What Friends Aren't For
Music played so loudly that the vibrations disturbed the surface of the water in the glass Bruce had put on the counter. He scowled heavily at the group of intoxicated guys that stumbled by to join some girls sitting around in the living room. He scoured the crowd for Matt’s messy brown hair. “I’m going to kill that jerk,” he grumbled, chugging his water and weaving his way through drunken strangers in search of the two familiar faces that he’d arrived with.
In what must have been a den, Bruce found his two friends. Matt was leaning coolly against the wall and chatting up some girl, but Tim Rinaldi was sprawled across a couch, passed out. There was a tipped over cup on the floor next to him that had spilled some rank cocktail into the carpet. Bruce couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry for the homeowner in the present situation, though. If he was going to throw a party for a bunch of underage high school kids, he deserved any property damage that might occur as a consequence. He approached Matt and made a coughing sound, staring down the girl. He was a very tall guy, and despite being rather slim and lanky, he looked quite intimidating. It took a moment for the girl to even notice him, and when she did she looked back at him in confusion. He intensified his glare and she seemed to get the picture, picking up her cup and hurrying out of the room in a huff.
Watching the girl storm out of the room, Matt glared up at Bruce. The sandy-haired boy was a head taller than him but Matt wasn’t sensible enough to realize his younger friend could easily kick his ass. “I was in the middle of something there, jackass!”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Bruce demanded. “We’re going to be in deep shit!”
Matt shook his head and reached up to pat Bruce on the shoulder, getting over his annoyance in a blink. “You need a drink, man.” He picked up a nearly full cup that was presumably his and offered it up. Bruce took it and poured in into a plant sitting on an end table.
“Just going over to a friend’s to relax for a while and take our mind off of midterms?” Bruce spoke the words in a scoffing tone. Matt had lied to him about what they were going there for.
“You’re the only one who’s not relaxing, buddy. And now that plant is having a better time than you.”
“Rinaldi is supposed to be our ride back. Does he look up to it to you?” Both boys looked over at Tim, who was drooling on the upholstery. “If this party gets busted we’re all in deep shit, and there’s no way we’re going to get back in time for curfew.” The three of them were students at the nearby boarding school, and as seniors they had the privilege of staying out until midnight on Saturdays. There were two major reasons kids were sent to the school, and Matt definitely hadn’t been shipped away from home to maximize his educational potential.
Matt had a wide smile on his face and shook his head. “It’ll be fine. You need to calm down. I can take Timmy’s keys and drive us back, no problem.”
Bruce looked skeptical. “How much have you been drinking?”
“Hardly at all,” Matt waved off the concern. “Barely even a sip!” When Bruce continued to look disbelieving, the shorter boy shrugged and continued. “I mean, if you want to drive back, then okay, but if you get us pulled over, then we’re in trouble.”
This was an option Bruce hadn’t even considered. He still didn’t have a driver’s license, and he wasn’t about to go do something that stupid, especially if he got caught arriving at the school. They knew he wasn’t allowed to drive and that would mean they would be even more screwed. “No, I’m not driving. You swear you’re fine?” He closed in on Matt, who had to step back towards the wall.
Putting up his hands protectively, Matt nodded. “Barely a sip, I swear. Tim was going to town but I’m fine. It’ll be fine, we have plenty of time to get back. Tim might get his ass busted if he can’t get himself up the stairs, but…” He laughed after trailing off, clapping Bruce on the shoulder again. “That’s not our problem, is it?”
Backing off and turning to his friend on the couch, Bruce thought that his well-being was their problem. Friends were supposed to be there to protect each other and keep each other out of trouble. Ditching Tim and letting him get caught and punished for drinking would be a nasty thing to do. He would rather try to help him back to his dorm and risk getting in trouble being caught with him than treat a friend so poorly. Matt’s attitude towards his friends bothered Bruce a great deal, and tricking him into going to a party didn’t exactly garner him any favor. He was tired of putting up with such things, but considering he was relying on Matt to get back to the school, he didn’t think just then was the best time to bring it up. If he upset him then he was liable to get stranded at the miserable party having to find his own way home.
Kneeling beside the couch, careful to avoid the puddle of booze, Bruce looked down at Tim, unsure of what to do. He shook Tim gently by the arm in an attempt to rouse him. His friend showed no signs of coming to. Leaning down close, he spoke loudly in his ear. “Tim! You’ve gotta wake up! We have to go. Wake up, buddy.” He waited anxiously but Tim still didn’t respond. He really must have had too much to drink to pass out so hard.
Matt watched Bruce try to wake the boy on the couch but didn’t do anything to help. Rather, he dug into his passed out friend’s pocket to get his car keys. He jingled them and nodded towards the door. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
While Matt headed for the door, Bruce sighed and tried to lift Tim off the couch. It was a good thing that Tim was rather slight so he was able to get him into a sitting position easily. Stirring, Tim mumbled incoherently and opened his bleary eyes. “Hey, it’s time to go, Rinaldi,” Bruce told him, standing up and supporting Tim under his arms. His friend struggled to his feet, slouching and weighing down Bruce a bit. He helped him out of the house behind Matt.
When they reached Tim’s car, he seemed to have gained enough lucidity to know basically what was going on. He headed for the driver’s door, reaching for the handle and missing. He groped along the door until he found it, but the door was locked so he had no luck opening it. Even if he’d had the keys there was no way he would have been coordinated enough to put them in the keyhole. Bruce steered Tim to the back side door and waited for Matt to unlock it. “You’ve gotta ride back here, buddy. Matt’s driving. You got that?”
