass and putting it into a heap next to the open book he was supposed to be reading. Like earlier, she didn’t hesitate and threw the pen she was holding at him, immediately ripping him out of his trance.
His eyes, now wide awake, flickered up at her and for a second, he seemed surprised to where he even was. Then he sighed.
“Dammit.”
Amy chuckled, and he pouted in response.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Yeah, but it kinda is.”
He rolled his eyes and bent over his book again, eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the page in front of him. Amy watched him for a few more seconds and slowly started returning to her own reading, checking every few minutes if he was still indulged in his lecture.
Fifteen minutes later Amy was knee deep in an analysis of a short story, when there was a sudden shuffle from across her and Jake jumped up, book still in hand, and he started pacing around their little spot while mouthing along to the words he was reading. Sometimes Amy believed that there was a constant electric current running through his body, making him jittery and nervous as soon as he sat around, not moving for too long.
Making several rounds, he passed behind Amy more than once and around the fourth or fifth time, she felt a flick on the top of her head.
“That was for the pen earlier.”
Without even thinking for half a second, she immediately threw herself around, arm stretched out to slap his leg, but he was already running away, laughing loudly.
They spent a few minutes playing cat and mouse, the aspect of next week’s homework and assignments was completely forgotten, pushed far into the back of their minds as they were too busy shouting and threatening each other, a joyous glint in their eyes. People further away were starting to notice Jake taking laps around their spot as Amy tried over and over again to grab his legs as he ran by, and some of them pointed at their spiel, laughing along, and Amy couldn’t find a bone in her body that cared what they thought of the two of them.
After five more minutes during which Jake stumbled to the ground at least three times, he held up his hands and called out “Truce” several times in between new fits of laughter, while trying to gather his breath. After the tedious work of putting away all their pens, books, folders and papers, they started making their way away from the park. Studying just wasn’t realistic anymore, because not even Amy could possibly concentrate at this point.
There was a silent agreement between them as they started making their way towards Jake’s apartment which was closer than Amy’s anyway, and once they entered the off-campus flat he shared with a politics students who was out most of the time anyway (though made sure that no one forgot he lived there by continuously leaving his dirty dishes all over the common rooms) , Amy dropped all of their bags onto Jake’s bed and he made his way towards the kitchen to prepare today’s dinner.
Jake’s cooking was by no means phenomenal or even good, but it kept him occupied for a long amount of time, hence why he liked doing it every night – and Amy’s cooking abilities were even worse, anyway.
“Ramen or pancakes?” Jake called out from the kitchen as Amy pulled her charger from her bag and then returned to join him.
“Pancakes.”
Jake was hidden behind the refrigerator door and slammed it shut with a grumble that sounded like “Not enough eggs” and left the kitchen as Amy plugged her charger into the wall next to the small kitchen table. One of its legs was shorter than the others resulting in a constant wobble, and neither of the chairs fit the dark brown wood (burned black in some spots from several cooking accidents).
“My phone’s on the counter, can you put some music on? Just choose a playlist. I’m gonna ask Lauren for eggs.”
Lauren was his next-door neighbour who had been objected to Jake’s begging’s for food several times in the past, but who never failed to deliver with a smile. Amy could never figure out how a college student like her could always have endless supplies of random food, but she wasn’t going to complain.
The front door creaked, and Amy turned to the counter where Jake’s phone was lain, the screen still unlocked from when he had opened his notifications mere seconds ago. She sought out his playlists in his Spotify account and scrolled through the random names, hoping to find something that sounded more appealing than “Study???” and “Concentrate pls”.
At last, she saw something that got her attention right away. She smiled at the memory it brought back, back to the day when they showed each other ridiculous songs, trying to out-do each other. They had created a playlist with such gems as Get It Up by M.S.I. (a song that always managed to make them both giggle like twelve year old school kids) and Reckless by American Crawl (really just its absolutely nonsensical lyrics were the most appealing part) and Jake had called it, just to spite Amy, “Amelia”, after her birthname.
She hated the name with a fierce intensity, refusing outright to tell people her real name when they asked whether Amy was a nickname or not. Only a few selected people knew about it, and Jake had chosen to abuse that privilege. Amy was used to his antics.
Still with a sly smile on her lips, she opened the playlist and went through the different titles she still remembered. That was, until there were at least a dozen songs she had never seen before, or rather not in this context.
She recognized quite a few older ones, like Come and Get Your Love by Redbones and Hooked on a Feeling by Blue Swede, and Amy was struggling to understand their purpose on the list. Jake and she had never listened to these songs in any similar context whatsoever, so why would he have added them to the playlist?
It wouldn’t hurt to investigate though, right?
There were faint voices coming from the hallway outside the apartment and Amy made a quick decision. She was going to find his playlist later, using her own Spotify account. She quickly scribbled down his account name on a piece of paper and shoved into her back pocket.
There was an odd feeling somewhere deep down in her gut, and Amy knew that this wasn’t something she should ask Jake about. She felt like she wouldn’t get the truth, whether he meant to hide it from her or not.
It seemed even more odd because they never kept secrets from each other. Amy had never felt like she couldn’t ask Jake about something (except maybe two years ago when they weren’t as close yet), but this was new, foreign. These songs bore importance in some way or another, whether Jake had put them on there consciously or not.
After completing her sleuthing process, Amy chose the first song on the playlist that they had put onto it together. The front door closed, and Jake turned around the corner, carrying two eggs in each hand. As soon as he heard the tunes of Get It Up, his face broke into a broad smile and Amy couldn’t help but laugh.
“Oh my god, we haven’t listened to that together in so long!”, he chirped, carefully putting the eggs on the counter, squatting down to pull a bowl out of a cabinet.
The pancakes were good as always – one of the few actually tasty meals that Jake was able to prepare – and sometime around eleven pm, he walked her home. He really hated the thought of her alone at night, and she was secretly thankful for it.
Getting home this late at night was always lonely business for Jake. Adrian, his roommate, was currently working night shifts at a petrol station, and it was all too easy to forget he had a roommate at all sometimes. The dirty dishes in the already messy kitchen were a loyal and constant reminder.
Speaking of which, the kitchen was even more chaotic than usual, but this time from dinner. Jake decided to do it all tomorrow (or Amy would do it, thank god for her hatred for messy kitchens) and just went to grab his phone, checking his notifications. As he unlocked it, the playlist from earlier was still open and he smiled as he scrolled through it.
At the bottom were a couple of random songs he had added throughout the years, and as he looked at their titles and artists, Jake really couldn’t think of a reason why he had put them on there. It had just felt right in the moment, which was how he went about most things.
There was a squeaky voice in the back of his head asking why he had decided to add specifically those songs to the list, but he ignored it pointedly. There was no reason at all, truly not.
Absolutely not.
The rather promising weather had prompted the group of friends to spend their afternoon outside once again, but now devoid of any books or workloads to plough through; Jake was revising lines with Charles for their upcoming play and Rosa was purposefully ignoring her own script as she kept interrupting their focused dialogues time and time again.
Amy was lain on the grass beside them, reading a book or at least pretending to; she was constantly shifting and staring into space as if lost in her thoughts. Jake had no idea what her sudden lack of concentration could possibly stem from; she was usually the one between them that had no issues whatsoever indulging in any lecture put in front of her. He was going to ask her later what was up.
“Those are stretch marks; they happen my lord!”, Charles said with a thoughtful, kind tone.
“It was a tiger!”, Jake exclaimed dramatically, throwing up his arms in the air.
“Oooooh, you received the manhood of a tiger!”, Charles roared, and Rosa started laughing.
“Honestly, I still don’t know what that play’s about”, Amy commented from behind Charles, having abandoned her book once more.
“Me neither”, Jake said, and she laughed.
“I’m going to the toilet”, Rosa announced before they could continue their horrific lines and she rolled onto her back to get up, her pixie cut messy and sticking up in all directions.
“I’m coming with you!”, Amy called out and she scrambled to get to her feet. Jake watched her with a tilted head. She was outmatching her usual weirdness today.
The girls left and Jake followed them with his eyes until they were out of view, gone into the nearest building which was buzzing with other students entering and leaving constantly. Shaking his head, he returned to the script in front of him and waited for Charles to continue his lines, but nothing came. He looked up with furrowed brows, confusion growing, and realised that Charles was staring at him with a broad grin. They stared at each other for a few seconds.
“What?” Jake asked, wide-eyed. Why was everybody behaving so weird today?
“How’s it going with Amy?”
There was a struggle to bite a smile back on Charles’s face and Jake felt like he was going crazy.
“What do you mean?”
This was getting really stupid.
“You think we don’t notice how you look at her?”
It was like someone sweeping him off his feet, although he was already sitting on the ground. What was he talking about? Was the whole world mad today? What the hell was he on about?
“What… I mean… What… What the hell…”
He was struggling to find the fitting words, which were eluding him entirely. How was he looking at her? What the hell was Charles implying?!
His sturdy friend gave a delighted snicker at Jake’s inability to form a coherent sentence.
“You always give her the biggest heart eyes, you softie.”
“I, WHAT are you TALKING about- “
Jake was definitely losing his mind right now. Heart eyes? At Amy? What kind of ridiculousness-
“Hey, calm down, I just noticed it.”
Jake found his proper knowledge of the English language again. “I do NOT make heart eyes at her. What the hell are you implying? You’re dumb.”
Charles was obviously having the time of his life, judging from his continuous laughter turning his face red and the fact that he was holding his stomach from all the giggling. He took his sweet time, spending a few painfully long minutes to just laugh and ignore his friends’ questions. Jake grew more irritated every second. Why was he being laughed at? This wasn’t funny.
“I’m not in love with Amy or anything- “, he started.
“Woah, I didn’t say anything of being in love! You came up with that”, Charles winked at him and a fuse burned through. How dare he imply that they were more than friends? Amy was like a sister to him, nothing more, definitely nothing more, this was absolutely ridiculous…
“I’ll come back when you stop being a dick”, Jake gritted through clenched teeth and he jumped up, grabbing his script and making sure his phone was in his pocket before he strutted past their little space on the lawn.
As it happened, Rosa and Amy were coming back, and Jake was walking right towards them. I do not look at her with heart eyes, I don’t, stop, I am not, his brain kept chanting when he saw Amy. God dammit. This was too much. She looked worried and he didn’t know why, he wanted to help her, but right now he was way too mad.
He dug the heels of his shoes into the ground and turned abruptly, walking back and past Charles once again, who was still laughing loud enough for everyone in a 20-meter radius to hear.
“Shut up!” Jake hissed again as he walked past and away, into a random direction, just to get away from all this bloody madness.
“Rosa, I need your advice.”
Amy made sure that they were out of earshot from the boys before she prompted the conversation she had been trying to have this whole time.
“What’s up?”
Rosa had a mischievous glint in her eyes; it wasn’t often that Amy needed advice from her. Rosa was the kind of girl who you could count on to be honest but not mean about it, which was why Amy had decided to ask her. She took a deep breath before she started her tale, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Her stomach was about to explode.
And then it burst all out of her and she couldn’t stop the words; they were pouring out like a waterfall, really making no sense but making all the sense in the world the same.
Two nights ago, after arriving home, Amy had immediately taken to listening to the songs from the playlist, and what she had discovered almost gave her whiplash.
Love songs. Nothing but love songs. Lines like ‘I’m addicted to you, you’re addicted to me’ and ‘I’ve been loving you, you been loving me, you’re my sweetheart’ were only the tip of the iceberg.
She would be lying if she said that the playlist hadn’t been recreated on her phone and been listened to nonstop for the past day. It was like a poison she couldn’t get enough of, a sickness that had invaded her mind and wouldn’t let her go. To say she was confused was grossly underestimating the situation; it was more like she was doubting every aspect of her friendship with Jake. What was she supposed to do if he was actually in love with her?
Amy’s monologue was finished right as they arrived at the loo, and both of them had forgotten what they were there for as Rosa sat down on a bench in the hallway. Amy followed her suit, chest heaving from talking nonstop, a nervous bubbling in her chest.
