Games

8

Josh!"

The door to my room flung open, revealing my mum standing on the other side. I was seated crossed-legged in the center of my bed, laptop open in front of me and a turkey sandwich that was falling apart between my teeth. Of course she wanted to bother me now - again. I knew exactly what it was about too.

"Have you been applying?" She asked, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed. With a roll of my eyes I nodded, doing my best to ignore her persistent stares. It wasn't really working though, because although I'd already answered her question she was still standing there.

Groaning, I sighed and pulled the sandwich from my mouth, lifting my head up before turning to look at her, chewing the food in my mouth. "What?" I asked, mouth full, making my speech muffled.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know?" I shrugged, "Why don't you?"

"Don't get smart with me."

"Can't you just leave me alone about that for once?" I whined, falling back on the mattress and staring up at my blank, white ceiling. With my hands folded over my stomach I twiddled my thumbs around, huffing when she turned to face my dad, who just-so-happened to be passing the hallway at the worst possible time.

"Tell your son to stop being a smart ass and to keep applying to colleges," she said, stepping aside so that he was more in view. I turned my head to look at him, trying to hide the smirk that threatened to make its way onto my face. I would have no problem with my dad. He found mum half as crazy and annoying as I did. (sure, I loved her, but she really needed to lay off sometimes.)

"Josh," he said with a fake-sternness to his voice, hinting his carelessness to the situation. "Listen to your mother and start applying for colleges." As he backed away mum turned back to face me, and in the was out of her sight he raised his index finger to his temple and rotated it in a circle, jokingly indicating her craziness. I bit my lip and hid my smile, watching as she turned around and almost caught him doing the motion, to which he responded with an innocent look. Defeated, she let out an exasperated sigh and left my room, closing my door as she turned. Thank fuck.

When I was sure she had actually left and wasn't standing outside my door listening in on me, I returned to my laptop screen, scrolling through my Skype contacts and trying to find the username I was looking for. I found it when I came across the 'O''s, smiling when the name "Oliver Sykes" under the username "olobersykes" appeared on my screen.

Oliver had wanted to Skype at precisely this time on Saturday. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't oppose to it. After the whole vibrating situation I'd come to realize that maybe I was a lot more open and willing to doing things I usually would find out of my comfort zone. I think it was because it was with Oliver, and I knew he'd never hurt me or let anything bad happen to me during it - well, at least not intentionally. He always let me back out and so far I never needed to.

Clicking on his name, I started the call and waited patiently for him to answer. The screen began to load not long after, and soon enough his face appeared on the monitor, his messy hair tousled about his head just the way I liked it, an oversized sweater covering his chest.

"Isn't that a bit big?" I asked with a chuckle, referring to the article of clothing on his torso.

"Isn't that what you said the first time you saw my cock?" He retorted, shooting me a cocky smile.

"I actually recall wondering where it was," I replied, lifting up my middle finger to the screen.

"You're a bitch," he laughed, tugging the sleeves of his sweater over his hands, rubbing them together quickly. "Is it as cold in your house as it is here?"