I disappeared quickly into the kitchen, pouring myself a drink and grabbing a ready meal that was nearly out of date. Whilst I waited for the microwave, an interesting conversation drifted from the lounge.
“Hey, Ol? Max is the gay guy, right?” a voice asked.
“Yeah, why?” Oliver replied, his tone seemed uninterested. I guessed he was distracted with his game.
“Damn, I’d hit that,” he muttered. I nearly choked on my drink.
“Dude, what have I told you about the gay stuff?” a third, irritated voice chipped in. “Keep it to yourself, for fuck’s sake.”
“Whatever, Tom. Oliver doesn’t mind, right?” I presumed the first voice to be Evan’s. He may have been of semi-celebrity status, but he wasn’t the least bit attractive. There was only a grunt from Oliver. I wondered how he really felt about his friends perving on me.
“So, is he single?” Evan continued. There was a loud screech of tyres from the game they were playing.
“Yeah, I think so,” Oliver replied. “But he won’t date your ass, I can tell you that now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evan replied angrily. I smirked to myself, knowing how totally correct Oliver was about that.
“He’s just not impressed by pot-head losers,” Oliver stated simply. “Even if they do play bass in cool bands.”
The microwave pinged and I turned my attention back to preparing my dinner. Food in one hand and a drink in the other, I wandered back out into the living room and made a beeline for my room, deliberately not looking across to the sofa, despite knowing Evan was watching me.
I settled down on my desk with my food, shovelling it eagerly into my mouth.
A few minutes later, I startled as my phone burst into life. I glanced at it nervously, checking the caller ID before answering. I breathed a sigh of relief – it was Becca.
“Hello, smell,” I greeted her, answering the call.
“Charming as ever,” she replied sarcastically.
“What’s up?” I asked, taking another mouthful whilst she answered.
“Not a lot to be honest, I was just ringing to ask if you were at home.”
“Of course, why? Are you inviting yourself over again?” I joked.
“Can I?” Becca laughed. “I’m bored off my head.”
“Sure, that’s cool – come over whenever. Though I will warn you, Oliver has his loser stoner friends over, so be prepared for catcalls and general mind-numbing idiocy.” I sighed.
“Ah, whatever. I’m not interested in what Oliver says or does anymore,” she replied confidently. That took me by surprise.
“Really? I thought you had a major thing for him?” I asked curiously.
“Well, he’s hot, but he’s a bit of a jerk too.”
I made a face. “Hate to say I told you so.”
“Alright, alright. Well, I’ll be over shortly then?” she asked.
“Sure, see you in a bit,” I replied, hanging up. I scooped the last of my dinner into my mouth and stood, starting to tidy up. Becca wasn’t exactly a VIP, but I doubted she would appreciate seeing my dirty boxers strewn around the place.
I took my uniform off and threw it into my dirty laundry basket before opening the wardrobe to select something to wear. I decided on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that were stylishly faded and frayed in all the right places.
It wasn’t too long before I heard the doorbell chime, and I hurried out quickly to answer the door before Oliver did. I needn’t have worried though, as he and his friends hadn’t moved an inch since I’d left the kitchen with my dinner.
I opened the door and Becca gave me a brief hug before walking inside and letting me close the door behind her. She removed her coat to reveal the tightest jumper I had ever seen. As she raised her arms, a large section of mid-drift caught my attention. I wasn’t the only one who had noticed her outfit. Oliver, Tom and Evan were staring at her from the sofa.
“Hey Becca,” Oliver called.
