𝟢𝟢𝟤,𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧
"Why don't you bring those pretty legs over here?"
"Bet you got a sweet little secret under that coat, don't ya?"
"Aw, look at her blushing— come on, darling, don't be shy!"
"Don't walk away! We don't bite—unless you're into that."
"You reckon she'd give a shy lad like Newt a chance?"
I'm leaning against the brick wall outside the block, a cigarette dangling between my fingers as I watch my friends toss these comments at some girls crossing the street.
They're laughing, shoving each other, the smoke from their cigarettes twisting up into the chilly morning air.
I bring the cigarette to my lips again, inhaling just to keep myself busy. If I'm being honest, I don't care much for them.
"Look at that one," Mal mutters. He elbows me in the side and nods toward a guy in a hoodie walking past. "Bet he thinks he's tough, doesn't he?"
I know that guy— no idea what his name is, but I've seen him wander around the campus of Windmere, but the town we're currently in—Elmsville—is hours away from college. He must live close.
"I'm headin' out," I announce. "Got stuff to do."
Before I get to walk off, Randy steps in front of me. "Ya think that psychology thing will help you figure out when girls are ready to bang?"
Sighing lightly, I respond, "I'll let you know when I find out."
✧
"You think you're just going to waltz in and take them for the weekend, like I don't have a say in this?"
"You don't get to decide where they go anymore. They're my kids too, and I've got a proper family now!"
"Proper family? Your son—what's he, six years old? You're barely even home, and now you want to play the dad?"
"I'm not some absent father! They'll be with me. End of discussion."
"End of discussion? They're my kids, too! Why aren't you okay with switching every weekend?!"
"Because you are not capable of taking care of 'em! And I don't want Newt and Sonya to move every week— they've got lives, too. They don't want to move their stuff every Friday."
"Come on, Newt's barely home in the weekend anyway; he's at college. And Sonya won't mind!"
"I've got a wife now. Another son. My priorities have changed. They'll be spending the weekend with me."
I'm so tired of hearing this shit. It's the same routine every time.
I lean back against the wall of my room, half-listening to the heated argument from the kitchen. I roll my eyes. Trying to drown them out by scrolling through my phone doesn't really work.
Unknown Number
Heyy want to hang out soon? Or, you know.. 😏
Who are you again
Rae !!
Who
I've got the correct number, right? You're Newt?
Yeah
Remember Monday evening? That's me. I'm Rae.
Alright
So, wanna meet up again?
Yeah, whatever
I put my phone down, sighing once again. Girls like this just need to feel wanted. Want to feel special— yet they let themselves get treated like shit.
Sonya bursts into my room out of nowhere, her phone in her hands. She spins around. Frowns.
"Where did your books go?"
"Below the bed."
"You have a bookshelf that was perfectly fine." She points at the wooden furniture. "Why would you hide them below your bed?"
"Because my friends came over last weekend."
"So...?"
"So? They don't have to know that I read."
"You're awful," she mutters, crouching down in front of me. "If they don't respect your hobbies, drop them!"
"The friends or the hobbies?"
She rolls her eyes. "The friends, duh."
I force a smile, but it's not completely fake. Sonya's the only one I genuinely care about. She knows me— really knows me, and she's closer to me than anyone.
Her phone rings. "Ah, finally," she murmurs, picking it up.
"I think I have a concussion. Two. Is it possible to have two concussions, or does your single concussion just worsen when you hit your head for the second time? Because I fell down the stairs this morning and three seconds ago, I slipped while stepping out of the shower," the voice on the other side immediately announces.
"You idiot. Be careful."
"Gravity's against me today," a loud groan. "Did you know you can actually die laughing?"
"Where did that fact come from?" Sonya crawls beneath my bed and starts inspecting the books.
"That's The Fact Of The Day. I've got a subscription to it."
"You pay money to hear some facts?"
"Yeah, why not? And don't forget to bring me a stamp from Elmsville."
"You already have one."
"But that one's from before I almost died."
Sonya seems to have found the book she needed, and stands back up. "Newt, have you got any stamps left?"
I don't get to respond, because the person on the phone does, "Newt is with you?"
"Yeah. He can hear you."
"Oh."
"Don't worry, he doesn't know who you are."
"That didn't make me feel any better," the boy comments.
"I do know who he is," I start protesting when Sonya gives me a nasty glare. "He's... Gally."
"No, what the hell? This is not Gally, Newt. This is your—"
"—don't say it, Sonya—"
"—roommate," she finishes, ignoring his request. "Remember him? My best friend, since... what, sixth grade? Or are you still a dick?"
"Get me out of his room," the boy commands.
"You're not in it."
"Your phone's in it, isn't it? And I'm speaking to you through your phone, so technically—"
"Shut up, Sander."
Right. That's his name. Sander. I knew that.
"Have you still not talked to him?" Sonya snarls at me. "What's wrong with you?"
People like Sander don't fit in the version of me I've been forcing myself to keep alive. He's too cheerful, too random, too talkative— that's pretty much all I know about his personality, and that's enough. Mal and Randy would beat me up if they ever catch me paying attention to a kid like him. Besides, I've got enough letdowns for a lifetime, no need to add another.
"I don't care," I end up responding.
"You're pathetic." Sonya gets up, the book clenched below her armpit, and her phone in front of her face. She walks off.
I stay planted by the door, staring at the space where Sonya just left. She's been on my case about "the roommate" since the day I moved in, making a big deal out of the fact that I haven't properly talked to him, haven't tried to get to know him, haven't done whatever she thinks I'm supposed to do as some good friend or whatever.
The moment I start giving him attention, people like Mal and Randy are going to notice, and once they start noticing, they'll start digging. They'll take one look at Sander, with his random phone calls and dumb facts, and pull many bad conclusions.
Unknown Number
So what about right now? ❤︎︎
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