So, What Pick-Up Line Actually Works On You?

Chapter Seventeen - I Don't Care. I Had A Good Old Feel

Chapter Seventeen – I Don’t Care. I Had A Good Old Feel.

The awkward atmosphere that had settled has rapidly disintegrated into nothingness, but I could still feel some tension between Rhys and Tyson. So there I sat on the log between the two of them, a blanket of anxious energy looming over the three of us that nobody else seemed to pick up on. Miranda was next to Tyson, and then Damon and Tom sat perched on the log. Darkness was beginning to settle over us, the only light coming from the spitting fire and some strategically placed lights around the tents.

I wasn’t counting, but I was guessing that Tyson was on his fifth beer, Miranda on her third, Damon still on his first and Tom was completely pissed to be honest. Then Rhys and I sat there, sober and wincing at how brash Tom was when he was drunk out of his mind.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, but Annie, you can’t be related to Tyson. He’s all straight and no fun and boring and studious. Then you’re here with your free spirited ways, and your boobs which only Rhys has touched. And they’re fine boobs, it’s a pity you’re dying because I personally think the world should all get to touch you’re boobs. I’m not going to touch them as Rhys will detach my testacies if I do. He’s so sweet, and I wish I was gay, and him too so we could have hot sex.” Tom slurred happily, grinning sloppily and wrapping an arm around Tyson apologetically.

“Ah, but you see, I have permission to touch the boobs whenever I want. I practically own those.” Rhys chuckled, playing along with Tom and squeezing my shoulder.

“Dude, really? So you could just lean over and squash them whenever and wherever? Do it, if you do it, you are the man. You the man, Rhys!” Tom giggled while high-fiving Rhys and wafting his beer breath in my face.

“Well I don’t think Annie would appreciate me groping her in public. I’ve already touched them today.” Rhys commiserated, looking regretful.

“Aw c’mon, just this once! One little titty feel!” Tom whined, doing an emotional 180 in a matter of seconds. Damon tuned into our conversation, and doubled over with laughter immediately. Tyson was watching us all, glassy eyed and barely taking any of it in.

“Yeah Rhys, one little titty feel for the pissed out of his mind Tom! He doesn’t get any, and wants to see me get groped in public.” I teased Rhys, ruffling his hair and enjoying his slight blush and wide eyes.

“You heard the woman! She demands you do it, and so do I! If she was telling me to do it, I would.” Tom egged Rhys on, encouraging yet disgusting at the same time.

With a sullen sigh, Rhys grudgingly clapped his right hand in the general area of my upper chest, my coat and several jumpers meaning I didn’t even feel it. Tom cheered loudly, and gave a round of applause. Rhys’s hand slipped down to my waist comfortingly, and I got an apologetic half smile again. I shrugged, meaning it didn’t mean anything. I couldn’t even feel it.

Tom slid off the log then, hitting the ground and slumping pathetically before staring into the fire solemnly, “At least you two have each other, me, I have Damon and he is indeed male. What if I die alone, with sixty-seven cats in a box on the street with a welsh man laughing at me as I take in my last breath?”

Rhys had stopped listening to Tom, so I didn’t bother replying and left Tom to wallow in his self-pity. I leaned against Rhys, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Sorry for touching your boob, it was either me or him, and besides, I had my face pressed into them earlier, I own them. Mine.” Rhys whispered slowly, the side of his face against my neck. I nodded, not wanting to jostle him.

“They’re not together, Tom.” Tyson murmured, drowning the dregs of beer in the bottom of the bottle and smacking his lips.

“Wait, so Rhys gets to touch them and he’s just a friend?! Why wasn’t I informed of this rule?! I’d have been her friend a long time ago.” Tom yelped, shooting Tyson a disgusted look. Miranda and Damon were taking part in a hushed conversation, very close to each other and I wondered if that was what Rhys and I looked like. Or were we more volatile? One minute we were fighting, next nice, then fighting again and then sticking together like we were glued at the hip.