Rosa was rubbing her chin, staring ahead with narrowed eyes. She had yet to say something and Amy’s fidgeting got worse with every passing second.
“Can you show me one of the songs? I wanna know how lovey-dovey they are.”
Amy nodded hastily and wasted no time pulling out her phone, playing the last song she had listened to; Boomerang by the Plain White T’s.
‘As much as I try, you’re hard to resist
All that it takes is just one kiss
And I’m putty in your hands
I'm under your spell
You send me spinning…’
Amy stopped the cheery music. Her mouth was dry as cement and with all the chaos deep down in her stomach, she was struggling to swallow.
“Okay, that’s really obvious. What’s the problem, though?”
Amy gaped at her friend. Had she not just drawn out in detail why the existence of this playlist was a huge issue for her?
Rosa noticed her dumbfounded expression.
“The question is easy, though. Do you like him too?”
Amy’s phone fell out of her hand and she scrambled to pick it up, her thoughts sputtering and rotating wildly out of control.
In love with Jake? The thought was ridiculous at best. And anyway, she didn’t know if he really liked her anyway. This could all just be a misunderstanding after all. It was laughable, really. How could she possibly like him that way? He was her best friend, of course, and she spent most of her time with him, and he knew her better than her own sister…
“No! I don’t! This is gross. You’re gross!”
Rosa raised her eyebrows at Amy’s outburst. She was a small girl, but there was no way anyone could bullshit her.
“Sounds like someone’s in denial.”
“Not at all!”, Amy stood and started strutting back to the exit. Oh god, how could she look at Jake now? This was all so unbelievably stupid. Why did he have to create that damned playlist? If she could, she would hit him.
But there was no difference. She wasn’t in denial because there really wasn’t anything. He was just her best friend, that was all. It was his problem if he developed feelings for her.
Amy halted her fast pace and closed her eyes, taking a few practiced, deep breaths. Once, twice, thrice. She was getting mean now. If he did have feelings for her, of course she would try to help him somehow - she just didn’t know how. Or what to do. Or what this all meant.
Steps were closing in behind her and Rosa was next to her again.
“Calm down.”
She out a hand on Amy’s shoulder and prompted her to open her eyes.
“I’m okay. Let’s get back.”
Amy was ready to forget this conversation and all of its implications, but Rosa had other plans. As they stepped out of the building, she continued.
“I’m just saying that if that playlist is intentional, you gotta ask yourself what it means for you.”
Amy nodded, too busy looking at Charles and Jake far away on the lawn. She could see their mouths moving, Charles laughing, and judging from the tenseness in Jake’s shoulders and his ducked head, he was ready to pounce on his friend. Amy had no idea what they could be talking about, whatever could make Jake react like that. He was the most easy-going and relaxed person she knew – most of the time, anyway.
“And I’ve got to be honest, it doesn’t surprise me”, Rosa added, and Amy’s head whipped around to her friend’s playful smile.
“What?”
But before she could answer, there was a shout from the direction where Charles and Jake were sitting, and suddenly Jake jumped up, starting a power-walk in their direction. As soon as he saw them, his stressed expression became infinitely more desperate and he turned on his heel, walking back, into the opposite direction, and from the look of it, Charles was laughing like someone told him the funniest joke in the world.
What the hell was with Jake? And why was Charles laughing? What could possibly have happened in the four minutes they were gone?
They had entirely forgotten their conversation and when they arrived where Charles was sitting all alone now, he was still red-faced and laughing.
“What did you do with Jake?”, Amy asked, and Charles just waved his hand, falling into his back, holding his belly from giggling so much. She shared a confused look with Rosa.
They never did find out what occurred between the two boys, because every time they asked Charles about it, he would just have another giggle fit. Amy made a mental note to ask Jake about the incident sometime later.
The next week was spent pouring over the meaning of the songs and subsequently listening to them nonstop – they were still a really good compilation of songs; she couldn’t deny that – and the weekend was sure to come. Amy’s roommate Kylie, also a part of Jake’s theatre group, was out of town, which would have usually been a reason to celebrate the few days of privacy. However, Kylie’s illegally owned cat – they were still living on campus – was a reason for worry.
The cat, affectionately dubbed Dobby, absolutely hated Amy. She could not figure out why, and usually she would just ignore it like she always did, but Kylie had given her the task to mix the cats food with a bit of medicine after a light infection a few days earlier, which posed a bigger problem than it should have.
Dobby did not touch anything Amy put in front of him, ever. Understandably, this was an issue if it was supposed to eat what Amy gave him.
“Come on, it’s good food. Please. Come on. Please.”
Amy was squatting in the middle of the kitchen floor, a bowl of smelly cat food in front of her as she tried to seduce the black cat to get its medicine. Said cat was rubbing along the walls in the hallway, ignoring Amy’s begging’s pridefully.
Amy groaned as she pushed the bowl away, into the hallway, where it was still left untouched, and she let herself fall onto her back as she pulled out her phone and searched for Jake’s number.
He picked up a few seconds later.
“ ‘Sup?”
“Jake, what are you doing right now?”
There was a shuffle on the other end of the line. “Nothing, why?”
“You’re studying, aren’t you?”
A few seconds of silence. “I’m trying, I promise you. But these chopsticks…”
Amy rubbed the bridge of her nose, eyes closed against the dim light of the ceiling lamp above her. “Grab your stuff, and your… chopsticks? Come over, I need your help.”
Another shuffle and a rumble; he was already cramming all of his workload into his bag.
“Sure, why though?”
“Dobby.”
This was all the answers he needed as he laughed loudly, and Amy hid a small smile at the sound of his delight.
“Just be quick.”
“See you.”
The line went dead, and Amy decided to stay on the floor while she waited for his imminent arrival.
She was almost asleep by the time the doorbell rang and she drowsily scrambled to her feet to open it. Jake was in his pyjamas, obviously too lazy to put on anything else, and a smug grin was plastered on his face.
“What can I help the lady with?”, he smirked. Amy turned away, walking back to the kitchen as she mumbled profanities under her voice.
“Dobby needs his medicine and he won’t eat anything I give him, please help me.”
Amy grabbed a new pack of cat food from the cupboard and turned around to hand it to him, just to discover that Jake was still in the hallway. She couldn’t hear anything but cooing sounds and a quiet “I love you too!” and she walked back to the doorframe to see Jake squatting in front of her closed front door, caressing the cats tummy, which was rolling on its back and purring like crazy.
Amy sighed at the sight. She would never be able to figure out why that cat was so crazy after Jake, but so adverse to her. Every time he visited, he would throw himself at him like a long lost lover. On more than one occasion, when Jake had taken a nap on Amy’s bed or the couch, Dobby had crawled onto his stomach or any other available space on his body and slept there, curled into a tight furry ball. Amy actually adored cats, and Jake knew that Dobby’s controversial behaviour was a sore point for her.
Of course, he never failed to tease her about that.
“You done soon?” Amy asked with crossed arms and a cocked hip, staring down at the ridiculousness in front of her. Jake was now sitting on the ground and Dobby was climbing onto his legs, rubbing against his hands and purring loud enough for the neighbours to issue a noise complaint.
“Never”, he replied and shot her a mischievous grin. She groaned and threw her hands up in the air, stalking back into the kitchen, away from his laughter.
“He’s gonna die if you don’t help me with that medicine!”, she shouted and grabbed the rejected bowl, fishing out the little white pill with disgust. She loved cats and everything about them, except their horribly stinky food.
“Coming!”, he yelled and there was a rumble of limbs on the ground, presumably from him scrambling up to get to the kitchen as fast as he could. A second later, he jumped around the corner, Dobby close on his tail.
“Here you go, dick.”
She pushed a bowl with the pill inside and new cat food closer to him across the tiny table and he started preparing the medicine-infused bowl.
Amy went to grab his bag from the hallway (two chopsticks stuck out the front pocket, which she shook her head at) and when she returned, Jake was, as presumed, on the floor again with the bowl in front of his crossed legs and smiling and laughing at Dobby’s attempts to climb his lap.
“Get off, you need to eat.”
Dobby was having none of it, meowing in protest and continuing to rub his head against Jake’s hand, who was giggling like a child and softly advising the cat over and over again to eat his medicine.
Amy watched the scene with a kind of fondness only preserved for these little interactions. Jake’s kindness with people and animals alike was something she observed daily, but his love for Dobby was truly exceptional.
A broad grin snuck itself onto her face and there was a tightness in her chest, like she could explode at any moment. She really just liked watching Jake with Dobby, was all.
Wouldn't you like to, wouldn't you like to kiss her?
Wouldn't you like to, wouldn't you like to dance with her?
The lyrics by The Brobeck’s Love at First Sight popped into her head at once and Amy took a deep breath. This was unfair. How was she supposed to look at him being cute with a cat and not fall in love a bit?
Fall in love a bit?
It was like her own mind was daring her, threatening to push her over the edge constantly. Why would these thoughts just turn up and leave her flabbergasted? How dare they? Fall in love with Jake?
The cooing sounds got pushed to the back of her mind, a distressing background music to what was already a disturbing train of thought. Was she truly that dense? Had she really never thought about something like this before?
The question is easy, though. Do you like him too?
Rosa’s word popped up, and her mind was truly running amok. Amy turned away abruptly and stalked back into her room, needing just a small break from the cursedly sweet scene in her home. It seemed like he was invading her every single thought now; she couldn’t stop listening to that playlist and no matter what she did, questions and doubts would find their way into her mind eventually. Just last night she had tried revising one of her latest courses and was forced to take at least ten breaks in one single hour because her mind wouldn’t comply with her workload.
Two years ago, she had met him, and he had been the most annoying person to ever cross her path. He was just a jumpy, childish guy flipping around in the dressing rooms of the college’s tiny theatre, talking to everybody who couldn’t run away fast enough. She had honestly just been there because Kylie, who knew that Amy was rather reserved and wanted to help her make acquaintances, introduced her to her group of friends, mainly consisting of the small theatre group that put up a play regularly.
She remembered the first day when she met them all with Jake leaping from one room to the next, reciting his line at everything and everyone. He was so excited about their upcoming play that he had thrown a fork into a ceiling light, which delayed everything for about an hour while everyone scrambled to clean the mess and get a hold of a new lightbulb. That very same evening, she ranted to Kylie about the childish guy who was just disrespectful and annoying.
Kylie assured her that he wasn’t always like this and that he had just eaten too much sugar that day. It had sounded like a joke to Amy; could a grown person get that crazy on too much sugar? Was he a literal toddler?
It had taken at least another month for them to actually talk, and Amy had lain her first impressions to rest. He really was just that hyperactive when he ate anything containing too much sugar; he was just a bit absent-minded and random in general which were kind of adorable qualities if you thought about it.
And from that point on, they had just been kind of inseparable. It was the least likely friendship to form, just judging from how different they seemed at first glance. Kylie teased her for almost a year about having a supposed crush on him, which Amy always waved off.
Had she been right all along?
“I found chopsticks and I’m teaching myself how to hold them, look!”
Jake burst into the room and closed the door quickly, probably to keep Dobby out, and he had his bag in one hand, in the other the two chopsticks which he held in a very wrong way.
“That’s not how you hold them, idiot”, Amy deadpanned, quickly pushing the uprising memories of their friendship into the back of her mind. Jake’s face fell as if she had just told him that his uncle died.
“Really?”
He looked down with droopy eyes and she smiled at his dramatic reaction.
“Here, let me show you.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent ignoring her thoughts and teaching him how to hold the wooden sticks correctly which was a truly difficult task. Jake had never really been good at listening to instructions.
“Here’s your wine.”
“Disgusting. Thanks.”
Jake plopped down onto Charles’s couch opposite to Amy, who was sniffing the glass he had just handed her. He had his own cup filled to the brim and after a short-shared look and a silent nodding, they gulped all of it down simultaneously.
