My Mess

Chapter Three: Creampie Big Mac

"That's not what your mom says. And if you were really insulted, then you wouldn't be taking me to McDonald's because you wuv me so much," I squished his cheeks.

Brian just shook his head and kept quiet after my sick burn.

We stayed relatively silent as we left the school, with the exception of me pointing at the blue truck and saying 'your moms a bitch' before we made it to his car.

He had a red Chevrolet, bought for his 16th birthday by his beloved family.

It's name is Cherry, which in my opinion is basic as fuck.

As much as I may seem like a massive pain in the ass, I loved to pretend I had some class with things.

Such as not naming my red car cherry. Of course my car wasn't red, he was green, but was I gonna name it Green Apple? No, that would be fucking stupid.

While we were driving out of the schools parking lot, we saw Mr. Lambo with Isabelle.

The argument they were having looked like it was huge.

There was no shoving or pushing, but we could see Isabella shoving her finger into his chest and watched as he rolled his eyes.

He wasn't a douche... right?

"Not my problem." I shrugged, deciding that today we mind our own damn business.

~~~

Brian shifted uncomfortably and I didn't blame him. The girl behind the counter was fucking golden. I mean, she was hot as hell and if I wasn't gay then I would've hit Brian on the back of the head to assert dominance.

Brian had a bit of an anxiety problem, which makes us the best pair because I had a bit of a 'so extremely extroverted you throw up' problem.

I was the guy you sat next to on a flight and thought: oh god. Not again.

And Brian was the guy who didn't move you when you fell asleep on his shoulder even though touching without permission is a Nono for him.

Right now he was uncomfortably licking his cheek as he pretended to scan the menu, and I was standing there knowing that, in about two seconds, he'd excuse himself to the bathroom, mumble his order and ask me to order for him.

As predicted he sighed, turned towards me and said: "I gotta piss, order me a Big Mac and a large fry."

I gave him a salute as he walked off, "don't grip the worm too tight." I said, and he glared as he walked off.

I had absolutely zero problem buying Brian's meal. When you're as good a friend as I am, then you just gotta do it, you know?

I bought two Big Macs, one with extra extra Mayo. I mean I told her to lather the Mayo on so thick that people wondered if somebody just had a very good night.

Then I ordered another normal one and when my order came out, I was not disappointed in the least.

I took my soggy Big Mac from the counter with confidence and grabbed the normal one and held it by my side.