Chapter Ten
Darren
Olivia was kneeling on the floor, and I looked around her room, bored. To be quite honest with you, I was sick of this game. The whole thing where we pretended like we were interested in each other. I wasn’t bothered about Olivia giving me blow jobs anymore, because it was all so repetitive. Also, I was finding it increasingly hard to keep focused on the thing in hand (no pun intended) and my mind kept drifting off to other things. Mainly, Jamie. This was a bit disconcerting when Olivia was ... ahem ... and I was thinking of Jamie. What she was doing, what she was wearing, what she was thinking about, who she was with. To be honest, I felt like a bit of a pathetic stalker. I was also doing my best to spend as much time as humanly possibly at her house, just so I could see her more.
“Olivia, get the fucking hell off me,” I murmured, shoving her away from me and zipping myself back up. Without another word, I turned on my heel and left Olivia looking confused, still kneeling on the floor, her mouth still open.
I marched into the bathroom, ignoring the intertwined naked couple in the bath, and threw cold water over my face, leaning on the sink. I let the water drip off my face into the sink.
Looking into the mirror above the sink, I gave myself a stern look and whispered: “get a grip, Darren.”
Pushing away from the sink, I pulled the shower curtain across so that naked bodies were hidden, and I went back downstairs.
Tiff and Robbie were dancing together, drinks in hand. It was nice, seeing them moving together to the music, dancing closely. Tiff swaying to the music and Robbie moving with her, hands on Tiff’s hips. They were laughing and drinking as they danced to the music.
I also spotted something I wasn’t too pleased about: Jamie was on the dance floor, dancing with that Simon bloke.
I was really concerned about that little relationship. I didn’t know Simon, so I didn’t trust him. From the limited digging I had already done, I knew that he was good friends with Olivia, and Olivia trusted and liked him. That probably meant he was a man-whore. I had discovered his nickname was ‘Sexy Simon’, which made me laugh. Any girl who found him sexy was either blind or not right in the head. I was sexy and Simon was nothing compared to me.
Then why isn’t Jamie dancing with you? My conscience questioned.
Because Jamie and I can only be friends, I responded.
Because that’s all Jamie wants to be. My conscience replied.
Fuck off, I told it. I could hear my conscience chuckling within my head, laughing at my immaturity and blindness.
Jamie had her arms waving in the air, and her head was bent low as she swung her head around, causing her hair to go everywhere. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement, and she was laughing. She threw up her head and looked at Simon, then she grabbed his hands and spun herself around and started grinding against him.
I took a deep breath and turned away to get another beer. When I got into the kitchen, I found a group of people taking vodka shots.
“Darren!” Mark yelled, waving me over. I approached and took a shot glass, filled with straight vodka. When everyone had their shot in front of them, Mark counted down. “Three, two, one!” and then I downed it. The alcohol burned as it slid down my throat. I shook my head and pulled a face, laughing at my fellow shot-taker’s faces.
“Another!” I called out. There was much murmuring of agreement, and everyone was being poured another shot.
“Three, two one!”
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