(Closed for Bad_Thad and Fira)
"No fucking way," muttered Chris shaking his head. The game was flawed, obviously, all of it. Rob disagreed.
"To the house boy!"
He watched his digital player high-step towards the end zone.
"Fucking bullshit, you know it Rob," Chris tossed his controller onto the couch, "Bullshit, all I gotta say."
"Hey, hey, salty chops, relax. I got lucky."
Rob reached up to give Chris a pat on the back. It was quickly brushed away. Chris cocked his arm back and faked a punch at Rob.
"Why'd you flinch?"
Chris spun in consolation victory. He hoped to distract Rob from reminding him about the game. Chris tossed air-combinations, allowing his breath to exit his mouth and nose in unison with each punch.
Music blared from Chris' pants, my milk shake brings all the boys to the yard. Christ. He had been home for just under an hour and already Camille was calling him. He aimlessly dug through his pockets, found and flipped open his Blackberry. Rob brought a closed fist to his widening mouth. Chris covered the bottom of the blue rectangle.
"Cut it, asshole," he warned.
Small coughs escaped Robs lips. Chris faked another punch before bringing a finger to his extruded lips. What a dick. The douchebag, also known as his best friend, had it out for Camille. According to him, she was simply fulfilling her duties as football and basketball team slut, extraordinaire. He had even actually tried to sit down with Chris to talk about it seriously, once. Which did throw up a few precautionary flags. A serious chat with Rob, was well, rare. He was a 24/7 goof, 365 days a year.
"Hey," Chris took a step further from the couch, "Hey baby. No, no, yea, I'm at Rob's," he continued to poke for passive escape routes. He rolled his eyes, "Ok, love you too, bye."
"PFFWAAAA!"
"Fuck you."
Chris headed back to his room and yelled, "What time are your parents coming back!?"
"About an hour and Mindi is coming too, and like, some of my aunts and shit!"
Chris paused, a nervous weight suddenly hanging onto the conversation. Mindi too? The words repeated in his mind.
He tossed his phone on the bed, "I thought she was still in Logan!?"
Rob neared Chris' door, "No, she's back. Her boyfriend lives here," he peered in to finish, "apparently he only lives down in Sacremento, he's coming tonight, I think."
Chris mentally slapped himself in the face. Of course she'd be bringing a boyfriend. He told himself he didn't care, because, he really didn't. Really.
He stopped curling his arm in front of the mirror. Maybe he'd go back home for a bit during the break. It'd be crowded, with everyone there at Rob's after all,what with his aunts, Mindi, her boyfriend, and himself. He speed dialed Camille.
He jumped at the thud against his wall.
"Save me some hot water!"
He replaced the phone to his ear, voicemail. Of course.
"No fucking way," muttered Chris shaking his head. The game was flawed, obviously, all of it. Rob disagreed.
"To the house boy!"
He watched his digital player high-step towards the end zone.
"Fucking bullshit, you know it Rob," Chris tossed his controller onto the couch, "Bullshit, all I gotta say."
"Hey, hey, salty chops, relax. I got lucky."
Rob reached up to give Chris a pat on the back. It was quickly brushed away. Chris cocked his arm back and faked a punch at Rob.
"Why'd you flinch?"
Chris spun in consolation victory. He hoped to distract Rob from reminding him about the game. Chris tossed air-combinations, allowing his breath to exit his mouth and nose in unison with each punch.
Music blared from Chris' pants, my milk shake brings all the boys to the yard. Christ. He had been home for just under an hour and already Camille was calling him. He aimlessly dug through his pockets, found and flipped open his Blackberry. Rob brought a closed fist to his widening mouth. Chris covered the bottom of the blue rectangle.
"Cut it, asshole," he warned.
Small coughs escaped Robs lips. Chris faked another punch before bringing a finger to his extruded lips. What a dick. The douchebag, also known as his best friend, had it out for Camille. According to him, she was simply fulfilling her duties as football and basketball team slut, extraordinaire. He had even actually tried to sit down with Chris to talk about it seriously, once. Which did throw up a few precautionary flags. A serious chat with Rob, was well, rare. He was a 24/7 goof, 365 days a year.
"Hey," Chris took a step further from the couch, "Hey baby. No, no, yea, I'm at Rob's," he continued to poke for passive escape routes. He rolled his eyes, "Ok, love you too, bye."
"PFFWAAAA!"
"Fuck you."
Chris headed back to his room and yelled, "What time are your parents coming back!?"
"About an hour and Mindi is coming too, and like, some of my aunts and shit!"
Chris paused, a nervous weight suddenly hanging onto the conversation. Mindi too? The words repeated in his mind.
He tossed his phone on the bed, "I thought she was still in Logan!?"
Rob neared Chris' door, "No, she's back. Her boyfriend lives here," he peered in to finish, "apparently he only lives down in Sacremento, he's coming tonight, I think."
Chris mentally slapped himself in the face. Of course she'd be bringing a boyfriend. He told himself he didn't care, because, he really didn't. Really.
He stopped curling his arm in front of the mirror. Maybe he'd go back home for a bit during the break. It'd be crowded, with everyone there at Rob's after all,what with his aunts, Mindi, her boyfriend, and himself. He speed dialed Camille.
He jumped at the thud against his wall.
"Save me some hot water!"
He replaced the phone to his ear, voicemail. Of course.
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