The rest of the day, and week for that matter, was rather uneventful. In the middle of the week Ashton and I went for an impromptu dinner at a local pizza place, which was lovely, but came back to Erin and Luke having a screaming match in the courtyard; to my surprise, I was told this was a regular thing. According to Michael, they constantly fought. Apparently, Erin had been unfaithful in the past and now, when Luke didn’t trust her she flew off the handle; which was all news to me. I thought they were the happiest couple out there.
As the sun was setting on the humid Friday night, I was laying across Ashton’s bed, watching him and Michael battle in Call of Duty. The room was quiet except for the noise of weaponry blasting from the small TV Michael had saved for, cooped in the corner of the room. The occasional “fuck” or “What are you doing?” was mumbled from Michael’s lips but as I moved to rest my head in Ashton’s lap, there was a knock on the door, to which neither one of the boys flinched.
“I’ll get it then,” I giggled, wandering up to the door and unlocking it in one swift motion. On the outside stood a boy who looked all too familiar. Logan.
“Oh,” he muttered, realising who was standing in front of him. “I’m just here to drop off these flyers.”
He dumped two sheets paper into my hand, before muttering “Didn’t mean to offend you the other day,” and turning on his heels, making his way down the dingy corridor.
I studied the slightly crumpled fliers in my hand. A party, tonight, a few blocks from school, apparently featuring “sick beatz and mint booze.”
Walking back into the boys’ room, I chucked the fliers onto the bed and flopped onto my stomach. “Whatcha got there babe?” questioned Ashton, coming to lay next to me and snuggle his face into the crook of my neck.
“I thought you were playing COD with Mikey?”
“Nah,” he laughed, “He told me to bugger off because I’m not very good.” His hair flopped into his eyes as he giggled and out of instinct I swept it back, cupping his face slightly and smiling.
“I love when you do that,” I sigh.
Gagging sounds came from behind us as I looked over Ashes shoulder to see Michael pretending to be sick. “You two are fucking gross,” he mumbled over his game, his eyes never leaving the screen. “I can hear your mushy shit and its making me lonely, so stop please.”
Laughter escaped from my lips as I shook my head. “Anyway,” I began, “There’s a party tonight, are you up for it?”
“Will there be booze?” Michael shouted over the sound of a machine gun.
I nodded, before remembering he was still engorged in his game. “Yeah,” I shouted to him, “You in?”
He nodded his head quickly and I turned my attention back to my boyfriend who had a worried look on his face.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea…” he murmured. I pecked his cheek, then his forehead, and finally his lips, smiling at him. “It’ll be fun gorgeous. I’m not gonna drink, and you don’t have to either.”
He rolled his eyes, giving in and kissed me again, this time a soft, lingering kiss.
“Go get ready,” he smirked. “I’ll pick you up at 9pm.”
