Darius:
"So, are you two cool or what?" Oakley asks, leaning forward on one of the couches in our getaway room at school, an Xbox remote in his hand and pressing on the controls, murdering three zombies in one go.
I'm lay back on another couch, my head resting over the side of it and my legs stretched out across it. Jeremy is also here, mirroring my posture on the opposite sofa.
Lee isn't here, right now. He's busy in class, refusing to skip with us because he has a test tomorrow, can you fucking believe it. I mean, we skip at least half the time and Oak receives straight A's at the end of the semester while Jere and I get a good range of A's and B's. And that's without any persuasion from our last names and or bank accounts.
But he's always been like this so we can't really blame him. The responsible one, as Oakley likes to call him.
"Who are you talking to?" I reply whilst texting my father back. He's wondering whether I have time to go to one of his warehouses and beat up some deranged mole who thought that leaking the company's information to one of our rivals was a good fucking idea. It wasn't.
But I'm currently on a mission to fully win back the love of my life. So no, dad. I don't have the time.
"You, smartass." He remarks.
"What? Me and Jeremy? I don't know." I look over at him, seeing him engrossed in his phone. "Are we cool?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. I'm still pretty hurt that you wouldn't share your coffee with me this morning."
"My sincerest apologies."
"Apology not accepted."
I roll my eyes. "If I get you one next time, will you accept it?"
"That depends."
"On what?"
"If you get my order right."
"Fine."
"Okay, we're cool."
"We're cool." I aim my words at Oakley, turning back to my own device.
It's not two seconds later that I drop it onto my lap, due to a pillow hitting my face.
"You know who I'm taking about, dipshit."
I sigh, gazing up at the ceiling.
"We're not not good. Things are just complicated. We still want to be together but she needs time to properly heal herself. She's the one who remembered everything and suffered while I forgot that she fucking existed."
"But you're still together?"
"Of course we are. I'm not fucking letting her go."
"You should watch out for that guy in her social studies class, then. What was his name...?"
"Noah." I practically snarl. So he noticed that at some point too, huh? Fucking Noah. More like no, period. I fucking knew he had eyes for my girl.
"Yeah. I overheard him talking about her in the library before I came here. Said that he thought she was hot as fuck. That he couldn't wait to take that ass."
My jaw clenches, my hands balling into fists.
"I punched him in the face. Told him to watch his mouth and remember who she's dating. He walked out of there like a little bitch."
"Good." So that explains the forming black eye.
I'm sorry, Tells. But me and my knives are going to have some fun with him.
Not sorry to actually do it, I mean. No, that'll be a fucking good time. I'm only sorry that you'll have to find out about it.
"You going to take her out today?" He wonders.
"No. I have something else in mind."
"So you're not free to help me find out who Jere here has been celibate for a fortnight straight for?"
"A whole fortnight , huh?" I raise a brow at him.
He gives us both the middle finger.
"I said that it's Emily." Oak snorts.
"Fuck off." Jeremy narrows his eyes and then visibly shivers. "That chick fucking creeps me out."
"Has she shown up at your house any time lately?"
"No. Thank fuck. But she still keeps giving me this weird fucking look and trying to talk to me. She tried to fucking sit on my lap in the dining hall last week."
"Oh yeah, you missed some good entertainment while you were playing Dora The Explorer trying to find that cafe, dude." He tells me.
"Fuck you, man." Jeremy takes his turn to launch a pillow at our friend's head. "I'm not your circus monkey."
The distraction causes him to lose the game and he tuts before tossing the controller beside him and tossing himself onto Jeremy.
"Motherfucker! I was about to win!"
They begin to wrestle, Oakley trying to fight him and Jeremy trying to fight him off.
"Boo-fucking-hoo." Jere pushes him onto the floor. "I'll wait to see if I give a shit in an hour."
"You should give a shit." Oak grabs onto his arm, pulling him down onto the carpet with him and now attempting to take his phone. "Because now I'm not going to leave you alone until I find out who this girl is."
"There is no fucking girl." They struggle. "Ford, get up off of your pampered ass and help me."
I raise a brow, still lying comfortably on the sofa, scrolling through Tella's Instagram. So fucking beautiful.
