The Player Game

Chapter 19

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“Rain sucks balls,” Micky grumbles, staring forlornly at the pouring rain outside.

The water hammers at the window in a melancholy rhythm, condensation trickling down the glass as the heat indoors contradicts the weather outdoors.  I glance futilely towards the window only to see Micky in the same position as he has been for the last ten minutes; he’s kneeling on the windowsill with his forehead pressed against the cool glass and eyes searching the flood for any sign of life.

Turning away from his miserable appearance, I flick through the channels again pointlessly, the screen flickering between dull presenters to black and white movies and back to dull presenters again.

“You’re telling me,” I mumble, exhaling loudly and glancing at the clock on the wall.  It’s 7:06pm on a Friday night, yet life has never been so boring.  What happened to the ‘its Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday,’ motto?

I suppose I have an excuse to be so lazy.  After all, being dragged from the spa to the hairdressers to the manicure and pedicure parlour and then all the way back to the spa again, is bound to leave me a bit tired.  In fact, tired is an understatement; better adjectives would be bedraggled, exhausted, or haggard- maybe all three.  Verity, as I very quickly found out, is one of those people who has to have things absolutely perfect.  One hair out of place and the scissors are already plucked out of thin air and snipping away until everything looks immaculate again.

“Right!” I exclaim, leaping from the sofa and placing my hands on my hips.  “I’m tired of lazing around.  Get your butt off that windowsill and invite some people over for a mini-party or something, because if I don’t do anything soon, I am actually going to explode,” I fume, glaring as Micky scrambles to get up, noting the serious tone in my voice.  “Thank you,” I grumble as he whips out his phone, punching in some numbers and calling around several people.

It seems that no one else has a social life as every person that he rings turns up on the doorstep in the next ten minutes.  Verity arrives first, Harry trailing behind her with his arms full of bottles of vodka and beer, followed quickly by Jerry.  Aaron turns up shortly after, barging through the door and calling after him for Adriano to quickly carry in a few bottles of alcohol.  I resist the urge to slam the door in Adriano’s perfect face as he steps onto the threshold like he owns the place, shooting me a smug smirk.

I can't help but notice the absence of Brad, yet don't question it as everyone files in.  I'm sure there's a reason why he can't make it, and I can wait for a few days until asking him about his sudden interesting in wearing hoodies and smoking on the corner of streets.

 “I’ll fetch some drinks from the fridge,” I tell no one in particular, making my way into the kitchen and pulling out a dozen cans of beer.  I juggle them in my hands, kicking the fridge door shut behind me and following the sound of chatter into the games room.

I find everyone sat in a tight circle in the middle of the room, already breaking into the stack of alcohol.  I add the beers to the pile before plopping myself down on Aaron’s lap and leaning up to give him a small peck on the lips.  He responds almost immediately, attempting to slip his tongue into my mouth, but I pull away before he can get any further.