The sour taste mixed with the with the hollowness of his stomach were an awful mix and as soon as he put the cup down, he heaved several times, ignoring the gagging reflex deep down in his throat. It felt like the wine was trying to escape from his gut and he swallowed a few times just to be sure, face still twisted from the atrocious flavour. Amy was having the same experience, judging from her tortured expression.
“It really never gets less bad”, she croaked after a few seconds. Jake nodded with his lips pressed together tightly. The wine was still fighting its way up, but he was determined to make it stay down. He wasn’t here for the taste; only the alcohol in it, which was why they always bought the cheapest wine they could possibly find, because who cared for taste, right?
“On cheap wine!”, Charles hollered as he entered his small living room with a large glass in his hand before swallowing the whole thing with a few gulps. For a moment he looked like he was gonna empty it all out onto the carpet again, hunched over and breathing heavily, but then he straightened up and let out a loud “Whooo!” before leaving again.
“You’re all gonna die from alcohol poisoning tonight”, Rosa mumbled from her spot on the couch next to Amy. She had been silently sipping on the same wine for hours now.
“You’re drinking it too, though”, Amy remarked exactly what Jake had been thinking. Rosa shrugged.
“At least I’m taking it slow. I’m not gonna call the ambulance for you bellends.”
“Of course you will, you couldn’t just let this piece of ass die”, Jake winked and Amy snorted into her empty glass. He picked up a bowl of discount M&M’s from the floor next to him, but before he could shove a handful of it into his mouth, he felt a light kick in the shin. He flinched at the sudden jab and shot a glare at Amy.
“You’ve been eating those all evening, stop that.”
“You been ea’ing these all ev’ing, stop da!”, he imitated her in a shrill, mocking voice. Another much more powerful kick in the same place and he cursed like a sailor.
“Remember what happened the last time you were drunk and on sugar?”
Jake rolled his eyes and reluctantly put down the bowl.
“You woke up at a…”
“A bus station in a city five miles from here, I know. Thanks for the reminder, mom.”
“You what?”, Rosa asked, eyebrows raised. Jake groaned and sank into the couch as Amy took to retelling her favourite story of his. Rosa had been out of town at the time and obviously, nobody had ever told her about this before – which should have stayed that way.
“He ate a whole box of cupcakes for his birthday and drank like two bottles of wine, and then decided to go live in Sweden and thought taking the bus to the next city was the same as taking the plane. He got off where he thought Sweden was and declared the bus station his new home.”
Rosa was laughing so hard her wine was spilling over onto the carpet and she gasped for air as Amy watched Jake’s embarrassment with delight. He had resorted to burying his face in his knees and unsuccessfully holding his hands over his ears to block out the noise.
He couldn’t even really remember that night from over a year ago; the only thing he could recall was watching a documentary about Sweden’s nature that was running on the TV, sipping on a bottle of wine and shoving cupcakes in his mouth while the rest of the house was partying on behalf of his birthday. He had woken up freezing the next day, stretched out on the cheap plastic seats in a bus station he had never seen before. The rest of the night before his departure to his new life had been retold to him by several of his friends.
“I hate you”, he mumbled from his hiding place. She ruffled through his hair playfully, and he stilled at the shiver running up his spine.
Charles hadn’t mentioned their odd conversation or rather fight last week, and neither had he. Which didn’t mean it hadn’t left his mind.
It was no secret that he had difficulties focusing, but it had been getting exceptionally worse ever since. From chopsticks to rearranging all of his DVD’s first after chronological order, then alphabetical, then actors, then colour of the cover, Jake had been able to find any excuse not to think about anything closely lately. Which wasn’t working, of course.
Charles was a right twat. Without him, little gestures like Amy ruffling through his hair or smiling at him with a twinkle in her eyes would not bother him at all.
Would they, though?
Jake thought back to all the times they had been drunk together, whether at parties or just indulging in some beer and wine in the privacy of their bedrooms. He couldn’t really remember every single time, but he could definitely recall at least half a dozen occurrences where he had gotten overwhelming feelings of appreciation and adoration for his best friend, and he had drunkenly kissed her. It had all been platonic of course, as all friends just pecked each other sometimes when they were drunk. Charles was an expert at it; he had kissed everyone in their group at least twice. It was a miracle none of them had herpes.
Had it really been so platonic though? Had he been crossing the line between friendship and something more ever since they met?
Amy had never complained, and he knew that thinking about it just confused him more. Which didn’t stop his heart from softening a bit every time he made her laugh.
He just really liked making her giggle and smile. That was just a really platonic thing to do.
“You bitches ready to go?!”
Charles burst into the room again and Jake shot up, his dwelling over feelings and the like brutally interrupted. Although he would never dare complaining about it, because being tipsy and emotional was a catalyst for impulsive actions for him.
Charles was finally wearing a shirt that wasn’t covered in sauce stains, and he looked quite a bit drunk already, swaying lightly with a grin stretched across his face.
“Quit stressing me, I’m not done here”, Rosa mumbled, and she took another small sip from her wine glass. Sophisticated as always.
“Another cup before we go?”, Amy asked Jake, and he nodded. They quickly emptied the wine bag from the supermarket and when Jake stood, he could definitely feel the alcoholic effect in his veins, making his head sway, his feet unsure and his tongue heavy.
Rosa gave up and drank the rest of her wine in one big gulp before jumping up as well. Charles was already waiting at the door and they poured out into the street, greeted by the fresh evening air.
The party at Doug’s was already in full swing when they arrived, with music blaring from the windows up in the second floor where his flat was located. Jake knew almost everyone there and he made sure to greet them all; they were mostly people from his theatre group, either responsible for acting like him, make-up, clothes, decoration or music. There were only a few people from outside their club he didn’t know yet, and the gathered four or five girls were secluded in a corner, obviously too awkward to talk to anybody in this group that knew each other so well.
It turned out that Gina had invited them but not really thought about introducing them to anybody, so Jake did his best to engage with them and occasionally pull people over to make them greet each other. The girls seemed much more at ease after a while, and one of them – Jessie or Jenny – kept leaning against him and holding onto his upper arm while wobbling on her feet and laughing loudly.
The evening passed in a blur of conversations, loud music, dim, colourful lights and the near putrid smell of cigarettes and alcohol, and he even introduced Amy to the girls, which was pointless as always. She just glared at them all for a few seconds and mumbled a short “Hi” accompanied by a wave that seemed almost aggressive, before she pulled Jake aside and asked him if he was trying to have a fivesome tonight.
“I’m flattered you think I have the stamina”, he whispered, immediately receiving a punch in his side.
“Don’t be stupid, that girl is almost climbing you.”
Jessie or Jenny was still clinging to his side, but she had assured him several times that she was just a bit tipsy and unsure on her feet.
“You’re ridiculous. She’s just drunk.”
“Sure, and that other one hasn’t been undressing you with her eyes the whole evening already.”
Amy motioned her head and Jake looked over to a girl far back in the corner of their group. She hadn’t been talking much and thanks to his even more troubled concentration through the alcohol, he hadn’t been really noticing her much the entire time. She was looking at him intensely, eyes hooded and dark hair covering most of her face, and Jake could see where Amy got her suspicions from.
“Are you jealous, milady?”, he slurred with a crooked smile. She punched him again which he didn’t see coming. His eyes were just too slow.
“Keep dreaming. Have fun with your new girlfriend.”
She stalked away with that and Jake was staring after her, lost in his thoughts for a moment. Was she really jealous? She couldn’t be. She could never be jealous of him in such a way. He knew for sure that she only saw him as a good friend, nothing more.
He sighed and turned back to the girls, indulging in their deep conversation about dogs for a few minutes. Jessie or Jenny was stumbling as she stood, letting out a couple more loud giggles. His arm got tugged around and out of the corner of his eye he could occasionally see the secluded girl staring at him with hungry eyes.
Time to go.
With all his might and power, he freed his arm from Jessie or Jenny and announced that he had to get back to his friends, which was met with a lot of protest and whining from the girls. After three minutes of continuously saying goodbye and hugging each of them, even the staring one (she clung to him like an ape for about five seconds and they had to be the most uncomfortable few moments of his life), he finally managed to leave and he ventured through the dimly lit hallways and rooms, wounding around people shouting at him in the passing and a few couples making out, until he reached the kitchen, where Amy was talking to Rosa. She was leaning against the counter and holding her forehead, elbow posed next to the sink. She seemed really quite drunk.
“Aaaaaaaa-melia, there you are”, Jake slurred as he walked towards them in a zick-zack line, and the girls noticed him just now. Rosa had her eyebrows drawn as if she was trying really hard to concentrate, and Amy just looked very tired and worn out, eyes half closed and posture slumped. She put up her middle finger at him and he blew her a kiss, which made the middle finger raise higher towards his face.
“Hate you.”
“How you lady’s been this fine evening?”
Jake grabbed a bottle of beer from a box underneath the table and used the table’s edge to open it, taking a big gulp. He could barely feel the alcoholic effect anymore; he was too drunk already.
“Rosa played Twister with Doug and…”
“…and I got to meet him in places I really didn’t want to meet”, Rosa finished, and Amy let out a drawn-out giggle, eyes still closed. Jake nodded and raised his bottle in celebration.
“Great. You?”
He looked at Amy, who blinked at him.
“Hate you.”
He lowered his eyebrows and looked at Rosa questioningly. She shrugged.
“You drink much?”
Amy raised her hand and pressed her thumb and finger together tightly.
“Tiny bit.”
“You gotta stop drinking. Wanna go home?”
She shook her head and Rosa sighed.
“Take her home. She drank a bit much.”
“Okay, can you just wait until I’m back from the toilet? I don’t wanna leave her alone like that”, Jaime motioned at Amy who was now almost sleeping on the counter. Rosa nodded and Jake put down his beer, leaving to find the toilet.
It hadn’t even been three minutes, but as soon as he re-entered the kitchen, the setting had changed a lot. Rosa was gone, and in her place was a greasy-looking guy who was leaning close to Amy; she seemed a bit more awake, but still unable to speak in entire sentences. His hand was running up and down her arm and the other was getting dangerously close to placing itself on her waist.
“…all alone here and I don’t want you getting lost, you can come over to mine…”, were the only words Jake heard before there was a gross twisting in his gut and he leapt across the room next to Amy, who was wide-eyed and tense.
“What’s happening here?”, he asked in the friendliest voice he could muster. Amy shot him a look that said, “Thank god you’re here” and he nodded reassuringly at her before turning to the creep in front of them.
Jake recognized him now. He was a friend of Doug’s who occasionally came to their parties. He had always seemed like an alright bloke – until now. His brown, greasy hair hung into his dark eyes and he had a gross smirk on his lips. Jake would have loved to punch it away.
“I’m sorry, who are you?”, he said with an arrogant sneer and Jake’s hands twitched, involuntarily turning into a fist. How these guys could make his blood boil.
“He’s my boyfriend”, Amy said and wrapped her arms around Jake’s waist. He looked down at her for a second, too surprised to say anything for a few seconds and the weight of her against him. Even in his numb, drunken state, it felt considerably nice.
Idiot. She’s just doing it to get rid of the guy.
“I am. Are we done here?”, he jumped in on the lie, not even missing a single beat, and he stared down the greaseball in front of him, eyebrows raised high, who put up his hands and took a few steps backwards.
“Sorry, didn’t know this was claimed territory. On my way.”
And with that, he disappeared. Amy slumped against Jake and groaned loudly, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her up.
“Oh my god, I was so scared. You were gone for ages”, she mumbled into his shoulder.
“It’s fine, I’m here, don’t worry. Where’s Rosa?”
“She said som’thing of going to hide Twister ‘n left, suddenly he was here.”
Here speech was slurred, and Jake knew that it was definitely time to go. Still holding her waist as to keep her upright, he picked up his earlier abandoned beer with his free hand and they started walking towards the exit. A passing clock in the hallway told Jake that it was almost three am. Last goodbyes were passed around as they left and the night greeted them with its dim streetlamps and freezing air, sobering up both of them quite a bit, shuddering and huddling close to keep each other warm.
