"Common! Squeeze out your juices already!" I yelled at the unevenly cut pieces of chicken that sizzled in the pan. Unfortunately I had run out of oil, so they had to rely on themselves to not stick to anything they touched. Which included my spatular. "Get off!" I hit the spatular on the side of the pan, which caused the chicken to fly off.
"Just use margarine!" Dane called from the lounge room.
Or maybe you could help. But no, he was too busy being a sassy little fuck, drinking his Italian imported red wine.
"I don't trust margarine!" I called back. That was bullshit. I just didn't trust my margarine. Who knew what could happen to it after it had been sitting in the fridge for well over a month. Maybe it had turned into plastic? Either way, I wasn't touching it.
With the chicken finally cooked, I tipped it onto the salad. An arrangement or lettuce, cubes of cheese, cherry tomatoes, and cucumber. I was far off from being a Master Chef cook, in fact I was a horrible cook, but I wasn't dead, yet.
"Tada!" I exclaimed as I brought dinner into the lounge room.
"What is that?" Dane replied, glaring at the bowl of food.
"Salad with a bit of chicken?" I answered, frowning. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Shut up and eat it!" I plonked my self down next to him. "So as I was saying befo-"
"Shhhhh, zip it! Desperate House Wives is back on," he yelled shoving his hand in my face.
"Whatever," I mumbled shoving a forkful of food in my mouth.
***
Half an hour later Desperate House Wives was finally over. Thank god.
"So you were saying, Hun?" Dane said to me, turning the TV down and resting his head on his fist.
"Oh right.. So right as we're just lying there, he says 'I love you,Tiffany'! Like who the fuck is Tiffany?!" I looked at Dane and sighed. "Do you think she's hotter than me?" I pouted.
"Honey, nothing can compare to your hotness. I mean, look at the sun. Sometimes when I compare you two together I mistake it for the North Pole!" He winked.
"Hah, you're funny." I groaned.
"I know," he said, flicking his hair to the side. Sassy. "Anyway, maybe you heard wrong?"
"Are you serious? Tiffany and Jordan sound nothing alike! Tiff-an-ey. Jor-dan. Are you calling me deaf?!"
"No, no! Of course not!" Dane defended. "I just want you to make sure you didn't make a mistake."
"If you want to talk about mistakes, talk to his parents!" I huffed.
"Well maybe he just didn't want to call out a guys name?" Dane chuckled.
"I swear I will break this bowl over your head," I said, motioning to the half eaten bowl of food. Dane put his hands up as a plea for surrender. "I just don't understand why guys always do this to me. It's always me."
"You're surprised?" Dane blurted out. Immediately I threw the nearest cushion at his face. "No offence intended, but every time I see you you have a new guy clung to your arm. You've been on more winers than hienz ketchup. Your legs are spread more than Nutella. You hav-"
"Yeah! I think I get the point!" I cut Dane off, crossing my arms.
"Oh come on, Jordan! Don't tell me you didn't sleep with someone last night!"
"Yes! Dustin! Anyway, what's your fucking point? It's just sex!"
"This just sex your talking about is all guys see you as, just sex!" Dane said, doing quotations with his fingers every time he said 'just sex'.
"You're suppose to be my best friend. You're suppose to tell me that you love me, and that I'm pretty." I moaned, hitting his arm.
"I do love you, and you are pretty. You just happen to be a slut too!" I glared at him. I'm not a slut. "Okay, don't believe me? Just write a list of all the guys you've slept with." I stared at him as if he just told me that dinosaurs still exist. That kind of 'are you fucking serious right now' look.
"And this will accompli-"
"Just do it." He said, shoving a pen and note pad into my hand.
"Ugh, fine, asshat."
"My name first, honey." Dane said winking at me and referring to the list. "You were lucky to catch me before I turned gay." I wouldn't classify being 17 and drunk 'lucky'.
I wrote his name down, followed by another ten names.
"I'm done, that's all I can remember." I said, dropping the pen and leaning back.
"Hand over your phone."
"What? Why do you wa-" before I could say anymore, he snatched the phone from my hands. "Hey!"
"Knowing you, you'd still have all the guys you've slept with numbers on here." He said, going through my contacts. Shit, he was right. "Oh! Whose Arron?" Dane asked biting his lip and admiring the shitty little picture next to the contact name.
"He's straight, sorry." I said snatching the phone back.
"Awh! Why do you get all the hot guys?!" He moaned. "Just hurry up and write the names down already!" I flicked through all the contacts, writing down the names of everyone I had slept with. Adding any name that came to mind as I went.
***
"I think that's all of them," I mumbled, passing the list to Dane.
"Holy damn, that's 100 flat." He finally said after a few minutes of flicking through the pages. "Are you like really lo-" I glared at him. "All I'm saying is, is it anything like throwing a hotdog down a hallway? Like if you were giving birth, would the baby kinda, just slip out?"
"No actually, if you must know." I scoffed. How the fuck am I not as stretched as a balloon?
"Honey, I say this in the nicest way possible, but I think you're a sex addict."
"Fuck off." I grumbled.
Sex addict? No. I just like sex, right?
