Hunting Sunsets

Thirty Six

All when you thought you hated Jake...

I hadn't been home in a week. I hadn't spoken to my best friend in eight days and my brother in nine. This is not how I expected Jake to react. In all honesty, I thought he would be pissed at me for a while but not to the level that he texted me to tell me when he was coming home so I would leave.

Maybe it was because Troy liked Smith and I better or maybe it was because he didn't think we were in the wrong, but he seemed to have taken our side of this fight. At practice Jake and Smith didn't speak; they played like professionals then went their separate ways. Siya and I hadn't even looked at each other since she called me an attention whore and a shitty best friend. Jess has disappeared from my life completely; I hadn't even seen her since she tried to sit with me at lunch. It was almost funny how fast our group had fallen apart into shattered fractions of broken loyalties and forbidden alliances.

It hurt to think how easily my brother had walked out on me. He was supposed to be in my side at all times and he had taken one look at his best friend and I together and decided we should go fuck ourselves. I know he was hurting, but so was I. He needs to understand that I am ready for a relationship and trust that not everyone is out to hurt me, especially not his best friend. But these things take time, right?

That's what I was hoping when I unlocked the door to our apartment for the first time in a week, but I was sorely mistaken. The pungent smell of alcohol hit my nose like a punch to the face as I opened the wooden door. Beside me, Troy wrinkled his nose as our eyes adjusted to the crooked couch cushions and the empty bottles on the coffee table. My lips parted, not in shock but in disbelief. I had convinced myself that because he was performing well at practice, Jake was also surviving on his own. Evidently, that wasn't the case.

I stepped into the apartment fully with Troy closing the door behind us. "Jake!" I called out into the empty apartment, stepping over an old pizza box on the floor. He could have been doing this just to piss me off, but I knew he wouldn't scare me like this, right?

My shout was met with complete silence, not even the sound of footsteps or a door closing in anger. Troy and I shared a glance before carefully heading to my room down the hall. My hand gripped the cool metal handle, twisting as I pushed the door open. If I thought the apartment was a mess, then my room was a ducking tornado. My jaw actually dropped as I took in the distraught nature of my surroundings. All of my dresser drawers had been taken out and tossed on the floor. My handed shad been taken out of my closet and pulled on my bed but that wasn't the worst of it.

In a fit or rage, Jake had dug through my entire room, plucking every piece of Smith and throwing it in a pile in the middle of my dark wood floor. It seemed like he had even taken the belongings from his room. Sweatshirts, kneepads, sex toys, my birth control, my lingerie, and even pictures of Smith in shattered frames. But the thing that killed me was the one strategically placed on top; a photograph of Noah, Jake, Smith, Troy and I after they won the volleyball championship two years ago. The message was clear; I warned you and you turned you back on me.

"Text Smit to come up. Jake isn't here." I needed to pack a suitcase for the next week at a minimum. The stuff I had in Troy's dorm and Smith's apartment wouldn't last me much longer. I wasn't even going to bother trying to clean my room because Jake would just tear it apart in an alcohol induced rage again. I wasn't going to play games with Jake, but I was going to show him I was here. My sneakers angrily left my room as I marched down the hall to his and threw it open.

The navy sheets of his bed were strewn about, a bottle of Advil spilling the translucent green capsules on the floor. A blue Gatorade was opened on the dark stained wood nightstand bedside an empty Powerade bottle. His volleyball bag was thrown on the middle of the floor with his backpack. There was a tell tale red bra in the middle of the floor that was too big to be mine or Jessica's, which was saying something. And if the forgotten underwear wasn't enough, the blue box of condoms hap hazardous kicked partially under the bed indicated exactly what Jake had been up to.