Lost Stars (The Jewel Project #3)

12.1|| Shopping, Parties and Hangovers

Sam knew he'd said it before, but he was never ever drinking again. His head pounded and he'd thrown up three times right when he needed his wits the most. Because there was no way in hell he was letting Kyle go to jail.

"You have no legal grounds to hold him," he mumbled and winced as the words still seemed too loud.

"You know that's not true," the policeman said, returning to his paper.

"You didn't take his driver's license. He still has it and it's valid." Lie. The Police had taken Kyle's license, but the fake one. He still had the real one and it was the only thing saving him.

"He didn't stop when we told him to."

"He should get a fine for that." So said the law Sam had opened on his phone.

"He stole a car!"

This was the hard part, except it wasn't actually true. "He just borrowed it and the owner got it back and didn't press charges."

The policeman ignored him and turned another page.

"What do you want from me?" Ugh, too loud. Now he felt like throwing up again.

"Your brother could use a night in jail to cool that hot head of his," the man answered and surveyed Sam over his paper. "Your phone is pretty nice, too."

Seriously? Bribe? Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the phone across the desk. "Here, have it. Just let him out so we can go home."

Amazingly enough, it worked, so five minutes later, Sam and a very grumpy Kyle exited the police station and headed out to find some bus or taxi to take them back to campus.

"Lovely evening we're having," Sam said conversationally.

"Shut up, Sam."

"Really? I bust you out of jail and this is the thanks I get?"

Kyle turned on him and grabbed his shoulder. "I get you're hurting, but alcohol isn't the solution."

Sam shoved his hand off. "No, you don't get I'm hurting. Because you're not. You're in denial, all of you. More concerned with your personal stuff than what happened to Tom, than the mission." He winced once the last word was out.

Wind blew his hair out of his face, and for a second, he felt stone cold sober. He also felt like a complete ass.

"Are you done?" Kyle asked, unimpressed. "Thanks for making me feel like shit, by the way. Did it never cross your mind that different people have different coping mechanisms?" Sam opened his mouth to answer and apologize, but Kyle cut him off. "Do you think that I don't know how this looks? My brother is dead and all I seem interested in is getting it on."

Sam flinched. "That's not what I meant."

"Yes it is. And I don't blame you, but Kay..." Kyle bit his lower lip and looked away. "She's the only thing keeping me grounded right now, making things more bearable. And if I focus too much on her, it's hard not to..."

"You totally should."

"Huh?"

Sam shrugged. "I think you'd feel much better if you got it out of your system."

"I don't want to feel much better."

"What? Why?"

Kyle smiled bitterly. "Because it would feel unfair what with Tom and you being so miserable."

Sam scoffed. "That's stupid. Trust me, if I could screw someone to make myself feel better, I would. I got drunk, for crying out loud. I never got drunk in my life. Never would've considered it either if I didn't so desperately want to numb the pain for just one second."