Brielle

twelve

BRIELLE

It's Friday today, and everyone has been non-stop talking about this stupid football game.

I get it's a big thing, but it's not huge. You don't need to start some kind of song or something and shout it through the corridors.

It's embarrassing, especially if you loose after all that effort.

Like it's not like we're in the UK and people are cheering after huge teams that have thousands of supporters, millions even. Like please, save some dignity.

Ben is currently sat on the counter behind me in his football kit as I'm washing the dishes.

Dishes that him and Grayson left this morning.

Speaking of Grayson, ever since Tuesday evening we haven't talked. Not properly at least, the occasional 'what's for dinner' 'shower is mine'.

Along with the occasional have you eaten? But I usually just shrug him off, its not like he really cares anyway. If he cared he would of asked me what really happened at the diner three days ago instead of blaming me.

But no he didn't.

Other than that, we haven't talked and it's honestly weird. Not having his snarky comments and stupid nicknames being fired at me while I make dinner or something.

"Tonight Els, don't worry about making dinner for Gray as well. Just me and you," Ben sighs pushing himself off the counter, holding up two fingers.

"Why? What's he doing?" I pause, "Finally going home?"

Grayson has hardly been at the house this week, always out or staying over at someone else's house. But every time he looks at me, he looks as though he's disgusted.

"Not yet Els, you have to trust me when I say he can't go home at the moment. It's not good for him," Ben mumbles, leaning on the counter next to me.

Being blamed for some old man's actions isn't good for me, but yet here I am.

It's nice how he always finds time to hang out with me: following me around while I do the laundry, eating ice cream while I wash the dishes, but he never helps out.

I roll my eyes, I couldn't give a shit about Grayson after he practically blamed me on Tuesday while not even letting me speak.

"But he's staying over at some girls house, Tiffany," He adds, why's that name familiar?

Oh yes, the blonde bitch from the hockey arena a few weeks ago. The one who practically glared at me the entire time.

"I think they're getting pretty serious," Ben continues and I sigh.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask, turning to face him with a bored expression on my face.

"Just thought you'd want to know," Ben shrugs before ruffling my hair, probably messing it all up.

Maybe there's a little jealousy that Grayson is spending so much time with Tiffany, especially after he said he wasn't interested in a relationship and now he might actually be settling down.

No. You're not jealous, he's a dick.

"Oh well, he can do whatever the fuck he likes," I grumble, pulling my lips into a thin line.

Ben leans towards me and I flinch moving away from him, his lips are pouted.

"What the fuck?" I gasp, trying my hardest not to laugh in his face.