Just

Chapter 7

Heavyn's POV

McDonalds is a convenient five minutes away from my neighborhood. And with Niall’s driving, we were there in a record three minutes. It wasn’t too busy, so we were seated at our favorite table with our hotcakes within minutes.

                He likes syrup on his. I like butter.

                “What are we doing today?” Niall asked, drowning the poor hotcakes in syrup. He’s probably hungry, all he had last night was a Twix bar. He never eats a full meal before games. Although he has never explained why, I know it’s because he gets nervous.

                Even Niall Horan, the well- known wide receiver of Waterview, gets nervous sometimes.

                I glanced at the time on my phone. It was just past 9:30. “Party is at seven-ish,” I said, glancing at him. “So we don’t have time for an eventful beach day,” I ruled that out, spreading the butter on my pancakes.

                “There’s a Lightning game on tonight that I want to see,” he said, maybe a little too randomly.

                I tried to hide my irritation, but I probably failed. The Tampa Bay Lightning are our favorite hockey team. Occasionally we go to games, he’s more into it than I am. But I indulge his amusement and get us tickets when we’ve got a free Saturday night.

                “You couldn’t have mentioned that before I was set on going to the party?”

                “We can still go,” he said, as if it were no big deal. “I just don’t want to stay long.”

                I shoved some pancake into my mouth, taking my time chewing. “Why can’t you just record it and watch it later?” I asked. “ESPN always has a midnight showing if worst comes to worst.”

                “I like watching them live.”

                I sipped at my sweet tea, washing down the first hotcake I have just devoured. Niall has already finished both of his and was now eyeing my second one. No matter how much I protest, he will end up eating half of it. “We’ll be at the party for like half an hour then,” I complained, pushing the plate towards him. He didn’t question my gesture, he just started cutting up his half.

                “We’ll be there longer,” he scoffed, his voice somewhat muffled because he’s gotten into the habit of talking while he has food in his mouth.

                Not that I have room to judge because I do the same thing.

                “Whatever. I want to be home by six so I can changed,” I told him. When it comes to Niall, I always have to give him approximations on my schedule. It drives him insane when he doesn’t know what’s going on. He’s controlling in that sense.

                Maybe because he doesn’t have much control over his life, so he controls what he can. Even if it happens to be my schedule.

                He nodded, cutting into my half of the hotcake. I quickly extinguished that idea as I stole the piece with my fork, eating it quickly. He made a quiet sound in disapproval.

                Boys are pigs.

                “Fine, so six we’ll be back. But back from where?” he asked. With the hotcakes gone he has resorted to chewing on the end of his straw.