One shot #23 ~ Games

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"I can't go. I'm sorry, I just...not after last time," I dismissed him.
"I know, but this time will be different!" Thomas defended. Last time I went to a stupid beach gathering, I ended up getting rejected, stepping on a shard of broken glass, and ending up in the ER.
"How'd you know?" I shook my head expectantly.
"Because there aren't nearly as many people as last time. Please, just come with me! I need help asking Bethany out on a date," he begged.

That was why I wasn't going. Because he wanted to go out with stupid Bethany. Stupid, skinny, beautiful, blonde Bethany. She was twenty three - a year older than me, and Thomas. I knew lots of guys liked to go for older girls, but for God's sake, why her?

"Look, I just can't. You should just have fun with Bethany," I replied, accidentally sounding a little bitter at the end. Luckily he didn't pick up on it.
"What if I promise to spend the night with you, then ask her at the end? Please, I really need you there," he continued. It reminded me of last time, after I got rejected so hard my ancestors felt it - he comforted me, he held me, told me he'd beat him up for me. It reminded me that he was there for me, so, after much consideration, I decided if be there for him too if it didn't go to plan.

I sighed loudly as I gave in. He quickly pulled me into a tight embrace.
"Thank you thank you thank you-," he grumbled over and over. I was already regretting it.

We'd been friends for as long as I could remember - I often thought back to the times when we were young, running wild in grassy fields and talking next to Brookes in springtime, when we gazed at the stars underneath the willow tree outside my childhood home. We were virtually inseparable. He even stood by me on my eighteenth birthday when I got sick, and when I got hit on uninvited he'd bat them off like flies.

The only problem was that I was in love with him.

"Get off me, you toe," I pushed him away smiling.
"Rude," he replied.
"I'm going to go get ready, just stay here and try not to break anything," I teased, getting up off my bed and looking for something decent to wear. Eventually I found a warm yellow sweater and some jeans, seeing as I really couldn't care less for my appearance. Honestly, the thought of leaving my bungalow by the sea for more than a few hours made me want to retch.

Later that night, when we were arriving, I could smell alcohol and see a warm yellowish glow coming from the beach, the sound of people laughing mixed with the soft lapsing of waves. We sat in the circle of people, next to each other. Thomas was eyeing up Bethany, who was eyeing him up too.
"She's giving me the eye," he whispered.
"Looks like you're in luck," I commented, "all things considered,"
"All things con— what's that supposed to mean?!" He frowned and laughed confused.
"Well, for a start, you're a virgin," I nodded.
"You are too," he defended.
"True, but I'm not trying to bag someone who's probably had more sex than a porn star, am I?" I laughed.
"Oh, be quiet," he closed his hand on my mouth and I rolled my eyes playfully. My insides were burning with jealousy. I always thought it'd just be me and Thomas, no one else - nothing to worry about from the likes of outsiders.

"Uh, woah there, that guy - two O'clock," Thomas lowered his voice.
"Yeah...? What about him?" I huffed, completely not in the mood to talk to anyone at all.
"You're kidding me, right? I obviously likes you, and I bet you he'd go on a date with you if you ask nicely," He suggested. I looked at him with sorry eyes. A face that said 'please stop talking about boys'
"Sorry," he whispered, thankfully getting the hint.
"It's fine. I'm not really in the mood," I smiled. I wanted to cry, in all honesty. Although that guy was gorgeous and I knew he was a good, nice person...he just wasn't Thomas.

What really depressed me was that I was probably going to spend my whole life trying to find someone more perfect than him. Eventually I'd convince myself I had, and I'd settle, and convince myself I was happy. Then, part of my brain would nag me, and pester me, and force me to live the rest of my life wondering what could have been.

Newt/Thomas Sangster One Shots (warning: smut)Where stories live. Discover now