Chapter Text
“Another round for the table please!”
Barbara is surprisingly forthcoming about the drink orders tonight. Jacob isn’t sure whether he’s seen her this talkative at a bar before, but Ruby’s tends to bring out the hidden parts of people, he supposes. He remembers meeting Avi here. That was a really fun night…a good way to get over his lingering post-breakup feelings and have meaningless (hot) sex for the first time in weeks.
He scans their table, drinking in the sight in front of him. Gregory with his arm around Janine as she sneaks in a quick peck on his cheek. Melissa and Barbara throwing comments around haphazardly, not caring if any of them are heard by their targets. Mr. J was here, but now he’s leaning over the bar telling an enthralled stranger about his limited time experimenting as a government official. And Ava is…being herself, as always.
“C’mon, kid, catch up. You’ve been nursing that fruity shit for twenty minutes!” Melissa jabs, taking him away from his thoughts.
He’s a few rounds in at this point, and can tell he’s well on his way to tipsy town, but the comment makes the tips of his ears redden a bit. His tall daiquiris has only about an eighth left in it, and he stirs it a little with the super thin plastic straw he’s been chewing on.
“Yeah, man, we out here getting shitfaced. Get with the program!” Ava cackles out, clapping a hand to his shoulder and nearly knocking him out of his chair.
He forces himself to smile, then downs the rest of the drink, straw falling out and forgotten by his feet. This gets a cheer from everyone, and he slams the empty glass on the table just as another round of shots arrives. Everyone picks their share.
“To another fantastic field trip!” Barbara toasts, and they all take that as a cue to shoot.
Jacob can feel the second half of his shot get caught in the back of his throat, and he chokes a bit. Janine catches his eye as he buries a cough into his fist.
“You know you can slow down if you want, Jacob,” Her pretty brown eyes shine with her own intoxication, but are nonetheless sincere.
“Nah, Janine just called you a lightweight, man!” Ava is already signaling for more alcohol. “You gonna take that?”
He shakes his head and, as seriously as he can muster, responds, “I am not a lightweight, Ava. I just–”
“Just got a weak stomach? I remember the videos from PECSA last year, you’re not fooling anybody.”
At this, Melissa pipes up, “Yeah, aren’t you always looking to learn more about the culture of Philly?” She offers him a beer. “This is our culture, kid.”
He knows the nicknames and quips are coming from a place of endearment, but his stomach sours at the dig on his constitution. He swallows the acrid flavor down his throat and accepts the bottle from his roommate.
“Don’t underestimate me before 1:00 in the morning.” He twists the cap, and in a showmanship-like display, starts chugging like his life depends on it.
“Oh, okay, I see how it is! Jacob isn’t playing around tonight. I’m getting us another round, thanks for paying, y’all,” Ava’s waving over the waitress again.
Everyone rolls their eyes at that. Jacob feels his fingers pulsing with warmth. He leans over to Ava, making no effort to conceal the spark of mischief in his eyes. “You talk a lot, Coleman, but I’d bet good money I can outlast you.”
She raises her eyebrows playfully. “You’re on, white boy.”
–
Jacob returns to the waking world at around 11:00. Pain hammers away at his temples, and he can feel the telltale gurgling in his stomach reprimanding him for his choices last night. He forces his body out of bed with a groan, his muscles protesting as he pads to the bathroom in boxers and yesterday’s shirt.
He relieves himself before his stomach issues its usual demands after a night out drinking, and he ends up kneeling in front of the guest room toilet soon after. Now more awake, he feels his abdomen tighten and a dull pain emanating from below his navel, and pretty soon he’s vomiting everything he took in the night before into the bowl.
He catches his breath and leans his throbbing forehead on the wall. He barely remembers what happened last night, but at least he made it home in one piece, sort of. There’s a rapping on the door, and he opens his eyes to see Melissa leaning against the frame with her hair up in a messy bun, clad in sweatpants and a tank top.
“Hey, sleeping beauty. I was beginning to wonder if you’d choked to death on your own vomit.” She places a tall glass of something thick and green on the edge of the sink.
He covers his face with his hands, feeling red hot embarrassment creeping up the back of his neck. “Ugh, what happened?”
“‘What happened’ is you poked the bear. You gotta learn how to hold your alcohol if you’re gonna be challenging people to competitions.”
She takes out her phone and scrolls through a few very incriminating pictures, laughing at her favorites. Jacob feels his entire face heat up as she goes on, before handing him the glass. “This is my Nona’s famous hangover cure. Not as tasty as some of her other recipes, but damn if it doesn’t work. I woke up just as bad as you.”
He sniffs it cautiously. Odors of saffron and citrus permeate his nostrils. He almost chokes on it as he takes a tentative sip, the mixture coating the back of his throat, “Oh God, why is it carbonated?!”
Melissa just chuckles and shrugs at him with a look he takes as demeaning pity. “Maybe next time don’t cross your limits and you won’t need it.” She turns to go, not before throwing out a quick “take a shower!” before disappearing downstairs.
