~Jem's POV~

After a long while I calmed down, though still teary eyed and sniffily. I tried to go about business, bringing my books to my empty library to shelve. Then I returned. This had been a hard blow. I would cry until I couldn't, but as soon as enough tears generated it would return.

I did my homework, then tried to read. I couldn't focus so I showered and got ready for bed. I had to make my bed, it being new and all, and then I went to make Jude's, just in case he returned. Then I tried to read again. I didn't get far before I was forced to put it down. I laid on my bed, cheek turned into the mattress, and stared off for a good while. Eventually, I got up, walking softly through the empty house to find my music box.

Still sniffling, I went to lay on the stupid glowing couch, missing him. I just stared at the box and turned the handle, playing it over and over. It brought me some peace, feeling a bit of Jude's love still.

Then he returned, first slamming into the door. It took him a full minute to open the door before he spilled in, completely sloshed. I slowed the crank, watching him. "Jemmie," he said, seeing me. He had fallen to his knees, hand still on the doorknob, which he pulled to help him back to his feet. Flinging the door closed behind him, he stumbled to me. I was too dejected to move, and I didn't know what to do anyway.

When he reached me he fell again, I think purposefully. "I'm sorry," he slurred, reaching out and resting his head on my stomach. I felt the tears coming back. "I haven't had much recently and I was having some withdrawals. But I didn't mean it, Jemmie. I just- I ju- ah. I just miss the way things used to be. I like doing this, but I also like being with you. And it's the only thing I know how to do. I know that it's not you now. It never was, was it? When me, when we, when we and you were little, you were always like this. You tried to hide it, but it was there. It just seemed so lonely to me. I'm afraid you're not having fun, that you're not happy."

"I am happier like this, Jude," I told him quietly.

"Ok, well now I know."

"Are you still on tour all year?" I asked, staring at the music box.

"Yeah... why?"

"I want to come with you on my spring break-" I continued softly.

"Oh Jemmie, you don' have to." His speech was still slurred.

"No, I want to." It was still quiet, and I don't know how convincing.

"Ok," he rejoiced, smiling. "It's a date! Hey, speaking of which, if you're cool with it, there's this girl waiting-"

"No," I stopped.

"Ok, ok," he said, closing his eyes.

"And Jemmie, I'm sorry I said I wished your friend got sick and was mean," he finalized. But this only reminded me of it.

"Be careful what you wish for," I could only breathe, starting to fight back tears.

He noticed and opened his eyes to investigate just as I began to burst. Then, even in his drunken state, he knew. "Oh Jemmie, Jemmie, I'm so sorry." He got up, sliding next to me on the couch and taking hold of me. I sobbed into his chest. "Jemmie, stop. Shhhh," he tried to comfort.

And I did my best to fight it, I didn't want to cry anymore. Slowly, I calmed. "Jemmie, I'm really sorry... but, I think I'm gonna hurl."

I pulled back. That was enough of a distraction. "Can you make it to the bathroom?" I asked zealously.

"Well, I don't want to puke on the pretty couch," he said, voicing his concern.

"I wouldn't be broken-hearted, but here we go," I said, catching hold of him and helping him down the hall.

I sat next to him, keeping him company on the bathroom floor. "Yup, get it all out," I coached, rubbing his back. This was unfortunately all too familiar.

He spit in between. "Jemmie, I love you," he shared just before the next round.

I sighed. "I love you, too." As I supervised, I realized he would be severely dehydrated. "Stay here, I'll be right back," I excused myself. It was a quick trip to the kitchen and I went swiftly back to him. "Here you go," I offered, extending the glass.

He glanced at it. "What is it?" he asked.

"Vodka," I answered, knowing he'd be more likely to drink it.

He took it from me, and I sat back down as he brought it to his lips. "This isn't vodka," he laughed after one sip. "Jemmie, you're silly," he added, bopping a finger on my nose.

"It's the finest there is, that's why it's so smooth," I countered.

He shook his head, still laughing a little. "You're so full of shit," he said as he brought it back to his lips, still knowing to drink it. Then he held it back out as he felt it brewing again. I took it, more used to this than I should have been. I casually turned the glass so I could drink from the clean side, the water very appealing after all the tears I lost tonight.

Jude found another break, but waited still, too hammered to move anyway. "I am sorry, Jemmie. I'm sorry you can't just have normal girl stuff to worry about like guys and shoes."

I chuckled to myself a little listlessly. "Funny you should mention that," I uttered, not planning to expand on it.

He raised his head a bit. "You do not have a boy problem," he caught on, unable to believe it.

"I don't know," I sighed, sitting back. "I don't know if it counts as a boy problem at this point. I don't even know if he likes me."

"Whoa whoa whoa whoa," Jude slowed, holding a hand out to me. "There's no way you like a boy and he doesn't like you."

"There might be," I conceded, looking off as I thought. I suppose I might as well talk to my brother about it, drunk as he was. I didn't know what to make of it, and there was no way he'd remember this conversation in the morning.

"He's really busy, but somehow we keep finding ways to see each other. Like I'll go read our English text to him while he works so he doesn't have to read it later. But couldn't he just listen to it on tape? Especially if he doesn't like people as much as he lets on-"

Jude chuckled to himself. "He keeps finding ways to get you alone. Gee, I wonder what that could be about," he insinuated.

As usual, I didn't get it. "What's that mean?"

Jude spit again. "Sorry babe," he expanded, looking at me, "But boys only want one thing."

"... To be read to?" I asked.

Jude laughed again, it coming through in his speech. "You can be so fucking adorable. No, but if he's not making any moves on you, then he's thinking about it and calls you there so he can look at you," Jude quipped.

"No, I never-" I argued.

"See him do it, yeah. Because you're in word world."

I considered this, but I wasn't convinced. I needed more. "Then one night I kissed him and I spent the night, but nothing happened, and nothing has happened since."

"You spent the night in his bed?" Jude clarified. I nodded. "And he was there too?" He continued, not seeming to believe it.

"Yeah..."

"So you're into a gay guy," he answered simply, turning back to prepare for a potential uprising.

"No," I scoffed. "That doesn't mean he's gay."

"Well, I certainly don't get him," Jude determined.

"He stands up for me. He looks out for me, but he seems to hate everyone. I don't know."

"Jemmie, guys don't keep girls around needlessly like that unless they're into them," he offered.

"... Really?"

"Really," he answered. "But still, don't do anything stupid."

"Good morning, Jude," I greeted when he finally emerged from his room the next morning. "How are you feeling?"

"Like complete shit," he yawned. "But I feel like I should feel worse. I had a lot last night."

"Well, you got a lot out last night and I had you drink some water," I reminded.

"Oh, I don't remember that part," he disclosed, sitting down. I was eating my breakfast in the kitchen, leaning on the island. Jude now sat on the counter across the room.

"What do you remember?" I tested.

He smirked, rubbing his eyes. "I remember saying sorry and I remember you telling me that you would come on tour with me, but nothing after that." That's probably for the better. "I think I'll probably take off at the end of the day, then, since you're coming to visit me so soon. Unless you want me to visit school with you again tomorrow."

"No, we'll spend today together. We'll have lunch a whip up a tiny bit of mischief, how does that sound?"

He smirked. "Sounds perfect."

Next Chapter: Substitute

"Hey Jude," she answered. She had assumed, considering he must have been the only one to call her. Good, I didn't want anyone else to have a reason to speak to her.

"It's Seto," I corrected. Mokuba had been studying my screen, but his head shot in my direction when I used my given name.