As Told By Tuck & Axel

I Can't Sleep

I Can't Sleep--Tucker

I still don't like this project, but I'm going to write another chapter for Ax's sake. And I thought of something as I started drifting off to sleep tonight.

It's almost six AM. I couldn't think of the last time I stayed up this late while sober. Then I remembered Axel and me's first sleepover.

He was at my house. We had been playing Fifa for the greater half of the night, ignoring my mother's sharp knocks at the door reminding us we had school tomorrow. Ax's dad was on one of his many embassy expenditures and Rachel, Ax's mom, went with him this time. Ax was staying at my house for the weekend. It was now October, and this weekend I was hosting the Halloween party, much to my chagrin, and neither Ax nor I were too excited. I had to be sober enough to control the Fair Lawn High school population, even the slutty kitties, and Ax, now being my not-directly-stated-but-certainly-understood best friend, was obligated to remain semi-sober with me.

"Otto, c'mon we gotta finish that history thing." Back then, Otto was the most frequent noun in my vocabulary. Now, it's Axel. I think I made the switch somewhere around sophomore year of college. We had been best friends for far too long at that point; still calling him by his last name seemed pre-pubescent and very high school.

"One more round! You are being a joy kill!"

I laughed. "It's kill joy, man." By now, Axel was used to me nitpicking him on every fine detail of his English. He was good-no, he was great at speaking English, but he still had more to learn. He told me the only times he ever spoke English in Germany was during school and with his sister occasionally. His father was one of those men who took great pride in his nationality and practically outlawed the speaking of English in his house because of it. Which, to me, seemed quite atypical considering his position at the embassy. At this point in time it was only natural for me to question Mr. Otto, since I had never met the man. After I met him, (a story for another day) I would never question him again.

"We need to finish homework," I announced, Axel making no move to quit the game since the last time I spoke. I picked myself up off my beanbag and pressed the power button on my Xbox. Ax let out a groan, tossing his head back before standing up and grabbing his backpack and chucking it on my bed.

"What did my bed ever do to you?" I asked, laughing a bit. In high school I thought I was frankly hilarious. I now know that this was not the case.

Axel glared at me.

"You make me study, I hurt your objects."

I only smiled in response, flopping down on my queen bed and opening up my textbook. "Okay, demographic transition stages. Seems easy enough," I looked over at Ax. He had plopped down on the bed next to me, but was too engrossed in his damn phone to pay me the slightest bit of attention. "Come on, Axel," I whined. I only used his first name when I really needed his attention.

He scoffed at me. "You sound like my mother," he practically spat, his accent spilling out in heavy doses of S's that sounded like Z's. I had only met Rachel a handful of times at this point, but she definitely did not deserve the snippy tone Ax used when speaking of her. As my friendship with Ax grew, I later realized he used this tone when talking about anyone who told him what to do, even me. He is an egotistical, defiant, narcissist who has a "my way or the highway attitude," as my own mother still says of him. I love him nevertheless, for reasons that are still opaque.

"Suit yourself. It's your F," I mumbled back at him, knowing the possibility of failure was enough to shock Ax into a state of realization. He thought of everything as a competition, even grades, so the prospect of an F was the only way I really got him to do any of his homework.