“Don’t cross my limits…” he mumbles to himself dejectedly. He’s becoming increasingly frustrated with his coworkers' infatuation with treating him like an irresponsible child.
Maybe that’s why you’re so hungover? The rational voice in his head chimes in thanklessly. He rolls his eyes. He doesn’t feel like being logical right now; he’s too caught up in the consequences of his own petulant behavior to be introspective.
Why can’t they treat me like an adult?
The dinging of his phone interrupts his train of thought, and he unlocks it to a string of texts from Caleb.
Caleb
Yo
Mel told me yall went out last night
Sounded pretty wild
U good?
He chews the corner of his thumb, contemplating how much information he should share. He knows Caleb still looks up to him; better to not bog him down with details of his poor choices. He manages to get a quick and vague “super hungover rn” out before his guts churn again and he has to resume the activity of emptying the newly ingested substance into the toilet.
–
Melissa has to place her readers on her forehead to keep them from fogging up as she leans over the bubbling sauce on the stove. Maybe a weaker woman would phone it in amidst the lingering exhaustion from last night, but not she. Melissa Schemmenti is tough as nails.
Stealing a glance from the living room, she recalls that not everyone shares her constitution. Jacob is curled up on her couch, clutching a small trash can to his side as he watches Housewives. She smiles as she remembers last night’s antics: at one point he started voguing on a table, only getting off when their server started berating him with some very choice words. Not too long after that, he was sitting passenger in her car, rambling about some thread on X he’d disagreed with about the Reconstruction Era. She’d had to help him up the stairs to his room and he was somehow still talking, albeit nearly indecipherably with all the alcohol slurring his speech.
She shakes her head fondly. That kid’s a real firecracker. A little stupid, but spunky.
She removes the pot from the burner and strains the homemade pasta into the sink. “Jacob, dinner’s ready!” she calls, and a moment or two passes with no response. She rolls her eyes as she crosses to the living room. “What, you want me to make your plate, too?”
She stops when she sees him dry heaving into his little trash can. Once he’s finished, he looks up with red-rimmed eyes and wipes his mouth with his sleeve.
“Sorry,” he rasps, “I’m not sure if I can keep anything down right now.”
“Nonsense. You need to eat something, it’ll help settle your stomach.”
He hesitantly rises to his feet, cradling his belly with one hand. “Alright, but don’t get upset if it comes right back up.”
The comment earns him a quick whipping from the dish rag resting on Melissa’s shoulder. “If you upchuck, my Nona’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”
Jacob serves himself and goes to sit at the kitchen table, but she shakes her head. “Nah, we’re eating on the couch. I haven’t seen the latest episode of our show, and you’re no good at catching me up.”
Our show. Not her show anymore, but theirs. Their house, their dinners together. When Melissa first met this scrappy kid, she never would have imagined that they’d become as close as they have, much less live together. But she feels so accustomed to his quirks, his little annoying habits and rants, that if she were to one day be without them she doesn’t know what she’d do. It’s all become so natural: this little world they’ve built together. The extra money from his rent is nice, sure, but the companionship she’s found in Jacob has no measurable price to it.
She watches as he humors her with a few bites of his pasta. Normally, she’d be hearing about how good her cooking is (she’s aware), but she understands that Jacob’s been fighting this hangover all day. She has to admit, she didn’t expect him to be so battered down at 6:00, but he did push it a little too hard last night.
Melissa is very cognizant of Jacob’s need to prove himself. Hell, she can relate to it. Growing up among the horde of Schemmenti siblings and cousins is what grew her love of competitions. She enjoys being the best at stuff, sure. But over the years she’s been able to appreciate the qualities in herself that aren’t measurable with trophies or accolades.
She just wishes Jacob could see that about himself, too.
After about thirty minutes of light commentary on the personalities of Housewives, Jacob excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving his half-full bowl forgotten on the ottoman. By the time the credits are rolling, Melissa is getting concerned that maybe he isn’t as okay as he’s pretending to be.
She’s about to knock on the bathroom door when he opens it meekly, face pale and slightly sweaty. He swallows thickly.
“Hey, I think I’m gonna go to bed early, try and sleep this hangover out of my system before school tomorrow.” He flashes her a winning smile which Melissa has a hard time believing.
“Okay, hon. Let me know if you need anything,” she tells him, and she really does mean it. But even though Jacob nods at her words, she can tell he has no plans of actually taking the offer. He disappears up the stairs, and she can hear the sound of his door shutting behind him.
–
Melissa is fiddling with the coffee maker in the lounge when the other teachers start to file in. They pass out their customary “good mornings” before settling down in their usual spots: Barb with her bible verses, Janine and Gregory sharing a quick breakfast, and Mr. Johnson reorganizing the supply closet.
“Hey, Mel, you have got to send those pictures from Saturday to the group chat,” Janine requests, sidling up to her as Melissa passes her the coffee pitcher.