I grin when I see a picture of us together, the one I posted while she was asleep on my chest, the photo of that very scene. Her dark hair is water-falling down the side of our bodies, a few strands lying on her cheek. Her eyes are closed, plump lips looking devastatingly kissable and her little fist adorably clutching at the fabric of my hoodie. My face isn't there, only my neck shows at the top of the picture but my arm wrapped around her waist in a protective hood is unmistakable when identifying who's in the photo with her, given my tattoo peaking over my sleeve. Well, that and the fact that I tagged myself and captioned it, Be careful. My boyfriend kills people.
She either didn't notice what I'd done or did notice and left it how it is, which is the option I'm settling with.
It has 164,336 likes and given I posted it only a week ago, I'd say that's a good amount of people who know who she belongs to. Not enough overall, but we'll get there.
I also found it funny, how she once said that she isn't that interesting or special and yet has over two hundred-thousand followers. I mean, not that that's important or anything but surely you'd think that they would follow you for a reason.
It's different though, I guess. Real life and social media. I'm just glad that she has Holland and Iris now. I see how happy she is when they want to spend time with her. I'm especially grateful that Holland and her are in the same learning grade so that when I graduate, she'll still have someone close to her that she's known for at least a year.
I do however, believe I will lose my goddamn mind over not being at school with her everyday. Tella's way too trusting. And though that's one of the reasons why she's such a good fucking person, I'm aware it can also get people into trouble.
Fuck, would it be a terrible idea to purposefully not graduate and stay with her for another year?
"Ford!"
I groan, standing up from the sofa and walking over to the two idiots rolling on the floor.
"Fucking toddlers." I comment but extend my hand, anyway.
None of them take it, instead, they glance at each other, then back at me, then both grab my arm, dragging me down with them.
I should've seen that coming.
"What was that?" Jeremy gets me into a headlock.
"Who's the toddler now?" Oakley rushes somewhere and I realise that I left my phone on the couch.
I manage to break free of Jeremy's hold, knocking him down and practically leaping over the table to get to Oakley.
"Give it the fuck back." I ram into him, causing us to crash into the sofa.
A few moments later, I have my phone and turn my head to glare at him when I see what he'd done.
Me
Mom I think I have an STD.
There's a huge wart on my dick.
"Are you fucking insane?" I yell and the asshole runs behind the couch, all the while smiling like a Cheshire Cat. "You're fucking dead!"
"What'd he do?" Jere looks over my shoulder and his eyes go wide. "Oh, shit."
"It isn't fucking funny!" I shove him.
"No. No, of course not." He looks away, covering his mouth with his fist.
"Jesus fucking-"
Ping.
Mama
What?!?!?!
Are you being serious?????
Since when???
Tell me you and Tella haven't done anything.
Okay.
No. It's okay.
I'm going to pick you up and we're going to see the doctor, alright?
It'll be okay.
"Goddamn the both of you." I growl.
"What the fuck did I do?" Jeremy asks, offended.
Me
Calm down.
I don't have an STD.
Or warts of any kind.
That was Oakley.
Mom?
Mom!!!!
Tell me you're not on your way!
When she doesn't reply for a good minute, I start to pace but then she rings me instead.
"Are you sure?" She asks warily into the phone. "You know you can tell me, right? I know I called you a whore that one time but I swear I won't say anything. I love you."
"I know." I drag a hand down my face. "And yes, I'm sure. Look, I'll prove it."
"Oh, I'm holding a lot of stuff. I can't look at a picture right this second."
"What-? No! Mom- Just-" I press the device into my chest and gesture for a Oakley. "Get the fuck over here."
He does and I put the call on speaker.
"Hey, Mrs Ford." He greets nervously.
"Oakley Oscar Wilde." She reprimands. "Did you pretend to be my son and tell me he had a sexually transmitted disease?"
"Ooh, you're in trouble." Jeremy sings.
"Umm. Perhaps."
"And why is that?"
"Because... I thought you should know the truth-"
I smack the back of his head. "Dude!"
"Okay, okay, fine. I have no excuse. I'm sorry."
"I hope so." She remarks. "I'm about to go to the Russian bakery and I will only be buying strawberry pavlova."
He gasps. "No kiwi?"
"No kiwi." She says.
"But-"
"No buts. I hope you'll think before you act next time. Yes?"
"Yes." He sighs.
"Okay. I have to go before I drop these bouquets. I love you! And Darius and Jeremy and Lee even though he's probably in a class right now and not skipping with you three, which you should not be doing, by the way-"
"Okay, mom. Love you, bye." I end the call and blow out a breath, dropping into the sofa, the other two following suit.
Oakley practically curls into a ball. "No kiwi."
That's what you fucking get.