Neddie was back.
He dragged his suitcase through the door, the wheels pressing tracks into the thick beige carpet. He didn’t bother with the lights, it was too late and he wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation if he woke up his roommate. He tripped as a wheel got caught in one of the looped fibres and sighed in frustration, clicking the flimsy handle back into place and retracting it so that he could pick it up and drop it next to the sofa.
Thank God he hadn’t woken Calloway, or he wouldn’t have heard the end of this.
He assessed the room; not exactly spacious but it was liveable, and until he knew where his room was (if he even still had one) he was comfortable to crash out on the settee. There was a small kitchen unit in one corner, so he wandered over and checked the cupboards. Most of them were empty thanks to Calloway’s tendency to rely on takeaways for sustenance, but there was a packet of instant ramen in a drawer next to the hob.
He already knew that the first thing he was doing when he woke up was go out to buy food. Well, after finding out if Calloway had kept his belongings or given them to the charity shop like he always threatened whenever Neddie returned. He might not have been much of a chef, but instant ramen was a little sub-standard, even if all he ever really made was cheese-on-toast or varying dishes of rice.
He wasn’t home, but Calloway’s was the best place he knew.
*****
Calloway wasn’t even surprised when he woke up to find the flat smelling of chicken-flavoured noodles and his friend asleep on the sofa, still in his leather jacket and scarf. There was a half-eaten bowl of cold ramen on the end table, an empty glass leaving a ring on the wood. Neddie’s hair was soaked from last night’s rain and it had left a damp patch on the worn fabric where his head was flopped over the arm of the settee.
“Neddie.” He said sharply.
The boy startled awake at Calloway’s voice, a wide, sleepy grin on his face. He shook his head so that his curly hair hung down loosely, longer than Calloway remembered and almost down to his shoulders. He glanced at the bowl of ramen and then looked back up at Calloway, his languid smile falling as he saw the annoyance in his roommate’s expression.
“Hey, Calloway.” He chuckled nervously as he waited for a response.
Calloway rolled his eyes and pulled Neddie off the settee by his upper arm, “You’re not living here.”
“What? Calloway, I have nowhere else to go.” Neddie said in a raised voice, stumbling as Calloway released him, “Also, it might have been nice to know that you’d moved, rather than turning up at some stranger’s door just to be shouted at and marched out of the building. I had to call up McConnely just to know the address. A little consideration please”
Calloway muttered what he supposed was an explanation, “It’s a one bedroom flat, Ned. I didn’t think you were coming back.”
Calloway looked guilty. Of course he’d known that Neddie was coming back, but he always ended up more than a little disappointed every time he left. Not giving him the new address was merely a spiteful act of vengeance. Now, of course, it seemed more serious and certainly more than a little petty.
Once he’d spoken he saw Neddie raise an eyebrow in question and heard his harsh laugh, not in the slightest amused. He didn’t look up (couldn’t look up), and after a moment Neddie took a step back and turned his face away from Calloway.
“I always come back.”
Neddie spoke softly and he sounded hurt but his expression was annoyed, angry. He picked up his bag off of the floor and debated in his head whether or not to use the extending-handle or not. He eventually figured that it would seem a little less dramatic if he wheeled it out of the door, so he heaved it up and strode out of the door.
