Signed /Dream Team/

56

I don't question Clay's words. Even though he's been bossing me around the whole day, I still nod and go to my room- his room- our room- the room.

I had forgotten about Nick's existence. But here he is, unbothered to the point where he thought playing 8 ball on Clay's PC was a good idea. I'm not surprised at this point; I just want to understand his thought process.

"Daily reminder that you suck," he speaks, eyes glued on the screen. His back is facing me.

"Daily reminder that your dick's not getting sucked."

Nick's neck snaps with a speed that I'm surprised it doesn't send his head flying off. He takes off his headset hurriedly and starts stuttering, but I don't need explanations to understand that he thought it was George who entered the room. Nick's so out of it that he didn't even realize that Clay and I were in the house.

"I, uh, I'm, uhm- hi."

Wise words from a wise man.

I just look at him unimpressed and start going through the drawers to pack my stuff. I have every right to act mad at him.

"So how's you- how are life- how's it doing.. going," I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep a straight face, "hi."

And he ends it with a greeting, realizing I haven't said hi to him yet. I keep myself busy with the clothes I'm packing, determined to not talk to him till I find out how much he was involved in the whole thing. And I'll get that information from Clay cause he's the only one I trust after everything.

"Oh.. okay, fine," Nick gives up, putting the headset back on, "bye then."

"Bye." I speak, lacking enthusiasm.

His head snaps to look at me again, eyes widened and mouth parted. And he gives it one more try, "Hi?"

And that's when I finish packing everything. I walk out of the door, looking back at him briefly, "Bye." I close the door behind me.

And turns out George packed Clay's stuff as well, so now all he has to do is grab one of the bags. How convenient.

Going back to the living room, I find Clay on the couch with Patches on his belly. I can sense the tension in the room between him and George on my skin and it's a pressuring feeling, even though they're not even exchanging looks.

"Done?" Clay smiles, making me return the gesture with a nod.

But before we go I want to give Patches a few scratches too. So I approach Clay, take a seat next to him, and put my hand on her cute little head, pouting when she purrs.

"She missed you too," Clay smiles at the little interaction I'm having with his cat, and I'm amazed at how gentle Patches is today.

"Not even biting me, look at her," I giggle, lightly scratching under her snout. She is guilty of biting me every time I try to touch her face, but I forgive her every time cause she's my favorite being in this whole house.

By the way, I forgot to address it, but I love how we're ignoring George. He's just sitting there pretending to be busy looking at his phone while his leg is jittering like crazy.

"She's-"

Clay's words get cut short as his attention freezes on the shirt he's wearing. Reflexively, I look at it as well. And my eyes widen as I see a wet patch emerging from under the cat.

"Patches, no!"

Even after yelling at Patches, Clay makes sure to be as gentle as possible when he puts her away from his body. The disaster is so visible. She peed all over his abdomen.

"Oh no.." I cover my mouth with my hand, almost gagging when Clay peels the wet fabric from his body, "go wash yourself," then I get hit with the smell, "please."

Clay's looking just as disgusted when he quickly leaves, immediately running the sink as he enters the bathroom. And George is barely holding back a smirk, still "busy" with his phone.

I bet he trained Patches to do that. She's a paid actor.

Because Clay left the bathroom door open, I see him taking off his shirt and rubbing his belly with soap and water aggressively. The way he's smelling his hands every now and then as if it's a good way of determining anything it painfully hilarious. And he's also whining and cursing while doing so. I feel bad for laughing.

The noise catches Nick's attention as well. He enters the living room confused, and takes hesitant steps towards the bathroom.

Standing behind Clay, he gasps.

"What the hell happened? Who did that?" We hear Nick's voice, but I have no idea what's going on in the bathroom.

"Patches did it, who else?" Clay comes out shirtless, and Nick follows him, brows furrowed and eyes focused on his back.

"Patches did that?" Nick asks again, pointing at Clay's back.

And it hits me.

Oops.

Clay is confused. As he turns around to look at Nick, George and I get a good glimpse of his back - decorated with red lines running down gracefully, turning crimson at the points where I didn't hold back. Sorry, where I couldn't hold back.

I smirk seeing the realization on George's face as he shifts in his seat uncomfortably and clears his throat. For the first time today, I look him straight in the eyes, enjoy the uncertainty in them for a second before looking down at my nails and twiddling with them - just to make sure that he knows. And I hear him gulping.

"Oh, this?" Clay finally catches the reflection of his back in the mirror. I think this might be the first time he sees the marks judging by the way he takes his time to admire them, "No, why would Patches do this to me?" He chuckles.

The way he denies it so effortlessly but doesn't care to explain is funny to me, irritating to George, and confusing to Nick.

"It kinda looks like.. like you know, like a.. you know," everything Nick's said today has been a masterpiece.

"Nick." George warns.

Whatever was about to go down in the room wasn't something I wanted to witness. I get up, grab my bag, looking at Clay as I make my way to the door, "I'll wait for you outside," I smile and he nods, looking satisfied.

And Nick must've realized. Or he got alarmed by the scene of George sighing heavily as he stands up.

"I'll wait with her actually," he quickly puts on sneakers, "if you need me.. actually, don't call me, my phone's dead. Bye."