Wordlessly, their unsure feet led them in the direction of Jake’s apartment, which was located closer than Amy’s. It was routine at this point; sleeping at whoever’s flat was closer after a night out.
As they walked, breath turning into white smoke in front of their faces and the freezing air sneaking into their clothes and embracing them in a shuddering hug, trembling like leaves, Jake was hyper-aware of Amy’s weight leaned against his side. His arm was still around her waist, partly to keep her close because of her warmth but also because it just felt nice, and she was complying fully, almost crawling into his jacket with her head leaned on his shoulder and arms underneath his jacket wrapped around his middle.
The night was quiet except for their shaky breaths, dark except for the streetlamps and the stars in the sky, and Jake realised right then and there, at three am, walking through the winding paths of the city with not a soul in sight, that he liked holding Amy.
Chopsticks. Superheroes. Sad clowns.
Jake sighed. His mind was too weak, too influenced by all the wine, beer and whatever else he consumed to possibly hold off the thoughts any longer, no matter what he tried to distract himself with. She just felt too snug and nice to ignore.
Like a perfect fit. The way they moved at the same time and could read their thoughts in each other’s eyes, or how she laughed at his jokes and hit him whenever he made a bad one. The way she knew what he needed and wanted, how she helped him to study even though she didn’t have to, something no one had ever really tried before. The way she would revise his lines with him when he couldn’t find his acting partners or how she always ate his awful food. The way she had never even considered turning away and the way she was there for him when he was diagnosed with ADHD a year ago, which truly wasn’t a surprise to anyone, but still something entirely different as an official disorder to be told he had.
The way she made him happy by just being there for him.
They turned into his street and Jake released her (quite unwillingly) to fumble out his keys, struggling to find the required one and needing what felt like half an eternity to fit it into the keyhole. Two staircases and another opened door later, they fell into his hallway and relished in the warmth of his apartment.
“I’m so fucking drunk, oh god.”
Amy was leaning against the wall opposite to him and rubbing her eyes vigorously. Jake watched her through hooded eyes, so tired and drunk, it was as if his limbs weren’t capable of moving anymore, or rather like he didn’t even arms and legs anymore. He could have really just collapsed on the floor right now and died peacefully.
Amy looked up and her eyes were so droopy and tired, pupils widened from the darkness and alcohol, and they just stared at each other for a few seconds. Just from the look on her face, he knew that she felt exactly like him.
After five seconds of just looking, they broke into unhinged giggles. Nothing was really funny in particular; for Jake, it was just how stupidly drunk they were, how it was almost three am, and how he was pretty sure that liked her more than he should. It was all so ridiculous and funny, and he just had to laugh.
“Come on”, he muttered and started his slow way towards the bedroom. Amy walked in front of him, wobbly as ever, and he put his hand on the small of her back to steady her. Inside, he didn’t even bother turning on the light, but rather collapsed on the bed, kicking of his uncomfortable jeans like a toddler and pulling the duvet over him. The room was just barely lit by the streetlight from the outside, and with his face half buried in the pillow, he watched as Amy waddled out of her own pants and crawled in next to him. She was mirroring in his position, and they found themselves staring at each other once more, though now through half-lidded and almost closed eyes.
“I can never tell what colour your eyes are”, Amy mumbled suddenly, and Jake opened his eyes wider as if it would help to hear her muttering better, frowning.
“They’re brown, twat.”
She would have kicked him now, he knew it, if her body didn’t feel as much like stone as his did. Instead, she rolled her eyes.
“No, I mean like, sometimes they look hazel and sometimes something in between and I dunno… Just, they’re confusing.”
They stared at each other again, and Jake knew that a bomb could drop outside his window right now, and he wouldn’t have a care in the world. Nothing mattered right now, nothing but the way she was looking at him and how the air surrounding them was warm and thick and difficult to breathe in all of a sudden.
“I like it when you ruffle my hair.”
Rotten words stumbled out of his mouth before he could hold them back in. The world was spinning and turning, and the only thing he could see was Amy and her messy, brown hair spread out on his pillow.
“Like this?”
She reached up her hand and stroked through his hair once, twice, thrice, and a lazy smile spread on Jake’s face. It was even nicer than he had remembered, like someone reassuring and protecting him. Like coming home at the end of the day, kicking off your shoes and just sinking into your favourite armchair.
Her palm rested on the side of his face, fingertips curling around his hair above his ear, and the movement sent shivers and excitement through Jake like a current. Like something he could never get enough of; an addiction. Something he could wake up to in the mornings for the rest of his life, a sort of privacy and assurance he never knew he craved.
His nerves twitched under the scratching of her nails, and at once Jake felt so overwhelmed with everything, Charles’s accusation and the way she was looking at him right now. It all felt so right at this very moment, so his mind set out and he shuffled closer and before he could hesitate anymore, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers.
It was sloppy and drunk, how it had happened before, but this time it was different. She smelled like booze and coconut shampoo, nails digging into his scalp, but she didn’t turn away, and Jake couldn’t stop. She was invading his every sense; her taste, smell, sight, touch was too much to turn away from, making his heart pump with an unknown speed and ferocity. He’d have thought it to be weird to kiss her like this, his best friend, but it felt so right, like something he had been missing out on for such a long time, he never wanted to stop.
There was light pressure and suddenly she was kissing him back, and his heart was beating like crazy, like it was going to jump out his throat and burst in between them, ruining this blissful moment.
And with a slam of the front door and a loud, slurred voice shouting “HOME!”, the moment was over. Both of them flinched and pulled back with surprise, and Jake’s blood pressure was so high at this point, he was likely about to suffer from a stroke.
Sitting up abruptly which made his head spin violently, he listened to the noises in the hallway. Adrian, his cursed roommate, drunk even more so than Jake, made his way towards his bedroom opposite to Jake’s, and was obviously trying to be quiet about it, judging from how many times he whisper-yelled “Shhhh!” to himself.
Jake waited until the door in the hallway closed before he sank back into bed. His heart was still beating, and he could taste the alcohol on his lips. He turned to look at Amy and readied himself to confront what had just happened.
She was sound asleep.
A few strands of hair blew against him every few seconds with the rhythm of her breath, and Jake just watched her relaxed, smooth expression. She looked like a right mess, with smudged make-up that revealed her eye-bags and her carefully done hair resembled more a crow’s nest than what she had started out with at the beginning of the night.
Jake remembered the first time he met her. Kylie had brought her along to the first day of practicing his very first play, and he had foolishly eaten a whole box of ice cream earlier, rendering him absolute chaos in human form.
Amy had a hard time meeting new people in general, and he couldn’t imagine how put off she had been by him. The first few weeks of being somewhat acquaintances had been a lot of rudeness from her side and childishly ignorant responses from him. He couldn’t even remember how they got into their first actual conversation and resulting hangouts, but the memories of their original bickering made him smile.
There had never been space for his bullshit in their friendship. Amy always called him out on it before he could even make an attempt, which had driven him crazy for a while. He’d never admit it to her, but he was really thankful for it. It had taught him to calm down his jumpy behaviour and find ways to improve what had bothered him for years already.
She would never tell him either, but he knew that her social skills had improved tremendously ever since they met. A bit of rudeness (he called it rudeness, but it was really just cloaked shyness) was always still there whenever she made new acquaintances, but today she’d never be as mean to anyone as she had been to him. Or, perhaps he had been just an extra kind of annoying back then.
Amy looked so serene in her sleep, surrounded by a blissful aura, as if nothing or no one could disturb her right now. He had seen her sleep before and had always had this swelling feeling in his chest. He had never been able to name it; until now.
It was pride. Proud of her and him, and of being able to call her a friend, knowing that she was the person who knew him best out of everyone. She was the only thing in focus through his drunken blurriness. His head was spinning, making his throat close up, and he wished it would just go away.
His impulses took one final action of the night when he reached up and wiped away a strand of dark, glossy hair that was lain across her nose. His hand rested on her cheek and he stroked across it, savouring the sweet softness of her cheek under his touch.
In the far back of his intoxicated mind, he knew that tomorrow morning would be absolute hell, but the impending dread seemed distant, separated from him by the delightful alcohol in his blood. All he saw was the sleeping girl in front of him, who emerged like a hidden gem in his life. He’d never realized how truly pretty she was until a few weeks ago.
She was gorgeous, whether she was dressed up for a party, make-up and all, or lounging around in his flat in pyjamas and her hair in a messy ponytail.
This was bad. She was drunk, more so than he was, and he had taken advantage of it. She would have never reciprocated the kiss if she had been by clear mind. Oh god, he had to make this right. His stupid feelings couldn’t destroy what they had built for two years.
He was going to apologize first thing tomorrow. If she knew why he did it, it could change their friendship forever. He’d rather suffer in silence than lose her entirely.
The morning sun was unforgiving and loud, pushing against Amy’s eyelids so brutally, it was both torture keeping her eyes closed and trying to open them. Her throat was dry and raw, the disgusting aftertaste of alcohol still lingering on her tongue. Having experienced many hangovers, Amy knew that each one was horrible in its own way. This one was accompanied by a nagging in the back of her mind, a lose thought swimming around, telling her that something very important had happened.
It wasn’t until she was finally getting used to the light that she realized what exactly it was.
She wasn’t in her room. Disorientation took over as she couldn’t figure out why her window wasn’t opposite her bed anymore and why it was so hot under the duvets, until the furniture became shapes and she recognized where she actually was: Jake’s bedroom. She was crammed into his twin bed next to him. It wasn’t a sight she hadn’t woken up to before, as it was a habit to just sleep together in each other’s beds when they were too drunk to argue about who should or shouldn’t take the couch.
The difference was a distinct, sore touch to her lips and the far away knowledge that something had happened right before she fell into a drunken slumber, something so important it felt impossible to forget.
Her eyes wandered over to the shape next to her. Jake had pulled the duvet up to his chin, face half hidden in the pillow, sound asleep. His lips were slightly parted, emitting a light snore, and his brown, curly hair was all over the place, messy and tangled; how it always looked when he was hungover. He looked adorable in his sleep, and the realization of just how much she was attracted to him right there and then struck through here like lightning
Her eyes wandered across his relaxed expression and she noticed that under his eyelids, his eyes were moving around like crazy.
His eyes.
I can never tell what colour your eyes are.
Like a cold shower, all the memories from last night came pouring back to her; spending the party with Rosa and Kylie, complaining about her confused feelings for Jake and the resulting blind, drunk jealousy she felt when she saw that pretty girl flirting with him for hours. Of course, he didn’t think she was actually making advances; he was far too oblivious to believe anyone would do that.
He just wanted to be friends with everybody, the good soul he was. He had a talent for seeking out outsiders at any parties and including them any way he could. It was a natural reaction for him to help anyone in sight.
Then he had saved her from that awful creep.
And then they had got home, and she drunkenly confessed that she couldn’t figure out the colour of his eyes. It was really something she only ever noticed when she was drunk; depending on the light, his brown eyes had a fascinating, hazel shimmer. She would have taken that thought into her grave if it hadn’t been for the alcohol in her system.
I like it when you ruffle my hair.
And suddenly there was a kiss and Amy could barely remember it; only that in the moment, it felt nice, so nice, she never wanted to stop. There was but the smell of cologne and alcohol on his skin, his soft hair in her hands, a distant noise, and suddenly sleep had taken her.
Jake was still sleeping, and Amy supressed a sigh. The urge to reach out and stroke his cheek was overwhelming, but what if it meant nothing to him? They were both drunk.
But he had started the kiss.
Maybe he did mean it.
Last night’s intense conversations with Kylie and Rosa had forced her to realize that a mere friendship with Jake wasn’t possible anymore. The songs and the way she felt around him, so safe and no pressure to act like someone else, had been ignored long enough. The good friends they were, they had not given her a single chance to escape the inevitable, until she had been a right mess of feelings. It was confusing and all so clear at once.
