Fandom:Van Leeuwenhoek University (original)
Characters: Francisco Fonseca, Jimmy Whewell, Garret Schuttmann
Word Count: 607
Rating: PG 13? (language and drinking)
Summary: Alcohol is an excuse to speak your mind.
When Jimmy had a night off from basketball he was eager to spend it partying. Francisco wanted no part of the outing, but Garret had begged and pleaded and bribed until Paco was finally convinced to tag along. A night of sitting on a couch or leaning on a wall would be worth the new Rubia CD, or at least Paco hoped it would be.
Jimmy hit the drinks right away, in a rush to get the Capybaras and their losing streak out of his head. For once Garret was the one trying to get Jimmy to take it slow. His vigilant watch, however, quickly came to an end when he caught sight of a shapely blonde who was currently unattended. He decided to remedy this and left Jimmy in Francisco’s care. Francisco wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep Jimmy’s pace slow; he had no influence over the other young man and he most likely didn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. Still, if he could keep Jimmy from getting too drunk, he’d also get free double bacon cheeseburgers for a week, so he was going to try.
Francisco figured that the best way to distract Jimmy from his drink would be to have a conversation with him. However, it was proving to be difficult as Jimmy shot down every discussion topic that he brought up. This must be what Garret feels like, Paco figured, but he felt no sympathy. After all, he wasn’t keeping Garret from free food.
“Listen,” Francisco tried, going for his last resort. “Even if you get wasted now, the team’ll still suck and you’ll still have to play in Saturday’s game, so why not just spare yourself the hangover and occupy yourself by watching Garret get one instead?”
“If I can get my mind off of basketball for even one night, the hangover is worth it,” was Jimmy’s firm reply. He took another drink.
“What the hell is so bad about basketball?” Francisco demanded. He could hardly understand how things like unemployment and unhappy marriages led people to drink, but he was sure drinking over an orange ball was a stretch for most people. Jimmy set down his cup.
“It’s the only thing I’m good at.” Francisco blinked.
“Jim, how much have you had? You’re not making sense.”
“Just listen,” Jimmy ordered. “I’m good at basketball. Really good. So that’s what people associate me with. It defines me. It’s gotten to a point where I’m not good at basketball—Jimmy Whewell and basketball are the same thing. I don’t like that. Because if things don’t go well in basketball, like now, Jimmy Whewell isn’t worth jack-shit. I don’t like that have to win some stupid game to feel good about myself.”
“You don’t strike me as the type to have self-esteem issues,” Francisco voiced. Jimmy scoffed and took up his drink again. He nodded his head towards where Garret was now chatting with the blonde.
“You be best friends with Garret Schuttmann and see how long you feel good about yourself. He’s great with women, smartest fucker I know, good at everything he tries. You know, except for holding alcohol, but what’s his one weakness to all of mine? I may be taller than him, but he casts a way longer shadow.” Jimmy looked away from Garret to Francisco who was regarding him with an odd expression on his face. “Why the hell am I telling you this?” he demanded.
“Because you’re drunk off your ass?” Francisco offered. Jimmy looked away again.
“If you bring any of this up again, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.”