՞՞42՞՞

648 40 9
                                    

The noises coming from the other house made me question if I was going to an actual place where people lived or a literal jurassic park. Nick and George were screaming at each other again.

And somehow, despite the volume of their inhumanely loud screams, my silence was so much louder. The moment I opened the front door, they froze in their tracks.

Looked like both were busy tugging at a pillow and arguing over who got to keep it.

"Will you go stay at the other house for a couple of days?" I wasted no time proposing my question - more like my plea - to George.

He took in my appearance momentarily and probably guessed what had happened. But he didn't guess hard enough, or else he’d realize that protesting wasn’t a wise move.

"Why can't he go?" Snatching the pillow from Nick, George proceeded to hit him with it, as a way of gesturing toward him.

"Because she said you should go," Nick retorted, pulling the pillow back and hitting George with it harder.

"Well, what if I want to stay?" George shot back.

I really couldn't deal with this for much longer.

"Do you really want to stay, George?" The tone with which I asked the question already hinted at the right answer; he hated dealing with me when I was in a bad mood. He hated me when I was in a bad mood. Of course, he didn’t want to stay.

George rolled his eyes, muttering a little "fine" as he pushed Nick away, who was already celebrating his victory with extra pillow hits.

"How long are you gonna stay?"

The question was purely out of curiosity because George didn’t even plan to take any clothes with him. The houses were so close that he could grab anything he needed anytime. There wasn’t really a point to packing. I only grabbed a few things myself because I didn't want to go back and see that asshole every time I needed a shirt.

"I don't know, George," I said, my irritated voice already making his face distort with cringe.

"Are we still going on that stupid Texas trip?" He continued.

"You're stupid, bitch," Nick joined the conversation just to verbally and physically assault George by making sure to throw the pillow at him. And since he only did that and didn't answer, I figured the decision was up to me.

"Yes, we are," I said dryly, not wanting to ruin something they’d been looking forward to for months because of a dumb fight I had with my even dumber boyfriend. Or ex. Or something, I don't fucking know.

"Alright, see you in Texas in eight days then. In case you decide to bed rot." George remarked, his stupid comments doing nothing to help. This was one of the many reasons I preferred Nick's company over his.

"I'll be rotting in your bed, for your information," I said, stepping out of the doorway to let George pass. He just bumped my shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"And I'll be having fun in your bed," he smirked. It wasn't a great comeback; if anything, it was disgusting.

"Yeah, I sleep on the left side, if that helps. Don't have too much fun on Clay's side." I replied, ready to close the door and end this stupid conversation. But George's bewildered expression was worth waiting a few more seconds.

"Wait... there's only one bed at your place... where am I gon-"

That was the perfect moment to close the door.

I didn't even feel bad for him. One of them can sleep on the couch. Of course, only if they mind sleeping together, which I don't even think they do.

I sighed at my own thoughts, threw my bag on the sofa, and followed it by lying down next to it. I wished I had stayed sad because anger was a lot harder to control and deal with.

I kind of wanted to kill their lizard.

"Should I ask or...?" Nick took a seat not far away from me, his approach careful.

"Ask what? I think you already know better than me that your friend's a fucking dick."

"Which one?" It was hilarious that he needed clarification.

"Both, but the taller one is insufferable."

"Oh, your boyfriend." That was such a slap on the face, and he did it on purpose, "What did he do?"

Nick sounded tired of the same pointless conversations, and I couldn't even blame him.

I was tired too. I didn't even want to go into detail because if I voiced his words of telling me I overreacted, the chances of me killing that lizard out of anger would increase exponentially.

"He's my ex and he's a huge fucking dick." I groaned.

"He also has a huge fucking dick..."

"Nick, the fuck?" I had to turn my head and look at him judgementally despite the fact that my position allowed little or no movement.

"What? Did I lie?" The fact that he was still going with it.

"Does he fucking pay you to say that stuff? And how and why the hell do you even know that?"

He sat up straighter, as if about to reveal a worthy piece of information.

"I found out the hard way. Emphasis on the hard. It was hard. And it was hard."

Just a massive sigh. I had nothing else.

"And he doesn't even pay for my therapy, so no, he doesn't pay me. I'm just traumatized."

If I kept sighing my lungs would collapse. So I switched to facepalming as his monologue continued.

"But for real, what did he do? What's the issue?" He asked.

Finally, a good fucking question. I didn't even need time to think, I could give him a whole list on the spot.

"The issue is that he still has an unhealthy amount of possessiveness, he still has jealousy issues, and his ego is still through the roof, so there's literally no point in trying to explain anything to him if he thinks otherwise."

Nick's lack of reaction encouraged me to continue.

"And he only apologizes because he knows that's what I want to hear-"

"Yeah, and you only want to hear apologies, don't you?"

The way he cut me off and confronted me felt like another hard slap in the face, reminding me that my issues were just as significant as Clay's. The worst part was that I needed to be reminded of them to even take them into consideration.

"I'm right this time." I frowned.

"Oh, you're right every time, sweetheart." The sarcastic chuckle wasn't what I wanted to hear, but for some reason it didn't irritate me. It weirdly relieved some of the tension.

"Yeah, I quite literally am," I shrugged.

"You're both so fucking problematic, it's hilarious," Nick laughed, shaking his head, "won't even be surprised if you give birth to a math book one day."

I narrowed my eyes and parted my mouth in confusion, waiting for an explanation.

"You know, because math books are full of problems? Cause you're both problematic and math books are-"

"Ahahahaha..." My face stayed stoic throughout my performative "laugh". He didn't like it one bit. He was proud of his joke.

"Fuck you, Elizabeth." The fact that he genuinely sounded offended made me smirk in satisfaction.

"Fuck you too, Nicholas."

He opened his mouth to say something but changed his mind.

"Could make a great joke, but too soon, I guess."

Coder Girl 2 /Dreamwastaken/Where stories live. Discover now