She liked Jake, not so platonically, maybe even since the beginning of their friendship. She had just been a blind idiot all along. Kylie even admitted that her teasing of Amy’s crush on him had been meant seriously for the most part, because she had always thought that Amy had been aware of it.
Denial was one hell of a bitch.
There was a stretched out, scratchy moan replacing his regular snore, and suddenly Jake was blinking his eyes open.
They were staring at each other just like they had last night, and his eyes had a light brown shimmer. Amy’s heart stopped.
She was holding her breath, waiting for words to come from either of them. They didn’t.
Instead, Jake emitted a loud groan and closed his eyes, hands appearing from under the blanket to rub them. He mumbled something and Amy couldn’t understand a word he said.
“What?”
“I’m so sorry for last night, you were so drunk, and I was too, and you couldn’t even walk, and I’m so sorry…”
His ramblings turned into white noise while Amy processed what he said.
I’m so sorry.
He regretted it. He hadn’t wanted to kiss her. They were both drunk, and she had gotten her stupid hopes up. A small window deep inside her, something that had opened last night to allow her foreign feelings to enter; a possibility, something to look forward to, a different way to see her future, shattered with the blink of an eye.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. We’ll just forget it ever happened.”
She muttered the words quickly, interrupting his random mumbling, and she threw back the covers, scanning the floor for her pants.
“What?”
The sound coming from his throat sounded shrill, weird, almost surprised. She didn’t look back, fighting against the tears threatening to take over.
“I said it’s fine. Let’s just forget it.”
She grabbed her pants and put them with harsh, automatic movements. She had to get away from here, from him, his raspy voice and confusing eyes, or she would lose her mind. There was a record-breaking headache pounding behind her forehead, and she could barely think straight.
“Amy, I’m really sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel uncomf-“
“Jake, it’s fine. Really. I need to go home, shower and stuff.”
She stepped into her shoes and before she pulled open the door, she looked back to him. He was sat up in the bed, eyes wide and with a in definable shimmer in them, his stupidly messy hair pointing up like a stick figure’s. The blanket had ridden down to his lap, revealing the same shirt he wore yesterday. He looked like a little child alone and desperate in the desert, searching for answers, and Amy’s heart broke a bit at the sight. She hated to see him like this.
“And don’t forget to shower and drink water.”
He gaped like a fish and she was gone, closed the door behind her and practically ran out of his flat, down the stairs into the morning air as the tears took over, burning hot against the cold wind.
The following week passed in a blur and seemed to take an eternity to be over with all the same.
Amy hadn’t seen Jake in three days, and it was like someone was ridding her of something as life essential as coffee or sleep. The latter she wasn’t having anyway, because she spent more time lamenting about the world and her place in it and crying during the morning hours than getting the rest she badly needed, the playlist on constant repeat either playing on her speakers during the day or over her earbuds in the night. The songs weren’t his anymore, not a proof of his feelings; they had transformed into the soundtrack to her own misery.
Every time she closed her eyes, memories of Jake’s lips pressed against hers and drunken confessions rose again. The definition of sweet torture; she never wanted to forget those blissful moments, but they wouldn’t let her live her daily life the way she used to.
It took but a second of distraction, and there again was the smell of cologne and liquor, cold skin and a light stubble moving against hers, and she wanted to cry for hours, over and over again, because he regretted it and she didn’t know how to look at him anymore without feeling like an idiot. Her eyes were swollen and sore from days of crying, though no cold rag in the world could stop the redness.
One particular song, You and I by Ingrid Michaelson, had been playing nonstop.
Well you might be a bit confused
And you might be a little bit bruised
But baby how we spoon like no one else…
So, I will help you read those books
If you will soothe my worried looks
And we will put the lonesome on the shelf…
How lonely she was now.
Kylie, bless her heart, was trying to be as much of help as she could. But no cup of tea, bucket of ice cream or cozy blanket could cure a suffering heart.
Because after all, not spending time with him every day felt like someone had ripped a piece out of her, a comfort she had become so accustomed to, a routine entirely impossible to think away. Of course, they had been away from each other for weeks at a time before, visiting their parents or going on vacation, but never had it been like this. They had stayed in contact the entire time and nothing had ever felt off.
Everything was off now. He wasn’t there to tell Amy about his newest interests or to make her laugh, begging her to revise lines with him and cook her awful food.
It really shouldn’t have surprised Amy that it would be awkward after that drunken kiss, but the following days had been much harder than she initially thought. Vague memories of the weird guy at the party talking to her, absolutely horrifying merely because if it hadn’t been for Jake, he could have invaded her space even more. She doubted that he would have gotten her to his home, simply because he’d have had to navigate her to the front door and in the passing, at least a dozen people would have noticed what was happening. His creepy words and greasy smiles in the kitchen were still a scary picture to remember.
That, and the rejection had made it impossible to interact with Jake normally the next day. They had planned on cleaning his kitchen, but the air had been thick in the room, stuffy, not breathable and barely illuminated because of that cursed ceiling light that wasn’t working properly.
Even the quiet music that played while they emptied out the cupboards and cleaned them couldn’t make the quick side-glances and mumbled apologies when they brushed against each other less awkward. They hadn’t made new plans and even their text conversations were weird; reserved, without the usual insults, almost polite.
They saw each other again three days ago for a group-hangout with several other of their friends, but no support by Kylie could prepare Amy for how awfully forced their conversations now were. Previously filled with profanities, random thoughts and bad jokes, replaced now by awkward pauses and non-existent eye contact. As if they were trying to talk to each other from opposite sides of a highway.
Currently, the only answer to her problems Amy was responding to, was the idea of hibernating, which was why she hadn’t left the apartment in the past three days and spent all of it in her bed or at the desk. She had cancelled two more soirees and entirely given up on cleaning her room, something she usually did at least every two days. Kylie had given up on giving her pep talks and just left the occasional tea in the door. Rosa even came by once, sorrowful eyes and worry lines written all over, softly asking if this could be just a misunderstanding.
Amy couldn’t help but entertain the possibility because it gave her just the slightest bit of hope, that it could all be as it used to be or even better, but it was so unlikely. Was it really a misunderstanding if the first thing he did after waking up included an apology for what he did? An admission of regret?
“Amy?”
The voice was quiet and small, and Amy turned from a spot on the ceiling that looked a lot like a green tree towards her opened door. Kylie was peeking in around the corner.
“What?”
Her voice sounded raspy from not talking for at least a day. She couldn’t have cared less.
“Tonight is Gina’s gig, and I know you feel really awful, but it would break her heart if you didn’t come.”
Amy closed her eyes and revelled in the warmth of her bed. Dear god, she had completely forgotten about Gina’s gig. She occasionally danced for a small band consistent of some friends she didn’t know, and she had invited all of them to their first official gig at a local bar over a month ago.
All of them.
“Will Jake be there?”
Kylie pressed her lips into a thin line. “I don’t know, probably. But come on, you have to get out of the house, and you know how unforgiving Gina can be. I can make sure you don’t have to talk to him for the entire evening, alright?”
Amy twisted and turned under the blanket, unsure of what do to. The air in her room had become stale a long time ago and she knew that if she didn’t move out of her bedroom soon, she would get seriously depressed. On the other side, it was the one place where she was safe from confrontation, safe from the outside where he was, where he couldn’t make her feel like having lost opportunity.
She missed him, so badly. Amy would give anything in the world to reverse time and have it return to the old times, before the kiss, before the playlist, when everything was still okay.
“Okay. How much time do I have?”
She threw back the covers and made a slow business of sliding out of the bed onto the floor, crawling over to her drawer and collection a fresh pair of underwear.
“Almost three hours.”
“A’ight.”
Amy sat back and thought for a few seconds before pulling out her favourite, velvet black t-shirt. If she had to go already, she could at least try her best to feel good about it.
“I’ll make you coffee. And hey, Amy?”
“Yeah?”, Amy answered as she grabbed a pair of black jeans from underneath her bed.
“I’m really glad you’re coming.”
She looked over to the door, but Kylie was already gone. Nobody saw her little smile.
Amy and Kylie arrived at the bar arm in arm. It was dark already, and lights from the inside were illuminating the street and they heard loud music playing, roaring and screaming, laughter and conversations. Amy felt like turning around and never coming back, flat out refusing to meet anybody inside and worst of all, having to see Jake, but Kylie’s pull on her was determined and unescapable.
The door was wide open with people standing in the frame and on the sidewalk, spilling into the street, talking and smoking with drinks in their hands as they did. Kylie walked past them, and Amy struggled to match her pace, the chaos worsening as they crossed the threshold into the bar.
Amy knew the pub from previous nights out, and her eyes immediately wandered to the far end of the room, where she knew a little stage was located. The band was scrambling to build up their equipment, and Gina was in the middle of it, about as stressed as a middle-aged mom of four, jumping around and talking to people a few seconds before turning to the next and trying to build up the equipment all at the same time
“There they are”, Kylie shouted at Amy over the loud ACDC song playing from the speakers overhead and pointed at a corner table where Rosa, Doug and Charles were sitting already - thankfully no Jake in sight.
As soon as they saw the two of them, Charles started hollering and shouting about how Amy had come back from the dead which she reciprocated with a sarcastic smile.
“There she is! Wanna go get drinks?”
Rosa flashed her a smile and Amy nodded as Kylie released her to sit down next to the guys. They wound through the chattering crowd up to the bar, where Rosa yelled her orders at the busy barmen. The counter was covered in sticky liquid and there were little bowls of crisps and peanuts all over it. Amy refused to rest her hands on it, so she looked around, scanning the crowd for familiar faces, a task made much more difficult by the faint light from overhead.
“He’s not here yet. You’re fine”, Rosa shouted over the noise and Amy flinched around. Her eyes were understanding, and she put a hand on Amy’s shoulder.
“He hasn’t been around lately. I don’t know if he’ll come, to be honest.”
Amy nodded thoughtlessly. Not coming? Jake lived for happenings like these. If she managed to appear and he didn’t, the world was really out of order then.
“I’m gonna go to the toilet, I’ll be back in a sec!”, Amy yelled at Rosa, who was watching the bartender prepare their drinks. She nodded and shot her another smile.
Immediately, Amy wound her way through the crowd once again, occasionally tugged at by acquaintances and drunk guys who didn’t know boundaries anymore. The stiff air and bodies pressing in on her were getting a bit too much, and the second she entered the bathroom, the music and voices got a bit muted, and she breathed deeply once, twice, thrice, and leaned against the tiled wall, staring at the wall covered in graffiti and stickers opposite to her. The light wasn’t better, but the noise appeared distant and it didn’t stink as much like cigarettes anymore.
This wasn’t her first night out at a pub, but it felt different. Everything had shifted a bit, and she couldn’t handle the people and noise anymore. As if she was losing her footing, constantly on the edge of stumbling over and falling to the ground.
A few minutes passed as she collected herself and completed a few more breathing practices to calm down her anxiety. She felt a bit more self-controlled now, still a bit stressed but not enough to make her turn and run away.
After checking her appearance in the mirror again – the velvet shirt had been a good decision, she felt much more confident than she would have in another regular outfit – she pushed open the swing door and before she could fight her way through the bar once more, someone ran into her side, forcing her to lose footing for almost a second.
A hand grabbed her arm and steadied her, and she turned around to Gina. Her eyes were wide, and her hair looked like a rat’s nest, stressed panic written into her heaving chest and desperate eyes.
“Oh god, Amy, please help me, Felix brought the drums just now and I need someone to help me build it up and I can barely find anyone, only- “, shhe started rambling and she held up her hands.
“Calm down, I’ll help. Just show me the way”, she shouted over the music. She released a shaky breath and smiled weakly, before pulling her along out of the bar, into a side street where a car was parked, trunk open to reveal masses of equipment she couldn’t have named to save her life.
“He also brought all of the sound and speakers and we have to do it all now or we’ll lose the gig. Just bring it all in there”, she pointed at a side door to the bar that was devoid of people, “to the second door on the left, it leads onto the stage, just put it down and-“
“I can do it Gina, now go do other stuff you need to do. I’m fine.”
