Spades

t w e l v e : halal pizzas & fake smokers

| TWELVE |
HALAL PIZZAS & FAKE SMOKERS

"Wait, wait, wait...Why the hell are you leaving already?"

At that the entire table stopped chatting between themselves. Isaiah glanced at his teammates and their girlfriends/cheerleaders as they stared at him, attention piqued by the loud question. He suddenly felt very much 'on the spot' as he slid on the strap of his sports bag.

"Dinner with my grandparents. I can't be late." He shrugged apologetically.

He'd stayed longer than the socially acceptable time to leave a gathering you didn't want to be in, and he planned on making a quick, chatty appearance and disappear after about an hour or so.

"Oh, come on, goalie! You haven't even celebrated our win!" Miguel booed, chucking a chip at him good-naturedly. "And it's not even six o'clock. Are you trying to catch the early bird special?"

Isaiah smirked as the golden chip landed limply on the wooden floor of the pizzeria. They were currently celebrating their three-one win from their rival school in the only restaurant in town that had a tab with the Sports Department.

Vino's was used to the sports teams from his school coming into their fine family-friendly establishment, shouting, yelling, chanting and doing whatever it was that high school kids did to show how happy they were about matches, and there was a sense of good sportsmanship in the air that the diners and other eaters definitely felt. If they hadn't, the rowdy group of sporty boys and girls would've been kicked out forty nine minutes ago.

"They're old, Miguel." Isaiah rolled his eyes in response. "Seven is late for them. And Hope's got school tomorrow. Helen gets pissy if she gets less than eleven hours worth of sleep."

"Wish I could get eleven hours worth of sleep," Kyle muttered wistfully.

"Wish I could get tucked in by your stepmum," Kwame laughed, high-fiving the guys around him.

"And I wish I could go." Isaiah drawled. "I'll see you guys at practice."

"Wait a second," Kyle started suspiciously. He had his thinking face on–eyes narrowed, brows scrunched up, hand in mid air. He seemed to strike gold eventually. "You're not coming to Efi's party!"

Efi, the gorgeous Nigerian-Ghanaian girl with a large mass of kinky, black hair and the hints of her accent turned to face him, slightly upset at the news.

"What's this? You're not coming to my party?" She scrunched her nose up and rethought her words. "It's not a party, Kyle. It's a thing."

Kyle grinned, not convinced. She rolled her big brown eyes. "It's a thing. Not a party. Just us, some pizza and a fuckload of my Daddy's booze."

"Sounds like a party to me."

"You thought Adult Swim was a show about a bunch of adults skinny dipping. Everything is different for you." Kwame said dryly, shoving chips in his mouth. "And it's not just Efi's thing, it's mine too."

"For God's sake, K. You're my twin not my fucking shadow." Efi scoffed. He threw a ketchup packet at her in response.

"I'll be there." Isaiah decided. "A little late, but..."