Tim looked into Bruce’s face, unable to get his gaze straight. After a delay he nodded. “Yeah, Matt! Great. Matt… that’s great.” Tim proceeded to lean on the car to support himself, sliding along the side and to the pavement. Once down there, he was overcome with nausea. Bruce made sure to stay a few steps back.
Matt sat down sideways in the driver’s seat and pushed open the back driver’s side door, leaning forward and watching the vomiting figure. “Good thing this is his car. No way in hell in my car like that. He’d get to find his own way back.”
That comment didn’t sit well with Bruce, and his annoyance with Matt began to bubble over. “Yeah, because it’s not like it was your idea to come here, or that you egged him on to drink. And probably encouraged him to drink even more after he’d had too much to drink anyway. Leaving him behind will be a really nice move.”
Returning the frown that Bruce wore, Matt shook his head. “Chill out, man. I was joking. Now get him in the car and let’s go already.” He swung his legs inside the vehicle and pulled the door shut hard.
Bruce bit his tongue and helped Tim climb into the back of the car. He was sprawled across all three seats and wasn’t going to stay sitting up, so Bruce buckled the seatbelts as best he could to keep his friend in place. Then he walked around to the passenger side and climbed into the front seat without a word to Matt, merely buckling his seatbelt and staring forward after closing his door.
Starting up the engine, Matt pulled away from the house with the booming music and headed in the direction of the school. Neither Matt nor Bruce spoke, and Tim seemed to be passed out again. He came to just enough to start vomiting into the foot space behind the passenger seat. “Ugh.” Matt wrinkled his nose and looked into the back seat with distaste. Bruce was distracted by his irritation with Matt for a moment but then looked out the windshield, his breath catching in his throat. Rather than heading along the road, the car was now pointed right towards a ditch. He closed his eyes and held his breath, fists clenching. When Matt realized they were going off the road, he turned the steering wheel sharply but it was too late and the car went careening into the deep ditch along the side of the road.
The airbags deployed upon impact, the front of the car crumpling and the windshield cracking. Bruce didn’t hear a sound from anyone for what seemed like several minutes. Opening his eyes, Bruce became aware of the fact that his leg was pinned and that he couldn’t move it. It was too dark to see, but the warmth pooling beneath his calf made him think that part of the vehicle had gone through it. He leaned back and took a deep breath, his head throbbing. He put his hand to his forehead and saw a dark sheen as he pulled it away. His head must have hit the windshield.
Bruce turned to look at Matt, who didn’t seem to be stuck himself. The impact had been lesser on the driver’s side. Bruce noticed his friend’s mouth was moving and blinked hard, shaking his head as his body quivered. He realized Matt was letting out a panicked stream of curses. Through his shock he hadn’t even heard him, but after Matt got through with swearing he looked over at Bruce through the dim light. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Oh my god… Shit! I’m sorry.”
“Don’t!” Bruce growled. He was sure Matt hadn’t been honest with him about how much he’d had to drink. It was just another irresponsible thing he’d done in a long string of them, but this time he’d gone too far. He wished that he’d realized sooner that Matt’s friendship wasn’t worth the trouble, but he was more forgiving than he should have been. But this couldn’t be forgiven. “What about Rinaldi?” There were no sounds of movement coming from behind him, and Bruce felt dizzy as he waited for Matt to report back.
“Tim!” Matt shouted, turning around and leaning into the back. “Tim! Are you okay?” It was too dark to see properly, but he couldn’t see Tim moving. He couldn’t be sure if he was badly hurt, maybe even killed, or simply passed out. He managed to get his hand in front of Tim’s face and held it there, shrieking with relief when he felt air on it. “He’s breathing! He’s breathing!”
A wave of chills swept over Bruce. Thank God. He gazed unsteadily through the broken windshield when he heard one of the car doors open. Matt was climbing out, looking up the bank of the ditch. “Can you see the road?” Bruce asked as his breathing started becoming labored.
Matt didn’t answer. He stood gazing up the side of the ditch for at least thirty seconds before his eyes flitted towards the car again. He pulled open the back door and leaned in to unbuckle Tim’s seatbelt. Bruce couldn’t understand what he was doing. “Can you see the road?” he asked again. “You’ve gotta go get help. I’m stuck.”
When Matt still didn’t say anything to him, but began to pull Tim out of the car, Bruce’s heart began to pound in his chest. His leg began to bleed even more, but he could have forgotten his leg was there as he watched Matt drag Tim’s limp figure across the grass and put him in the driver’s seat. He knew that his friend was capable of all manner of sins, but he had never expected anything like this out of him.
With hot tears flowing from his eyes and mingling with the blood on his face, Bruce looked at Matt pleadingly. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t go to jail,” Matt mumbled, seemingly more to himself than Bruce. He wouldn’t make eye contact with Bruce as he leaned in the car to buckle Tim into the driver’s seat.
Bruce reached over and grabbed onto Matt’s forearm. “I’m bleeding. Please!”
Yanking his arm out of Bruce’s weakened grip, Matt cringed at the bloody hand print that was left behind on his skin. The next moment, both the doors of the car had been slammed shut and the sound echoed in Bruce’s mind. His energy was draining, and he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open much longer.