She reassured her with a smile meant to be encouraging, and she gave her a quick hug and a “Thank you, you’re a life saver, I’m so stressed, oh God”, before running back inside.
Amy was alone now, and she examined everything in the trunk. Huge speakers, tons of cables, and an entire drum-set. Without help, it would take an eternity to transport it all into the bar.
The echoes of steps came nearer, and Amy looked up to the side door to see who was coming.
It was Jake, dressed in his favourite black shirt (she knew it was his favourite because he could spill anything onto it and it would never show up) and jeans, and for a second when they locked eyes, he stilled.
It had been days since she had last seen him, and it felt like an eternity now, standing in front of him. It was too dark in the street to see his eyes and his face was serene, calm, so unlike his usual bright self.
“Hey”, he muttered and disrupted the silence. Without another look, he stepped past Amy, picked up one of the bigger speakers and turned away to disappear into the hallway again.
Just before he entered, he turned to Amy again.
“Did Gina ask you to help her, too?”
Amy nodded wordlessly. She had no idea what to say; Jake had never been so quiet in her presence before; so cold. The knife that had been stuck in her gut for the past week twisted vigorously.
“I’ll take the heavier stuff.”
With that, he disappeared, and Amy was left to stare where he stood mere seconds ago. This was not how she had imagined talking to him again, but there wasn’t much space for exploration either.
This was their friendship now. Destroyed forever. Gone with the blink of an eye, a drunk kiss, an accidental confession. The songs had never meant anything.
The anxious throbbing in her throat was suffocating, forcing tears into her eyes and Amy did her best to steady her shaky, troubled breathing. Maybe they just needed a few weeks to get back into it again. Maybe it was just a transitional time.
Clinging to this wee glimmer of hope, she slowly picked up a bundle of cables and put one foot in front of the other, one, two, one, two, eyes locked onto the ground, and forced herself with all her might to do Gina the favour he had asked for. She was here for her friends, nothing else.
With Jake’s help, it took only ten minutes to move all the contents of the car onto the stage, where the band was scrambling to put it all together. Gina was amidst it all, shouting orders and trying to soundcheck everything at the same time, and it passed in a blur of accidental eye contacts and light brushing against Jake as they passed each other in the hallway. The darkness hid his features well enough, so she didn’t have to look at him directly, not forced to see his hazel or brown eyes, which was the main reason why she didn’t start crying there and then.
How she’d have loved to just hug him, make sure that the warmth of his body she was so used to was still there and present as she shared thoughts and anecdotes, but all the known affection was gone, replaced by an unknown distance, so foreign and awful.
Once she saw that the trunk was empty, she just disappeared inside and let Jake tell Gina that the deed was done, and she elbowed her way through the crowd that had somehow grown even more in the time she was gone, to the table where Kylie and Rosa, her only support through this ordeal, were sat laughing with Charles, Doug, and some other people that had turned up by now.
Amy waved at Jim, Darren and Bonnie accompanied by a fake smile, and she sank into the booth next to Kylie and wrapped her arms around her waist, burying her face into the smooth fabric of her jacket.
“You okay?”, Kylie whispered into her ear over the shouting and roaring of the people, and Amy shook her head, still hidden in the cozy clothing.
“It’s awful”, she mumbled, “everything is awful, and I want to die.”
Kylie rubbed her arm and Amy looked up to her pitying eyes. Kylie was so sweet and helpful, like she had been since the beginning of their friendship, and she would never ask for anything in return.
Normally, Amy would kill anyone who dared taking pity on her, but she was too weak to protest. She just let it happen.
“It can’t be that bad, come on.”
“He barely even looks at me”, Amy mumbled, and the tears welled up again.
“Hey now, it’s fine, come here”, Kylie cooed and wrapped her arms around Amy, enveloping her in a snug hug. Amy inhaled her sweet perfume and calmed down her panicked breathing once more, pushing away thoughts and doubts that kept spilling into her mind.
The hug lasted a few minutes, Kylie just rocking her back and forth and hushing soothing words, until Amy decided that her suffering had gone one long enough – for now, at least.
She lifted her face from her hiding spot and blinked at the group around her. They didn’t even notice her breakdown, which she was thankful for; they were too busy talking and laughing.
“I need a drink”, she mumbled, and grabbed a bottle of beer that was stood near her on the table. Charles gave her a playful gasp, before he stole Doug’s beer out of his hand.
“Are you sure you wanna drink that? Remember what last time happened when you were dru-“
“Shut up or I’m gonna strangle you with a cable”, Amy interrupted her well-meaning friend and took a big gulp. It was stupid, but necessary. Kylie sighed and turned back to the group as well.
“Just tell me if you need anything”, she mumbled, and Amy nodded. Under the table, she took her hand and squeezed it, and Kylie squeezed back. At least she had her roommate – and Rosa too, for that matter. She was the only one who had witnessed the mini-scene and she gave her a sad smile over the table, mouthing “You ok?”. Amy waved it off and drank more beer. She definitely needed it.
Jake barely came to the table, and when he did, Amy took to inspecting the label on her beer bottle as if it was the most interesting list of ingredients on earth. The tenseness between them was so thick, even the others were starting to notice it. How couldn’t they, when they used to babble and laugh at each other non-stop, and now barely even exchanged looks?
Jim watched their on-existent interactions with questioning eyes every time Jake was around, an expression that lasted on Amy for a while after Jake disappeared and she just smiled reassuringly. Jim was nice, a lanky guy who preferred to watch what was happening around him most of the time rather than participating in everyone’s shenanigans.
Bonnie, respectful and curious all the same as always, leaned over once and whispered, “Everything okay with you two?”, which Amy responded to with a thankful kiss on her cheek and a “No, but thank you for asking.”
The band, surprisingly good, was in full swing about an hour into the evening, and thanks to the nonsense conversations about the art of making pasta burn and how Doug almost beat up a guy with his grandmother’s crutch once, Amy was distracted enough to forget everything for just a short while, able to ignore the hollow burning in her chest.
A new song started, only the sound of the guitar and the rhythmic beat of the drum, building up to the first few lyrics. The singer started reciting words Amy knew all too well.
“Imagine me and you, I do
I think about you day and night, it's only right
To think about the girl you love and hold her tight
So happy together…”
Amy couldn’t believe it. Of all the songs in the world, one of the twelve on that playlist was playing right now; Happy Together by The Turtles.
She tensed up immediately, shoulder rigid, fists clenched, and she held her breath as she listened, eyes searching through the crowd to find the band.
As she observed the room, she found a brown pair of eyes she would have recognized anywhere. Jake was a few booths over with a group of people she barely knew, and by pure coincidence, they had found each other.
Someone stepped into her line of sight, and when they were gone, Jake had turned away again, towards the people he was engaging with tonight. Amy scanned them all one by one to try and remember any names, and her breath hitched when she saw that cursed girl from a week ago by Jake’s side again.
Thank god she wasn’t hanging off his arm again, or Amy would have had a drunk fit. Instead, she was leaning in close, laughing at literally everything he said and staring at him through her lashes with heart eyes.
Amy knew Jake well enough to know that barely even half of what he said was funny enough to make someone laugh as much as that girl did. Everything about the way she twirled her hair and how she leaned into him every time she giggled said that heavy flirting was going on.
“Hey, you okay?”
Kylie was by her side again, and Amy realized that she had been squeezing her friends’ hand more than what was considered comfortable. Amy didn’t respond and Kylie followed the spot her eyes were fixated on. She gave a heavy sigh.
“I know her.”
Amy adverted her eyes and waited for Kylie to continue.
“She could never compare to you. Don’t worry about it.”
She squeezed Amy’s hand, and she nodded stiffly. Friends could be the best liars at times, but it didn’t calm down the roaring and screaming in her stomach; the urge to jump up and pull that girl out of the booth, away from Jake. Her Jake.
Whatever the girls name was; she could surely compare to Amy. She was much prettier and obviously knew what to do to please guys. Jake was just too damn oblivious to notice her flirting, and it was the only thing that gave Amy solace.
Her eyes kept wandering over to the hurtful scene a few tables over and as the evening progressed, the girl was hanging off his arm again. Kylie and Rosa truly did their best to include her in the conversations and keep her mind occupied. It helped for most of the time, except for the few seconds when she couldn’t get herself to focus and what was being said, and her mind kept going over it all again.
She wanted to kiss him again, she wanted to be with him, she was definitely in love with him and had been for a long time, and he regretted what happened. They weren’t friends anymore, or at least not the way they used to be. And right now, there was a pretty girl on his arm batting her lashes at him, and she was like the manifestation of everything going wrong in Amy’s life right now.
She couldn’t blame her. He looked good in his favourite T-shirt, the material hugging his torso just the right way to make a girl look, eyes always bright and laughing, constantly a funny line on his lips. He was a real catch. And in the end, if the girl made him happy, shouldn’t she be glad for him?
The beers kept coming and coming, and Amy was soon drunk enough to draw out an entire life for Jake and his new girlfriend. It was devoid of her, surely because she was somewhere crying about her lost friendship, filled with regret and useless hate for that girl. And for Jake, for being blind and for being way too good for her.
“You look like you’re spiralling, Amy. Wanna go home?”
Kylie was by her side once again, and Amy nodded. She hadn’t looked towards them for a while now, busy staring into space.
“I’ll walk off the alcohol. It’s fine.”
And with that, she grabbed her jacket and escaped the music, people and Jake-filled hell.
“God damn ignition, I’m literally gonna buy a new fucking car…”, Jake cursed as he turned the key again. The motor died once more, and he sighed, sinking back into the seat. How he hated this car and its mood swings. He knew it would turn on eventually, but he just wanted to go home. Tonight had been too much for him.
It wasn’t like Gina had forced him to come already, after a week of hiding in his flat and lying face-down on the floor, hating everything he had ever done and would do. Amy was missing in his life like the last piece of a puzzle; nowhere to be found, almost impossible to get back and keeping the picture from being whole and the way it should be. The soundtrack to this all was the playlist he had added these love songs to, so blindly and unknowingly. It was like his mind had been telling him all along that he actually liked her, really liked her, compelling him to associate suggestively romantic songs with her name, and he had never realized his stupidity until he listened to the playlist fully a day after their drunk kiss.
But he couldn’t force her. The way she had run away the morning after that stupid kiss he initiated, there was truly no hope left for his feelings to be reciprocated. She was avoiding him so much that he had been forced to do the same; barely turning up to hang out with his friends anymore, too depressed to do anything at all. Studying had never been harder; it was already difficult without her around, but with the constant thought of having lost her, it wasn’t even an option anymore.
They couldn’t talk anymore. Everything had changed for the worse. Cleaning out his kitchen almost a week ago had been a right nightmare, and the blank stare she had given him earlier when he walked out of the pub to move more equipment had been more than enough. She was so quiet and reserved, the way she used to be at the very beginning, and it stole his reason for laughing, breathing, almost existing.
The way she refused to look at him whenever he had visited her table had given him the last kick into the void. She had been wearing her favourite velvet shirt – she liked it so much because it complimented her form well without showing any cleavage, a fact he couldn’t help but notice as well tonight. He felt like crying, screaming, punching everything in his way, but instead he had put on a cheery smile and talked to some people he knew from earlier parties. And then one of the songs had started playing, and suddenly he had been staring into her oaky eyes across the pub.
Did she miss him as much as he did? Or did she really regret their kiss that much?
She must be. He knew how reserved she was, how much she needed the few friends she had. But she hadn’t even attempted to talk to him all evening. She’d had a whole table of friends to interact with, anyway.
It was eating him inside out. He had wanted nothing more than to walk over and hug her, mumble apologies and bask in her presence once again, laugh and tease her. Not to speak of the memories of her lips on his; they haunted him every night. Drunk or not, no kiss had ever stayed in his mind like this one. Nothing had ever made such an impression on him that even a week later, there was the occasional phantom scratch behind his ear, making him shiver. Not to speak of the fact that every time he tried to sleep, all his mind could possibly focus on was sweet coconut and soft lips on his.
