Why Don't We One Shots

Drunk - Jachary

ZACH'S POV

"Where are you going?" Jonah asks me.

"Sam's," I say, referring to the bar downtown. Yeah, I'm only 19, but Sam doesn't care. He takes every penny he can get, and, as long as he's not caught selling to underage drinkers, he doesn't care who it is that's buying.

"I really wish you wouldn't," Jonah sighs.

"Are you really going to try to stop me?" I ask. "Because we all know how well that went last time."

The last time Jonah had tried to stop me from going to Sam's was about a year ago. He locked me inside my room, and pushed our grand piano against my door so I couldn't get out. Well the wheels on that goddamn piano got stuck, and he and the boys couldn't move it to get me out. I was stuck in that room for six freaking hours, and they basically had to tear the piano in half for me to escape. Since then, whenever I said I was going to Sam's, Jonah would throw me a disapproving glare and go back to doing whatever it was that he was doing. He never tried to stop me again. Just like now.

"No..." Jonah says. "I just wish you'd go back to being you. You haven't been the same since Jack took off."

Jack Avery, who used to be 1/5 of our band, Why Don't We, had left almost two years ago due to family emergencies back in Pennsylvania. He never came back after that, and honestly, I was still not over it. Over him.

"Whatever," I say, taking care to let the front door slam behind me. I hop in my car and drive to Sam's.

"Hey, Zachary!" Sam calls from behind the counter. "What can I get you?"

"Just the usual, Sam," I say, smiling. Then, over heads of dancing, half-drunk people, I see a familiar head of curls. "Jack?"

"Zach?" he says. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, but I knew it wasn't enough to get him drunk. Buzzed, sure. Drunk? Jack? Not in a million years. "How the hell are you?"

"Oh, just fine," I say, with a little more edge than I meant. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting," Jack smiles. "It was supposed to be a surprise for tomorrow for you guys but-" he chuckles a little - "you found me."

No reaction. "Oh," I say. Not really sure what else to talk about, I say, "How was Pennsylvania life?"

"Not great," Jack says, and I immediately regret bringing it up. "I didn't want to tell you guys, but my mom died of pancreatic cancer last month."

"What?" I say as Sam sets my drink down in front of me. "No way..."

"Yeah..." Jack says, sipping his drink. "Tonight, I'm drinking to her memory.

"I'll raise one to that," I say, tipping my glass forward and grimacing at the bitter taste.

"So..." I say. "How come you didn't want us to know about your mom?"

"I don't know. You guys are like my family too, in a way. Telling you would've made it too real. It's stupid," Jack says, shaking his head.

"Yeah well, you don't leave family behind," I whisper, cursing myself when Jack overhears.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Zach, I heard you. What the hell?"

"It's true," I say, getting angrier by the second. "You don't leave family, Jack! You just don't!"

"Yeah, well my mom shouldn't have left her family either," Jack fires back. "But guess what? Life fucking sucks sometimes. People die, friends change, and nothing stays the same." He swigs down the rest of his beer and motions for another round. "What the hell happened to you, Zach? You used to be such a happy person, and now you're whatever this is." He motions to me: my posture (slouched), my expression (unreadable), and my attitude (more bitchy as time goes on).

"Well you said it yourself," I say dryly. "Friends change."

Now, remember how I said Jack had never been drunk, and he never will be? Hell was I wrong.

Within minutes after our heated argument, his mood changes as he grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor with him. And, knowing full-well that I'd never danced like this with him before, I knew in the back of my mind in that moment that we were both a little - or a lot - drunk. And in that moment, I didn't give a shit.

I spun around and around him in circles, laughing the whole time. Letting the neon lights lead me, I spun right back around to him. He caught me around my waist and didn't let go, planting one square on my lips. I pull away from the kiss looking in his eyes, the brightness dulling, the buzz worn off. "You're...you're not..."

"Drunk?" Jack laughs. "Nope."

"But I saw you sinking...I mean drinking..." I slur.

"Zach," he whispers, his breath fanning my neck as he speaks next to my ear. "Since when have the effects of alcohol lasted long on me? They just don't work."

"So..." I say slowly, my vision blurry. "The riss was keal?"

Though I spoke in a language that definitely wasn't English, Jack knew exactly what I was trying to say. "Yes, the kiss was real. We need to go home though. You need to go to sleep, in a place where you'll know exactly where you are when you wake up. "

"Only if you come with me," I say, pouting like a little kid. "You aren't allowed to leave me again."

"Never. Come on, Zach, it's getting late. We need to go."

I stay planted in my spot, stubborn as always. "No."

"Zach," Jack says, "do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then please, come with me. Let me take you home. Please?"

"Fine." I let him lead me out of the bar and let him drive the two of us back to the house. He helps me up the stairs and into bed. As he goes to leave, I grab his arm. "No. Stay here with me."

"Zach, I can't just-"

"You said you wouldn't leave me again, remember?" I pout, pulling him into the bed with me. "So stay."

"You're lucky you're drunk and I need to watch over you," Jack chuckles as he cuddles next to me.

"I'm just lucky I have you," I say, and fall fast asleep in his arms.

~