One Bite ✓

[1] - One Bite

 [1] 

One Bite

Rory

"I loooooove you, man! You know that, right?"

"That's good to know," I replied dryly.

I held the phone up to my ear with my shoulder, while I chewed on my pen and flipped to next page on my calculus text book. The probability of taking four red balls out of ten would be four over ten so this means that –

"Where the fuck is my car? Someone stole my fucking car!"

And that was my cue. Adam didn't have a car.

I sighed and shut my book closed, throwing my pen on the dresser as I rushed to the wardrobe to shove on some pants, "I'll come pick you up, Adam. Don't do anything stupid."

"We have to find the asshole who stole my car! This isn't legal!"

"Neither is doing drugs but hey, you never let that stop you," I replied tersely as I jumped into my jeans. "Just stay exactly where you are and I'll be there as fast as I can drive."

I heard him say something about cars and transformers before I rolled my eyes and ended the call, shoving the phone into my pocket.

Bloody Adam always going for his stupid parties and making me his driver when he got stoned or mad drunk and sometimes both – I wondered how on this bloody earth we were even friends – the stupid cow. I adjusted my glasses and bounded down the stairs, not caring that I was making a lot of noise. I was the only one home anyway so I was felt free to make as much noise as I bloody well pleased.

There was no time to enjoy the solitude though, with Adam's ass probably stuck in a gutter.

I picked the keys from the kitchen counter, grabbed a bottle of water and was out of the house in record speed. I drove as fast as I could to the house supposedly holding the party – Adam was lucky I kept tabs on him and his parties or I would never be able to find him even though we lived in a small town – and there he was, standing outside with an empty bottle in his hands. He turned the bottle upside down and a peculiar frown designed his face, like he was wondering why there was nothing in the bottle.

Yup, he was stoned to hell and back.

I sighed and got out of the car, walking up to him. The party was still raging on full blast, making it look like the floor was vibrating. Cars were sprawled all over the street and lawn, a few people were making out against the door and the sidewalk and I grimaced in disgust. Get a bloody room!

He noticed me and a huge smile brightened up his features, "you came for me, nerd!"

Even when he was drunk, he never seemed to forget the nicknames he gave me.

"Yup," I replied, "come on and let's get you home."

He stumbled to the car, humming some random tune under his breath. He tried to reach for the door handle but kept on slapping the window instead. I could see him getting pissed, raising his foot to presumably kick the damn door open, but I rushed to him and opened the door before he could ruin my father's Toyota Cressida. Did he know how old and rare that car was?

"Fucking door," he growled as he got inside, slamming his head into the roof in the process, "fucking hell! What the actual fuck!"

I rolled my eyes and prayed for strength and patience before shutting his door and walking over to the driver's seat.