Down the Rabbit Hole ; Andrew&Adam
Maybe getting smashed wasn’t Andrew’s brightest idea, but then again you could never trust him to come up with brilliant ideas when he’s high. He already wasn’t much of an idea person, and having smoke in his system just put icing on that bad-idea cake. It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time; the past week or so had taken a toll on him and all Andrew wanted to do was forget about it, even if just for a little bit. Despite him acting okay, the whole thing with Jayden and Lexi still bothered him. He didn’t want it to bother him, honestly he just wanted to forget about it and put it behind him, but it didn’t erase how upset it made him. Then the whole porno thing, which Andrew supposed couldn’t necessarily be taken as a bad thing, didn’t bother him so much as overwhelm him. Lexi always acted like she had no problem with being poor, and acted like she had no problem with Andrew trying to hold them together with low income, but was that what it was going to come to down the line? He didn’t want that for Lexi, or their relationship, or himself. The money he wasn’t spending on Lexi anymore was going into a savings account; because Andrew needed to start somewhere. Needless to say he was stressing out about how he was going to take care of them all over again.
The task he’d gotten with Adam was also stressing him out, but maybe the way to do it wasn’t to get his best friend drunk beyond rational thought, and it probably wasn’t fair. Adam was loyal to Ryan, and Andrew to Lexi, so this whole situation just threw him for a loop. He didn’t know how he was supposed to get Adam to hook up with him, and he didn’t know how he was going to explain himself to Lexi afterwards. He could’ve tell her before… he should’ve told her earlier, but he was thinking about it so much that he hadn’t contemplated the thought of telling her sooner. The TV in his and Adam’s room was playing some movie he didn’t care about anymore, and the two bottles of Jäger, that was perched on the nightstand between his and Adam’s bed, were reduced to half a bottle. At this point he wasn’t even being careful about the shots he was pouring himself, just sloshing the substance into the glass and throwing it back with haste. “Hey Adam, can I ask you a question?” he didn’t know what had made his brain think it was a good idea to start talking, but his tongue felt uncoordinated and like it was trying to perform gymnastics inside his mouth, and he almost didn’t want to open his mouth to speak again.