Jasper hadn’t been in Foxcroft longer than forty-eight hours. Though he had grown up in the town, everything felt different - foreign almost. Most likely because he was different from his service. Two years was a long time to be plucked from the real world and spent in military bases across the globe. No matter the task thrown at him, Jasper had complied. He was fighting for his country, and that was all that mattered to him. That and the pay cheques he sent home to his mother; his father’s health care would not pay for itself.
Army life felt a million lifetimes away as he stood in the middle of O’Brien’s, pint in one hand as he listened to the stories his friends were telling. Back before his deployment, Jasper would have been one of the loudest at the party, his voice heard above the noise as he wove stories of what he and the guys had gotten up too earlier in the evening. Now he was more of a by-stander, preferring to catch up with their stories verses filling them in on his wartime ones. Heck, he wanted to forget of his time abroad and just relax, but he felt on edge, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He was ready and prepared for something to happen, even though he knew Foxcroft was one of the safest places to be.Â
He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something important would occur. So instead he drank - laughing at all the appropriate intervals as Grace recalled the time the gang tp’d their favorite teachers home. That was until he tilted his beer to his lips only for nothing to come out. Excusing himself from the small circle of friends that was quickly growing, he found himself at the bar, ordering another bottle of beer and waiting for the alcohol to kick in and ease his nerves.