But they were gone, and they would never get drunk together again to watch a horrible movie. No more bad comedy specials and no one to share his random thoughts with, no one to help him study and remind him of the most basic things, to interrupt his rambles and just think of the little things he tended to forget.
He felt entirely lost without her. Empty. And no party or new acquaintance could fill the void Amy had left behind.
With a heavy heart and numb limbs, Jake tried top start the engine once again. This time was a success, and the motor sprung on, running smoothly.
He was about to reverse out of his parking spot, when he spotted a lone figure trudging along the sidewalk, towards his car. There was no way he couldn’t recognize her walk anywhere, and despite all the hurt and sorrow, doubts and denial, the second he saw that she was walking alone in the street, he made a quick decision.
Stretching to open the drivers side door, he called out “Amy!” right before she passed his car. She flinched and her bowed head shot up, eyes wide.
“Are you going home?”
She was looking at him like he was an alien, entirely foreign. Punches and holes in his heart.
“Yeah”, she mumbled quietly. He was pretty sure it was the first thing she had said to him all evening.
“Hop in, I’ll drive you.”
“Jake, it’s not necessary, really-“
“Please.”
He knew exactly to put on his best puppy dog eyes to convince her to anything. He could tell she was a bit tipsy, just how she was speaking and lightly swaying on her feet. Their staring contest lasted for a few seconds, but she succumbed eventually. Whatever their friendship was right now aside, even she knew that letting him drive her was likely the most sensible thing right now. The way she held herself though, her rigid shoulders and stiff arms, hands buried in their pockets, indicated that she was not in the best mood.
Jake had survived her tempers during her periods and fits when she complained about teachers or students. He could handle it.
She climbed in and closed the side door with a loud bang, stubbornly staring out of the window to her left, crossed arms and all. Jake couldn’t help but watch her for a few seconds, waiting, hoping that she might just say something. But, no.
He couldn’t handle it.
“You can put on some music”, he mumbled as he finally reversed out of the parking spot. She was shuffling beside him, putting the Aux cord in her phone, and seconds later a song started playing, a song he knew all too well.
“Don’t you worry there, my honey
We might not have any money
But we’ve got our love to pay the bills…”
It was the sickly sweet tune of You and I by Ingrid Michaelson, probably his least liked and by far prettiest songs of all on his playlist. He gripped the steering wheel hard, straining not give any sign of knowing the song. It was the one tune that had managed to give him such blissful, painful melancholy this last week, the urge to cry even. It was the one he had listened to the most, basking in the desperation it brought up every time.
How nice would life be if one could pay for anything with only love?
What were the odds that it was the one song playing on her playlist right now? What were the odds that she knew it at all? Had she any idea what the lyrics meant to him? How the swelling of the chorus and the building up to the last few lyrics made his heart ache with a longing, the urge to grab her hands and dance to it with her, revelling in the happy memories they had and would have shared together in the future?
His eyes flickered over to her, heart beating and pumping.
“Oh, let’s get rich and buy our parents homes in the South of France
Let’s get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance
Let’s get rich and build a house on a mountain, making everybody look like ants
You and I
You and I…”
Amy’s eyes were fixated on the windshield, that much he could see from his short look over. They may have even blinked repeatedly, as if it hold back tears.
What was she thinking?
Jake was usually so good at knowing what was going on in her mind, just from a sly smile and the way her eyes twinkled when she was focused, or mad, or thinking about something funny. All his senses had left him, however. She was the puzzle piece he couldn’t figure out anymore, and that knowledge burned in his gut like a black hole.
The next song started playing, and Jake recognized the beginning tunes immediately. His brain set out. This couldn’t be.
“When the moon fell in love with the sun
All was golden in the sky
All was golden when the day met the night…”
When the Day met the Night by Panic! AT The Disco. Another one of the songs on his obliviously created playlist.
What were the odds that these two songs were on autoplay on her phone? Was there any chance she had seen the playlist?
Realization broke in over him like a cold shower, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe, or think, his heart may have even sat out. If he hadn’t been driving automatically, he would have probably crashed the car as well.
She had seen the playlist weeks ago, in the kitchen, when she put on Get It Up. She saw it. She knew about it.
Had she been listening to it, too? Obviously, she had. What was that supposed to mean? Why was this important to her? What message could the songs have delivered to her?
Did she know about his feelings for her? Or was this just a huge coincidence after all?
“You can let me out here”, Amy mumbled out of the blue, and Jake just now noticed that they were in her street.
“Are you sure?”, he croaked. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’d had a tiny shimmer of hope that she would stay in the car for a few minutes and just talk to him, whatever that meant now. Did she really need to get away from him that quickly? Was his presence so unbearable?
She nodded wordlessly, and Jake turned into a vacant parking spot. The second the car was slow enough to leave it securely, Amy jumped out and threw the door behind her closed with a loud bang that made Jake cringe.
The music was gone with Amy, and Jake couldn’t bear it. He had to talk to her, he needed her to look at him and tell him what’s wrong, no matter how heart-breaking the truth might be – it couldn’t be worse than what was currently happening.
“Amy, wait!”, he yelled as he opened the door and he practically leapt out, swinging it closed as he paced after her. She was fast and determined, already halfway down the street with her head down and hands buried deep in her jacket.
She kept walking and gave him no other choice than to run.
Jake was fast, faster than Amy, and they both knew it.
“Amy please, let’s just talk”, he said when he was only a few steps behind her, and she finally stopped.
“What’s there to talk about?”, she snapped at once, whirling around on the spot. Jake stumbled, taken aback from her sudden outburst.
“I-, I mean, let’s just talk this out. Please.”
He was begging and he hated it. He would never beg for anything, but Amy was the exception to the rule.
“Again, what’s there to talk about?”, she countered, still an edge in her voice. Her eyes were glistening with a fire that Jake had never seen directed at him before.
“Us. I mean, what happened? Why won’t you talk to me?”
She threw her hands in the air and groaned. A bit of alcohol always brought out her dramatic side.
“Why does it bother you?! You’ve found comp-any better than me, anyway!”
If it wasn’t for the crack in her voice, Jake would have been convinced that she was about to rip out his hair, but the little hesitation when she said company – there was space for digging.
“Company? The hell do you mean?”
“That girl! She was on your arm the whole evening, she was basically climbing your fucking lap and riding you already!”
What in the lord was she talking about?
“What?”
“Don’t be stupid with me Jake! When’s the wedding invitation? The baby shower? House-warming party?!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?!”, he yelled, so utterly confused, his head hot, everything was warm with anger at her senseless words. She was drunk and babbling, spiralling, and he had no idea what to do. He didn’t even know what girl there had been supposed to be.
“At the fucking bar! She was on your arm the whole time!”, Amy shouted, chest heaving, and her hands clenched in fists.
Jake realized now who she was talking about. That girl, Jessie as he had finally found out, had been beside him all evening. She was nice enough, but a bit too cheery and loud for his liking. Had she really been flirting with him?
“She was flirting with you, you fucking knucklehead! And you just let it happen, even though-“, Amy cut herself off and wailed loudly, face buried in her hands. It was like she had read his mind, and he was still struggling with hers.
“Amy, why do you care so much?”
Speaking had become difficult all of a sudden. His heart was going crazy, but not because he was angry at her stupid words anymore; it was the realization of what those words meant. Maybe it had all been for nothing. Maybe he had kept away from her this week merely because he was too stupid to realize it.
Amy was ignoring his answers, rubbing her face and emitting a loud, stretched out groan.
“Why do you care?”
He stepped closer and Amy’s face appeared again. He could see that her make-up was smudged around from all the rubbing, but it didn’t make a difference. No hangover or messed up paint in the world could make the glistening in her eyes and her bright smile less appealing to him.
She looked like she had gone through hell. Her eyebags were as big as plates, and her eyes were downtrodden, as if they hadn’t laughed in a while. Her whole posture resembled the one of someone already on the ground and kicked at to make it worse. He’d do anything to bring back a smile, but there was no time for jokes now.
“Why do you care?”, he demanded again, and she moaned, loudly, angrily, and the fire was back. She turned around and paced away. Jake didn’t lose a second.
“Why do you care?!”, he shouted, and finally, an answer.
“Because I’m jealous!”, she yelled and turned around again, stalking back towards him at once and he stumbled backwards in surprise.
“I’m jealous, you fucking twat! Are you blind?! I was jealous a week ago and I’m jealous now!”
She stood directly before him now and he could see a wet shimmer in her eyes. Something bloomed in his chest, warm and chilling at the same time. A glimmer of hope, no, more than that; the knowledge that something good might finally happen.
“Why are you jealous?”, he whispered. Amy closed her eyes and breathed once, twice, thrice, how they had practiced together so many times. She was so close; he could just reach up and wipe away strand of hair on her cheek. So close, he could count the few freckles on her nose. Close enough to-
“Why do you have a playlist named after me with love songs on it?”, Amy breathed, opening her eyes and staring right back, narrowed and determined, anger all but gone.
So he had been right. She’d found the playlist. Not realizing what the songs meant would have been unlike her. For some reason, he didn’t feel terrified at the thought of her knowing the songs as well as he did.
“Why do you think I have?”
He could barely hear his own voice anymore, but he knew she heard it.
“Why do you think I’m jealous?”, she replied without hesitation.
It was so quiet in the street, only the swooshing of an occasional blow of wind and the buzzing of the streetlight above them. No cars were driving past. No music from any of the other student flats. Only them and a few chosen questions.
For one, two, three seconds, they were just staring at each other, waiting for the other to answer the question. All her anger was gone and there was nothing but a serene, almost curious shimmer in her wide eyes.
Of course, neither relented, and Jake couldn’t help but study the features he knew so well. The way her hair could be shiny one day and frizzy and messy the next; how her brown eyes she hated for her mediocrity could change their hue with light and express laughter and determination, appreciative annoyance when he teased her and fiery anger at unjust people, anxiety and uncertainty when confronted with new people.
The way her nose would often crinkle up in disgust at his food, but she’d never complain, knowing fully well her own creations were even worse.
The way her lips could curl into the most blinding smile, the sort of delight he was always trying to make her express. How they would pout when she was convincing him to do something, or how downtrodden they were when she got a bad grade or had been having an awful week.
Jake was staring at her chewed up lips and it took all his self-control not to lunge forward and repeat what he’d done a week ago. Instead, his eyes wandered back to hers.
She was waiting, eyes wide and filled with anticipation.
Without hesitating for another second, he finally surged down and brushed his lips against hers.
This time was without a second wasted - she practically threw herself at him, arms around his neck and responding vigorously.
His disturbed nights hadn’t even covered half of the delight of kissing her. It was somehow even better than he remembered, how she felt pressed against him, a perfect fit; his entire body was on fire, prickling all over with eagerness and the final release of week-long tension.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her even closer, deepening their kiss as his tongue swept over her lower lip and Amy was shivering in his embrace, tightening her grip and responding vigorously as she opened her mouth willingly, and Jake was in pure bliss.
Her lips were soft and her tongue demanding, exactly like he'd had expected either way. There was no way she wasn't a good kisser; she was good at everything she did. And dear god, he hadn't estimated how good she would be at this too. There was nothing but the sweet smell of her hair, the alcohol on her lips and the stifled, breathless moan in the back of her throat when his hand ran up her back between her shoulder blades to grasp at the soft hair at the nape of her neck, desperately holding on to anything he could find, saving him from this free fall she was inducing.
The need for air was becoming desperate, and Jake had to pull away to gasp for it. She was breathing heavily, more so than he was, her form still trembling against him. Her lips looked deliciously red and swollen, and Jake let his eyes wander up to her eyes again.
They locked eyes for a mere second, and they broke into shaky giggles.
“I can’t believe what a moron you were”, Jake breathed in between laughter. Immediately, she pulled on a bit of his hair on his neck.
