Indestructible: Reinforced

Chapter 41

Chapter Forty-One

     March 2012

     The End of the Triangle

     “What are you doing?” I shouted and accidentally spilled water all over the carpet beneath my feet. I put my hand on Drake’s shoulder and shook it roughly. “He’s kicking your ass! Do something!”

     Drake chuckled but didn’t take his eyes off the screen of his TV. He started pushing the buttons on the controller of his PlayStation more forcefully though and he stuck his tongue out. That was when I knew he was really concentrating.

     His flat mates sat around us, and he was playing some wrestling video game with Arnold, his college bestfriend. Most of the people here were cheering on him, so I had taken it upon myself to be Drake’s cheerleader. And he was losing. Big time.

     Arnold was a classic male beauty. He had silky blond hair and clear green eyes, and he looked like he was from the fifties or the sixties with his hairdo. And he was a gentleman, a very gentlemanly gentleman. I’d flirted with him a couple of times before, and now Drake didn’t like it when the three of us hung out. Drake didn’t like it when I hung out with a guy he thought was better than him. I thought it was ridiculous, I wasn’t going to leave Drake for his bestfriend just because he was good-looking. I liked to think I wasn’t that vain.

     “Your boyfriend is losing, Avy.” Arnold said in his swoon-worthy French accent. “It’s why he got his ass kicked.”

     I tensed but tried not to show it. Drake didn’t look pissed at all, he still had his tongue out and was staring at the screen. I doubted he’d heard what Arnold had said. “Arnold, if he wants to kick ass, he will kick it.”

     Arnold laughed and kicked Drake’s ass on-screen. “I beg to differ, ma cherie.”

     Arnold won and Drake sagged against the cushions. “Damn it, I’ve gone soft.”

     “You can’t even win infront of your girl.” Arnold chuckled. “You’re a disgrace.”

     I tensed again. What Arnold was saying could so easily hit a nerve, and I didn’t want Drake to sulk and be broody for the next couple of days. Drake could really sulk, and he usually sulked over my comment on a hot guy or an actor. Bringing up anything that had to do with what had gone down in the alley behind La Baragouin was going to piss him off. But he wasn’t sulking, he was just smirking and shaking his head. Was he just pretending?

     “Arnold, you’ve seen me in fights before.” He looked at Arnold. “Do you really think I can’t kick ass?”

     “When have you been in fights?” He’d never told me that he’d been in fights before. Drake didn’t strike me as the fighting type. He’d always thought violence was stupid.

     “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “A while ago. Why?”

     “You never told me.”

     “You never asked.” He grinned and then added in a low voice so no one else would hear. “You like that?”

     I blushed and smiled shyly. “Yeah.” I nodded. “Love it.”

     “Get a room.”

     Drake and I looked at Arnold. “Piss off.”

     He chuckled and shook his head. “Bon, je m'en vais.” He got up and stretched. “Alright, well, I’m off.” He straightened his clothes and looked at the others. “How about we give those two a private night-in? Let’s go get drunk and pass out somewhere. Come on!”