Regional At Best

1. guns for hands-part one

"I know what you think the morning, when the sun shines on the ground."

The room slowly became brighter as the sun rose.

Josh squinted at the sunlight that peeked through the shutters, and his head pounded. Thin ribbons of light were lazily strung about the floor and furniture. Bright and golden, it glinted off of glass—a beer bottle, and the brightness shot into his eye. He squinted. He tried to roll out of bed only to realize he wasn't in his bed, or any bed for a matter of fact. He was in his white tee, in a stiff chair, surrounded by the rest of the baseball team, a few cheerleaders, some jocks from the football team, and greasers he didn't recognize, all mostly unconscious, or just beginning to stir in Brad's living room.

Head pounding, he got up, and left to the bathroom. He leaned over the sink and turned on the faucet with a squeak. Josh splashed water on his face. After finishing up, he looked at his reflection, only to take in a sharp breath. Purple, puffy skin surrounded his eye. He poked at it gently.

With a rush of realization, Josh remembered what happened last night. Not the details, but abbreviations of the events that took place.
A Party.
Drinking.
A fight.
A girl.
Running his hands through his curly hair, Josh thought about how he'd cover the black eye up from his mom. How he'd cover any of this up from his mom. He had sunglasses in his jacket, wherever it was.

Leaving the bathroom and re-entering the living room, he saw his black and red letterman jacket hanging from the ceiling fan like a dark ghost. He snatched it off, retrieving his sun glasses from the inside pocket. His baseball cap was on top of a house plant. Josh considered putting the glasses on the plant and leaving the hat on, but decided against it. He slipped the glasses on himself, and put his cap on backwards, as he always did.

In the mass of sleeping people, he saw Tyler, in the kitchen, quietly snoring on a table.

"Tyler." Josh pushed Tyler's shoulder. "Tyler, wake up."

He spoke, but his eyes didn't open. "Yeah?"

"Wake up, Tyler."

Tyler's eyes rolled open. "Why are you wearing sunglasses indoors? You're not a prep."

"C'mon. I'll drive you home. I just need your car, I'll bring it back."

Tyler drove his old man's car. He ran a hand over his face. "Where are we?"

"Brad's place."

"Still? Jeez." Tyler suddenly remembered the party too. Which didn't go much different for him than it did for Josh. Instead, no girls. Just fights.

Tyler raised his eyebrows, then winced. A gash split his brow. He sat up, his body sore.

Josh grimaced. "Yeah, you got in a fight—a few fights last night."

"Well I guess we have to get home and heal up fast," Tyler winced at the pain in his arms. His scowl then faded. "We've got business to do tonight."

Josh tilted his head. "What?"

Tyler's lips pulled into a smirk.

"We've got a baseball game."

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, it's a little slow right now but the story will start to pick up the pace soon. Please vote and comment, I love to hear feedback. Thanks!
-Brooke