“Oh crap, I forgot, didn’t I? Hold on, let me redownload ‘em. Stupid phone keeps offloading them to the cloud or whatever.”
Janine sets the pitcher down and begins pouring a mountain of sugar into her thermos. She peers over Melissa’s shoulder as she sips her creation, only stopping when Melissa scrolls past a photo of Jacob doublefisting two vapes like a walrus. “Stop, that one’s so funny! Jacob got so messed up,” she chuckles.
Everyone’s phones ding as she forwards the photos. “Damn, Jacob got crazy,” Gregory comments disapprovingly as he likes the message.
Barbara takes a swig of her tea and says sagely, “It’s always the quiet ones.”
Gregory cocks an eyebrow. “This is Jacob we’re talking about. I wouldn’t say he’s quiet.”
Barbara points a finger in the air, as though to say True.
Janine returns to her boyfriend and taps something into her own phone. “I got some funny pictures of us, too,” she glances around. “Speaking of, where is he?”
Melissa joins Barb’s table. “I don’t know, he said something about setting up early for his class,” she leans in conspiratorially, “but I think he’s in the John. He had a helluva hangover yesterday.” She flashes a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
Janine perks up from her breakfast soon after. “Hey, there you are!” She waves Jacob over from the door, and he accepts the invitation.
Melissa can’t help but notice his face is still flushed the way it was last night, and his eyes are underscored with dark circles. Come to think of it, he was pretty quiet in her car on the way over. Meh. If he’s sick he’d say so, she tells herself. But the opening and closing of doors on his side of the house all night didn’t escape her notice, especially when it kept waking her up hours after he said he was going to bed. At least he didn’t puke on my leather seats.
She observes as Janine begins talking his ear off in her usual manner. He mutely nods and flashes a small smile every so often, but other than that offers no real contributions to the conversation. Her eyes flick down to where his arm is ghosting over his abdomen, every so often flexing his hand as he keeps his face steady.
She decides that she’ll check on him later. He’s old enough to be able to take care of himself, she reasons, but that doesn’t stop the flutter of concern in her stomach when the bell rings and he has to use the back of the chair to stand, barely concealing a wince.
–
Melissa never actually got the chance to talk with him between periods, and she took note of his absence from the lounge during his lunch period. But he’s waiting for her by her car when the last bell rings, and he seems to have more energy than he did this morning, so she shrugs it off.
At least he seems to be more like himself as she navigates the after-school traffic.
“And two days from now they have one of their last unit tests on the branches of government,” he chatters over the steady stream of horns, “Ugh, I keep having to remind them that it doesn’t matter if they were on a field trip, they had the rest of the weekend and today to study for it. Plus, Ava’s been breathing down my neck about getting the scores submitted on time, and she sent me a very passive aggressive email on how she’s expecting them to maintain their ‘streak’. And most of them haven’t even turned in the study guides from the textbook that’s due Wednesday.”
He sighs as he scrubs his face.
“Relax, kid. She’s only acting like that because your class has been getting some of the consistently highest scores in the school. I told you this was gonna happen if they started overperforming. I guarantee you that Addington pulled rank once they saw your Keystone results.”
She steals a look away from the road and gives him her best ‘tough-love’ eyes. He softens, and starts chewing on the corner of his thumb.
“Yeah, I know,” he sighs, “they’ve been working hard all year and they’re tired. But I know that if I could just get them to push a little harder, then–”
“–Quit fretting. They’re gonna do the best they can, but everyone’s in the spring slump, teachers included. I caught Barb taking a cat nap in her classroom while her kids were at recess today.” She turns her attention back to the road as the line of cars picks back up.
But Jacob doesn’t relent. “I think maybe some of the Liberty kids were saying stuff to them on the trip. I just don’t want them to feel less than, because they’re so intelligent. I wish they could see all their progress this year like I can; they deserve to feel good about themselves and prove everyone wrong for doubting them.” There’s a certain bite to his tone as says this.
Melissa has to muffle a snort at his words. You should hear yourself, kid. Instead, she settles for “They’re gonna do their best, and that’s all you can ask of them.”
He takes a drag on his vape, and blows it out the window. She can’t see his face, but she imagines he has on his signature ‘kicked puppy’ expression. Melissa knows the truth of her words from experience, but she keeps forgetting Jacob doesn’t have that yet. Some lessons need to be learned on their own, which means he’s gotta figure out that one test isn’t the end of the world by himself.
She pounds her horn when a red Nissan cuts her off just before the light. “C’mon! Acting like it’s fucking Black Friday or some’in.” She expects an eye roll from her passenger at that, or maybe a comment about her own driving since she never allows him behind the wheel.
But Jacob stays quiet, the only indication he notices is a slight bend in his posture as he winces from the hard stop, one hand cradling his stomach.
As soon as they arrive home, he’s disappearing up the stairs without a word, and her brows crease at the sound of a door closing shut.