Chapter Seven
Microwave incidents
Let’s see how Smiley’s going, shall we?
Mark swung his bag over his back, and headed towards the car park.
He noticed the usual gang there. Charlie usually took Liam, Daniel and Matt home before he and Mark went home.
Liam, Daniel and Matt were mucking around and laughing by the side of the car. Charlie, however, was waiting on the hood of his jeep, with his arms folded. He was staring at Mark with an expressionless face.
It was only as Mark got closer that his expression curled into a sneer.
“Aila Rose,” he said. “You know her, don’t you.”
“Yeah,” Mark said, hopping in the passenger seat. “She’s my friend.”
“She’s the new girl all the popular bastards are bitching about?”
“Yeah.”
Charlie jumped in the driver’s side, while the rest of the gang jumped in the back.
They were silent while they dropped the three at their homes. Just as Matt reached the front door, Charlie spun around.
“I wanna fuck her.”
“No, she’s my friend, I’m not letting you hurt her.”
“I’ll be gentle, I won’t go too f-”
“Dude, that is SO not what I was talking about!”
Charlie paused, and laughed when he realised what Mark was on about. “Shit, my bad.”
“Yeah. You’re not using her as some random whore. She won’t be your one-night fuck!”
“Shit dude, I’ve never seen you so protective! Fuck, she must be pretty cool to go against your own fucking brother, who is seven minutes older than you.”
“Oh shut up, no one cares. And yeah, she’s fucking awesome, which is why you ain’t gonna hurt her.”
Charlie chuckled. “I’ve never met a chick who likes brokeNCYDE.”
Mark shook his head, “neither. She likes all the shit we listen to, pretty fucked eh?”
“Heck yes. She can hang with us anytime! We need a chick in our group.”
“She won’t be your fucking whore!”
Charlie laughed, “up and down, back and forth, I’m making her my whore!”
Mark shook his head, “you’re un-fucking-believable.”
They pulled up at their two-storey home, and jumped out of the car.
“By the way, I need to borrow your car later on,” Mark said as he opened the door.
“Why? Got a date?”
“No, I’m helping your ‘whore’ with biology homework.”
“Can I come?”
“Hell no.”
“Put in a good word for me at least, help a brother out. An actual brother.”
“What’s this I hear?” This last voice came from the kitchen. Their mother entered the hallway, a tea towel in one hand and a dripping plate in the other. “Are you two fighting over a girl!?” She asked.
Mark looked at Charlie, who looked back. They exchanged an exasperated look. Their mother was a bit OTT when it came to her sons and girls.
“I must meet her! Bring her over for dinner one night, tomorrow night? No, that’s too early, Thursday? Oh just bring her over sometime, what’s her name? Is she pretty?”