“You were even worse”, she responded and leaned in to bury her face in his chest, hiding her laughter as her body was still shuddering like a leaf. They stayed like that for just a moment, and Jake indulged in holding her against him entirely. He was shivering too, but not from the cold; it was something in between exhilaration and something different, entirely indescribable, a kind of jittery excitement cursing through his veins like a powerful current of electricity, realization and pure, unfiltered relief.
“Are you cold? I have a jacket in the car”, Jake mumbled into her hair. She appeared from her secret spot in his t-shirt.
“I’m not shivering from the cold”, she whispered and leaned up to kiss him once more, which Jake responded to with full-bodied vigour.
“Shh! Be quiet!”
There was a sluggish giggle and Rosa stumbled against her, almost letting the beer bottle drop out of her loosened grip. Kylie sighed and wished she could just be in bed right now, where the world wasn’t spinning as much and she didn’t have to walk.
“Ames sleep, don’t-wae-he-ah”, Kylie slurred, and Rosa leaned against the wall next to the front door, pushing her messy hair away from her face, a dozed grin still plastered onto her lips.
“Wha?”
Kylie took a deep breath and focused on the words in her mind, how they were supposed to sound as she tried pushing in the key once more, now squatting deep down, finally figuring out that it had been turned upside down all along.
“Don’t wake her up”, she struggled to say the words clearly.
The lock finally clicked, and the door swung open with a squeak that made Kylie cringe, to reveal a mostly black hallway, only partially illuminated by time displays in the kitchen and a table lamp from the living room.
“I hope she’s fine”, Kylie mumbled as she entered her flat and pulled Rosa with her, who was in a far too good mood to let herself be distracted.
“Okay”, she started with the excited constraint of a thirteen-year-old about to indulge in just how amazing her current crush was, “can you believe that Gina kissed me? I mean, she was drunk, but she’s been looking at me so weird for literal weeks and I just knew when she kept winking at me during her dance tonight- “
She was repeating the story she had been telling over and over again on the fifteen-minute walk back to her apartment. Kylie was glad for her love-stricken friend, but she really just wanted to get into bed right now, almost regretting having invited her along to sleep at hers. Rosa’s babbling turned into white noise as Kylie made her slow way through the dark hallway back to her room.
When they stumbled through the door, after a lot more “Shh!” and “Shut up!”, Kylie wasted no time falling onto the bed and stretching herself out like a cat.
Thinking of it, she hadn’t seen Dobby at all. He usually greeted her first thing whenever she came home, especially at night.
“Hey Kylie, can I borrow a charger?”, Rosa breathed heavily as she was desperately pulling off her trouser legs, hopping on one leg as she did. Kylie nodded; eyes closed against the brutal light above her.
“There’s second one in living room, next to couch. Take it.”
Words were still incredibly hard to pronounce, and Kylie still felt like she was talking gibberish. It all melted together into just one huge word salad and she had truly no idea how Rosa could understand any of what she was saying – but she obviously did, as her steps left the room immediately.
It took about ten seconds until they returned, and Kylie blinked. Rosa stood in the door, eyes wide open and shivering with an impending announcement.
“Kylie. Come with me.”
“Whaaaaaat?”, she moaned. The bed felt far too nice to leave right now.
“Trust me. Come.”
Kylie studied her friend up and down. She suddenly seemed a lot more sober, and not even her kiss with Gina had made her so excited. What the hell could possibly be happening in her living room at three am that could render her friend that excited?
With a loud, protesting groan, she rolled off the bed and trudged after her friend, who was jumping ahead, clearly vibrating with excitement, curls bouncing like a child’s.
“Look.”
Rosa was whispering and pointed into the living room. Kylie gave her another look through narrowed eyes, before she peeked around the corner to see what was so incredibly important.
The warm light from the little, traditional lamp shade next to the couch offered her a picture she truly wouldn’t have expected.
Jake was on the couch with his back against the arm rest, and tucked tightly against his chest was Amy, face nearly entirely hidden in the fabric of his T-shirt. His arms were wound around her middle, holding her close, and his head was leaning against the couch cushion, halfway buried in her hair.
A blanket was covering most of their legs and at the very end, where one of Jake’s legs was sticking out, Dobby was sleeping comfortably, cuddled against his body warmth.
Kylie stared at the disturbingly sweet scene in front of her, unable to grasp just how in the hell they went from ignoring each other entirely mere hours ago to this now.
“Isn’t that adorable?”, Rosa whispered after a few seconds, her voice squeaky. Kylie breathed deeply, so relieved. All of a sudden, it felt like a boulder was taken off her shoulder, and she couldn’t believe how much she had worried about her dear friend earlier.
“So happy they’re not fighting anymore”, she mumbled and leaned against the door frame for support as she rubbed her eyes almost aggressively. She felt ten years older after this exhausting week and even more so with this resolution in front of her, sent to her from God personally. Rosa emitted a girlish giggle.
“I can’t believe they made up. I’m so glad.”
Kylie appeared from behind her hands and her vision was blurry. All she could see were sleeping forms on the couch and the surrealness, the peace it brought her. The two friends had been majorly fucking up their friendship for the past week, and everyone in their group had been worried that may just not make up in the end.
“Yeah, me too.”
“They do fit together well, though. Don’t you think?”, Rosa was returning to her drunk babbling as she turned to walk back to Kylie’s room, charger entirely forgotten.
“They really do. Both just blind idiots.”
Kylie followed her, not realizing that her whispers were futile. The pair on the couch had woken up from the incessant creaking of the front door as soon as it had begun moving.
“Blind idiots, huh?”, Jake mumbled, and he felt Amy’s form shake against him as she giggled into his chest, sending waves of blooming, pulsating warmth through his body, head to toe. Hours of talking had made them tired enough to fall asleep a considerable while ago, but no one could possibly sleep through Rosa’s never-ending babbling when she was just the right degree of drunk, between a bit more than tipsy and enough to make her get sick.
“We were, though”, Amy muttered back, and for a few seconds his arms around her tightened. Her every nerve and cell melted into his embrace even more, if that was possible.
She had truly never felt more at home than on this worn out couch with Jake, a blanket and an asshole cat at her feet.
There wasn’t a single thing she would change about it.
Amy: *remembers the time Jake was lying on the couch upside down & drinking milk through a straw then waterboarded himself with the milk & coughed for 10 seconds then tried again*
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amy's a mess cause she’s come to terms with liking jake, basically. very very short and straightforward.
special thanks to @sadtiagos and @phxntom-pain for proofreading. im v neurotic and they were v helpful.
She had a thing for Jake Peralta.
After years of trying to shape the narrative in a way that left her unbothered by his boyish charm and dumb jokes, she finally admitted it to herself. She wasn’t all that surprised once she did— she’d always wondered why she never truly disliked him, even when all he did was annoy her. She’d hypothesised it was snarky appreciation, finally having a rival that forced her to push herself further. Ever since they met, she could tell how much wittier and smarter, swifter and stronger she’d gotten. Resenting him was what got her to work harder, thus she did so a little less. The conflicting nature of their relationship was that, she convinced herself. That she couldn’t ever stop thinking about this topic was jealousy, ambition. Drive…
He, of course, wrapped his hands around this concept and tore it to pieces as soon as he up and went to some stupid undercover operation for the stupid FBI, leaving her stupid feelings a mess.
Crushing on him wasn’t fun. She’d always thought he was messy and frustrating, but never imagined it could be so bad on so many different levels. It was pervasive where it used to be entertaining, intoxicating where she used to be able to laugh it off. She longed for the days they were partners-turned-friends, when they could talk for hours without double checking everything she thought to say. Being friends with him, that was fun. Running around, trying to one up him, making fun of his finances, envying his relationship with Holt, seeing the truth of his teases. True, it'd shifted once Teddy came into the picture. She began to sense some strange strain that hadn’t been there before, catching longing glances, waiting for a joke that got stuck in his throat. She would stay up sometimes, thinking about what all that meant, going over all the information she had on Jake before Teddy and Jake after Teddy, contrasting different reactions. She’d fall asleep after having found similarities that restored a comforting world view and ease with the status quo. She probably knew that wasn’t sustainable but, at least back then, she preferred to play pretend.
She was glad it was finally out of the way, though. Her true love was figuring things out, deciphering them. She processed by going through mental and physical clutter, and Jake was the mountain of clothes that were neither clean nor dirty that you tossed onto a chair. She knew she had to get to it eventually, but insisted on working around him. Items accumulated and sooner or later fell all over the place, prompted by some tiny little throwaway line he would almost whisper. He restored the pile, now hungrier and angrier, before she noticed it was down by retrieving back to a Jake she knew how to categorize, back in the ever-present back burner.
Then, out of the blue, he said ‘To hell with it!’ and catapulted it to first page. Suddenly she understood what it was that she felt when Jake, poofy haired after working a long night, chuckled to himself and looked up at her to show her some funny picture he found during one of the five second breaks he took every ten minutes or so. Suddenly it was crystal clear why she was both annoyed and taken by him, both wanted him to stop and keep going. Suddenly, she knew that losing all patience and interest in Teddy's quirks meant she was a jerk.
It was fine, though. She was the boss of sensible break-ups. She knew it had to happen between eight months and a year since they got together, neither turning their relationship into a failure nor giving him hopes for the future. She knew to do it in the least romantic place possible to make it clear there was no coming back. She knew to quit putting off outlining a speech, even if she dreaded the task of unfolding a cordial narrative that touched on his pilsner obsession lightly but didn't focus on it; even if the reason she couldn’t concentrate on non-boring words that could be used when describing Teddy was she couldn’t ever stop thinking of Sophia.
Sophia! Amy was over the phase of her life where she hated on girls that were in relationships with the guys she crushed on. She’d learned to be a healthier, better functioning human. A person that didn't idealize her crushes, who knew that men weren't always perfect and women bitches. She stopped calling them manipulating or kniving and started seeing them for what they were: pretty awesome. Sophia was pretty awesome. Amy could respect the hell out of an ambitious self made woman of color that worked harder than anyone else. Moreover, Sophia was silly, intelligent and fun. She was everything Jake deserved. So they were friendly, so she flirted a lot less with Jake, so she convinced herself she was content with Teddy for longer. And sure, it still stung whenever she heard of her or saw them together, but at that point she was a pro at concealing her feelings. Jake didn’t have a clue and they were all the better for it.
She kept a calm and collected, happy with the road I’m treading image by imitating what she knew Regular Amy would do, albeit feeling increasingly like Miserable, Frantic Amy. Her usual efforts at keeping that version hidden away— pulling at her anxieties and unloading them with logic— didn’t work anymore. One day, her internal cabinets perfectly organized, then boom! Old tucked away files, with sections she never knew were there highlighted, found open all over the floor. Their weight was what changed the way she stood, the way she acted. And much to her dismay, Teddy figured out almost perfectly what had her overwhelmed. No matter the force she used to push them down, they resurfaced more and more furiously. Accepting the hard fought truth and its consequences was inevitable. She had a thing for Jake Peralta.
Now, Amy Santiago sat at her desk, dreading every minute that got her closer to the end of her shift, closer to dinner with her soon-to-be ex-boyfriend and farther from the precinct. She checked to see whether her mother replied to the email she’d sent the night before. She chipped at her torn up nails, thinking about getting a manicure sometime that week. She inspected some of her open cases, hoping to find that missing piece that would hand the solve to her, quickly got frustrated when that didn’t pan out and looked over her shoulder for the possibility that Captain Holt was about to ask her to his office and give her some much needed guidance.
If we're being honest, though, she wasn’t doing any of that. She was waiting for Jacob Peralta to get back and give her a little something more to examine as a way to understand herself better, to think about before giving away to sleep. Restless, she looked at her computer screen, collected thoughts on why her relationship wouldn’t work and stared at an empty doc she couldn’t start because it would read ‘Jake, it’s his fault. Also, the pilsners’. She tapped her pen, undid her ponytail, moved on a whisper at a time and maybe, a little bit, once in a while, glanced at the elevator.