The Fag Swag [boyxboy]

The Fag Swag {13}

                “Have you guys seen Angel?” he asked, tossing an empty beer can on the floor and kicking it away from himself.

                “I think he’s with Molly,” I said with a shrug.

                Phil sighed in annoyance. “Dammit. He’s supposed to be my partner. I guess you’ll have to do, Nick. You better be good.”

                Oh. My. Lanta.

                “Of course I’m good,” I said, glaring at him.

                He motioned at one of the tables impatiently. “Then let’s start. You and me versus Nolan and Vinny. Brandon and Owen versus Kyle and Creigh at that table,” he said, picking up a ping-pong ball and bouncing it on the table as he waited for us.

                I stood across the table from Nolan and Phil stood next to me. The net on the ping-pong table had been taken off. Ten red plastic cups had been set up in a pyramid.

                Phil aimed carefully, a look of concentration on his face. He tossed the ball and it made its way into one of the cups.

                Nolan took it out and drained the cup before he aimed carefully. He shot the ball, making it in a cup. Phil took the ball out and drank it.

                He handed me the ball and glared at me. “You better not miss,” he growled. “I don’t like to lose.”

                I glared at him. “Shut up. I won’t miss,” I snapped. I turned and aimed before tossing the ball effortlessly into one of the cups. Vinny took it out and drank it.

                I gave Phil a smug smirk. I actually had good aim. I was good at beer pong. I played with Molly a lot, just for fun.

                Vinny aimed and threw the ping-pong ball. I caught it as it bounced and Vinny pouted. Nolan pouted at him.

                We continued the game, me and Phil winning. We ended up setting up another game and playing again, losing this time.

                “Tie breaker!” Nolan, now fairly drunk, cried.

                We set up another game and played. Phil and I managed to win and grinned at each other, also drunk now.

                “I have vodka in my room. Come on Nick,” Phil said, taking my hand and pulling me upstairs.

                He lead me through the crowd to a locked door. He grabbed the chain that was hanging around his neck up, a key hanging on the end of it. He used it to unlock the door and led me in, shutting it and locking it again.

                He flicked on the lights and swept his hand towards the room. “My bedroom,” he grumbled. “I always lock my room, the guest room, and my mom’s room when I have parties. I lock all the breakable things in the guest room, and all the hardcore liquor in my room.”

                “So it’s just you and your mom?” I asked as he dug around under his bed.

                He reappeared, holding two shot glasses, and nodded. He pat the spot next to him on his bed and sat down. He pulled out a bottle of Vodka and poured it into the shot glasses.

                “Yep,” he said and we tipped the glasses back.

                The Vodka burned my throat pleasantly as it made its way down. Drunk, I didn’t even care about getting Phil mad. I could barely remember that I had an act to keep up.