Bad Boy Chemistry

6. Happy Berthday Ellie?

"I'm sorry, Ella. The guy had to rush it." Olivia sincerely apologised.

For a moment, it looked as if Ella was about to have a mental breakdown, but then she laughed uncontrollably.

Tom lit the cake and we began singing happy birthday.

"Do you want a piece?" Ella asked me before anyone else.

"No thanks. Not very hungry."

I wasn't lying.

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent." I smiled.

"Alright."

Clayton—dressed up as Clyde—came to stand next to me, holding a can of beer out for me to take. "Did you tell the baker to mess up the cake?" I asked.

Clayton smiled, which meant yes.

"Just keeping up with our traditions."

Whenever it's one of our birthdays, the other's always pull a prank. For Ella's birthday last year we shoved the entire cake into her face, which then resulted in an all out food fight. 

For Clayton's birthday last year, Ella and I shaved off all of his hair, including his eyebrows, while he was sleeping.

For my last birthday they doused me with honey and maple syrup. I admit that it tasted good, but it was hard to clean off.

I open my can and take a refreshing sip, followed by a sigh of relief.

"Be right back, I need to use the bathroom." I excused myself.

I turned around, smacking straight into someone I didn't think would actually show.

"You should really watch where you're going, Connard." He barged my shoulder as he walked by, attempting to dry the small amount of alcohol I'd just spilled on his shirt.

He was wearing a regular t-shirt and jeans in his usual pitch black, not that I was expecting him to show up wearing a costume.

I brushed the encounter off and rushed upstairs to the bathrooms.

The second i had finished and returned downstairs, Ella ambushed me with a slightly taller-than-me guy dressed up as Where's Waldo.

"Charlie! This is Stanley." She introduced us.

"Please call me Stan." He said in a British accent as he held his right hand towards me.

"Hi." I smiled shyly, shaking his hand.

"I'll leave you two to mingle." She took her leave.

We stood there in silence for a good minute or two before he spoke again.

"I kinda feel like your friend is trying to set us up."

"Classic Ella."

"She's nice. I only met her the other day and she pretty much told me her entire life story."

"Yeah, Ella's one of those people who could talk someone's ear off."

"We all have that one friend."

I smirked at him, whilst taking in his features. He had wavy, dark blond hair and his face was specked with faint freckles.

I won't deny it, he's pretty hot.

"Ella mentioned you go to St Griffiths?"

"Yeah."

"So you know Ace Caldwell?"

"Who doesn't."

A lot of people, I'd imagine.

After conversing for the next hour, I excused myself to go to the bathroom.

I couldn't stop thinking about him. His accent seemed to cause my heart to flutter every time I heard it. We talked about a lot of things, which is unusual for me, given my shy tendencies. He told me about how his family moved here from London, and he even mentioned that he had visited Paris more than a few times, which made me jealous.

The line to the bathroom took forever, so I snuck into Ella's room to use her en-suite.

That's when I saw Ace seated at Ella's window smoking a cigarette.

"Smoking is bad for you." I said as I approached him.

He took a long drag of his cigarette, holding it in his lungs for a moment before blowing smoke in my face.

"What the hell!" I choked.

"Everything is bad for you. Life is a terminal condition." His voice was soft and serene, It sounded like dark and deep poetry. He even seemed sad.

"Is-is it true? That you beat up some guy at your old school because he was..." He looked up into my eyes as he took another drag from his cigarette. "Because he was gay?" I finished my sentence.

He furrowed his brows. "What, do you think I'd beat someone up because of their sexuality?" He practically spat.

I inhaled a shaking breath before saying. "That's what people are saying."

"Well, people are dumb." He exhaled smoke. "I'm not some homophobic douchebag."

"You might not be homophobic, but you're definitely a douchebag." I chuckled.

He laughed too.

"So what happened?" I wondered.

"It's not really any of your business, Connard." He said, putting his cigarette out on the window sill.

"Can you stop calling me that!"

"Okay. See you around, Charlotte."

Jerk!