[I have been looking forward to writing this chapter, ever since I decided to continue this story. I love the Drake-Roman bromance, and I hope I've done it justice here.]
When Roman arrived at the restaurant where several Atrian teenagers had gathered for a party, Drake was well on his way to being drunk. He laughed heartily to see his friend, and wrapped a heavy arm across Roman's shoulders as he spoke.
"Ro! Roman, come on in! The party can really start now!" he joked. He half-led, half-leaned as the two friends moved to the center of the crowded room. Drake pushed a glass into Roman's hand and smiled.
"It's whiskey," he winked. "The waitresses have a secret stash from the restaurant's supplier." He grinned at Roman and for the first time in weeks, Drake seemed more relaxed. He was very free with his smiles – and yet, Roman noticed, he was completely oblivious to the bevy of cute girls who were hanging around him, eyeing him hungrily. Drake never left these parties alone, so something must be on his mind. Roman's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on. He felt the distance between them more acutely now than ever before, and it frustrated him.
As the party-goers spread out – and eventually, paired off into dark quiet corners – Roman and Drake found themselves sitting together in companionable silence on the front stoop of the restaurant. The music inside wafted over them as the two friends watched Atrians and guards wander along the boulevard in front of them. Even the guards seemed more relaxed on Friday nights, more chatty with the open-air vendors. If you could temporarily forget that curfew would be enforced in an hour, then you could almost believe this was nothing but a typical, peaceful evening. Almost.
"I got out, Ro," Drake suddenly confessed. He needed to tell someone, and Roman had always been that person for him. Drake looked sideways at his childhood friend.
"Out… of… the Trags?" Roman was almost afraid to believe it. "That's amazing, but… How? Why?"
"Teri was going to tell her mom about Taylor. Vega would kill Taylor, Roman. I can't let that happen," Drake whispered. His eyes were wet, threatening to spill over. Drinking always made him so emotional.
"Hey buddy, it's okay, she won't. Vega won't get to Taylor," Roman assured Drake as he patted him gingerly on the shoulder. Obviously there was more going on here than Roman knew.
"I know, because I fixed it," Drake smiled suddenly, eager to share his day with Roman. He gave a brief synopsis of his conversation with Vega, and then his brow wrinkled in confusion.
"Roman, what's wrong with me? Why can't I get her out of my head?" Drake complained.
"It's ruining my life! I think about her on the way to school, wondering what she's wearing. Who the Hell cares what she's wearing?! Apparently, I do now! I try to find excuses to walk past her locker. Even if I know she won't be there. I go to sleep at night, and she's in my head, in my dreams… Oh man, is she in my dreams. You probably don't want to know. There's this one, where she's wearing a really short dress, I mean, really short, and she bends -"
"Okay wow, I get it!" Roman interjected before "Drunk" Drake could say something to embarrass "Tomorrow" Drake. Roman laughed.
"I think you're falling for her, whether you like it or not," he confided. "And I guess… if she feels the same way about you… well, then how could that be wrong? I mean, sure, maybe she doesn't know how she feels right now," Roman continued, drifting slightly off-topic, "But if you think there's a chance that she could actually grow to care for you, then why shouldn't you be allowed to pursue that? Just because she only has one heart, and no markings, and probably is a terrible swimmer? No, that's ridiculo- " Roman stopped himself. Drake was staring at him in slack-jawed wonder.
"It's like you're inside my mind," Drake whispered, eyes slightly unfocused. "You are going to make such a good Iksen one day!" Drake threw his arms around Roman in a bear hug, and nearly flattened his friend. Roman knew what came next… next, Drake would cry. Every time he got drunk on human alcohol, he cried. Eventually the giant Atrian would pass out. In the past Roman and Teri had come up with some pretty ridiculous ways to drag a sleeping Drake home, but Roman would never be able to move Drake by himself. He needed to take care of this now, while Drake could still use his own legs.
"You know what? You and I need to take a walk, buddy," Roman offered.
"Yes. That is a good idea, my Iksen. A walk. And I know right where to go," Drake said with drunken conviction. He stood unsteadily, and Roman steadied him. No need to draw the guards' attention.
They headed down the boulevard toward Drake's pod but instead of turning left, Drake kept going.
"Hey, Drake, you're this way," Roman pointed with his thumb.
"Not going home," Drake mumbled. Walking upright was requiring a good deal of Drake's brain power right now, and speech was a luxury. "Going to Taylor," he explained and kept moving.
Roman laughed in disbelief. "Drake, we're in the Sector, we can't get out," he said as slowly and clearly as possible.
"Weeble's friend," Drake smiled and tried to wink. It was uncomfortable to watch, like seeing a car crash in slow motion.
"Drake, I think this is a really bad idea. Let's get some sleep – remember, there's that short dress waiting for you in your dreams, huh? Aren't you looking forward to that?"
"Not good enough anymore." Drake turned and kept going, but he held onto the wall for stability. Roman sighed, because he knew Drake was right. Dreams really weren't good enough anymore. And since he'd lose if he tried to fight Drake, drunk or not, it looked like he was stuck as chaperone.