I Still Need ✓

19. I'm happy, even happier and the very happiest

To our joy, our friends weren't as adamant as we'd feared them to be. It was mostly Rafael that flipped out every time we didn't answer his questions. Ruby gave up pretty soon, returning her attention to Riley, who was ironically the only one (besides Olivia) that could know. It wasn't that hard to put one and two together to get three. She wasn't all that interested in finding out, though. She was still being quiet, simply absorbing everything that happened in school and our friend group, and everything that Ruby fed her with, which she didn't really seem to mind. She looked quite content to just be around us. I suppose it must be nice to suddenly have a big group of friends after getting bullied at your own school. Olivia, on the other hand, happily skipped around, angry glares going straight past her, for Fred was invited for dinner and typically, that was all that mattered.

After school, the only thing I wanted to do was go with Dylan and Floyd and hang around in my room or Floyd's or Dylan's, until we had to go to school again the next morning. Not necessarily in a... dirty way, although I wouldn't be opposed to— Hugo, stop.

I really just wanted to be with them! Watch movies, play games, cuddle and talk and all that. Make up for the time we didn't have in school. And I wasn't alone in thinking that. As we exited the school building, Dylan immediately suggested, "Come home with me."

"No, I despise your dad," Floyd said, scowling.

"Same," he said with a chuckle, "but he's not home."

"Oh, in that case, sign me up! Why is he not home?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. He said he'd be back in a week or something. I don't really care, because he left me enough money for seven billion pizzas!"

"You're not seriously only ordering pizzas, right?" I asked him.

He glanced away. "Maybe."

"Dude."

"I'm kidding," he said with a smirk. "See, I got tacos, too."

I pressed my forehead into his shoulder with a sigh. "I know you can't cook for shit, but come on!"

"Let's cook together," Floyd offered.

"That is a great idea!" I said, pushing Dylan ahead of me.

So we went to get groceries and after doing our homework like the good students we were—writing down answers that were probably pure nonsense, drawing dicks on each other's work, and scratching the paper with our pens till there were literal holes in our notebooks—we made a very lovely meal. The preparation didn't go exactly flawlessly, but hey, at least Dylan's father hired a cleaning lady. I blamed Dylan. Mostly. To be frank, Floyd wasn't any better.

Damn, I was going to be the housewife after all, wasn't I?

After filling our stomachs with our home-cooked meal, we lazily left the table full of dishes and migrated to the couch, where we lay together with the TV on in the background. I had my arms wrapped tightly around Floyd's torso, Dylan had claimed his legs, and even if this position probably wasn't all that comfortable for him, Floyd was smiling like he was having the time of his life.

I suddenly felt the urge to just laugh from the utter joy I was feeling, so I let the satisfied chuckle that was daring to bubble up slip out and sighed as I put my chin on Floyd's shoulder. He turned his head and, since one of his hands was fiercely being held captive by Dylan, he had to use the other to pull my face to his and press our lips together. I laughed again and said, "Floyd, since when do you have secret acrobat skills?"

"I don't," he groaned, quickly shifting his body to face me so he was practically sitting in my lap—a much better position—and went back to kissing me. Cue me doing a little happy dance inside my head. Kissing Floyd was just amazing.