Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here
Poor Women
Alex
"Jack?" I call, stepping into my house. I shove my jacket on the stairs, humming 'Dear Maria' as I wander into my house with the usual stroll. "Dude, are you still here? The beer better..." I sigh, seeing him on the floor, balancing a bottle on his nose.
"Hey man! I missed you." He winks, taking the bottle off. "And yeah, I picked up the beer... but you might not want to walk over there," he points randomly behind him. "There might be a piece or two. I dunno..."
I roll my eyes. "Okay, where'd you get the crap? The sugar?" I add so it's more clear.
"I found your staaaaaa-aaaaash!" He sings.
"You're effing me!" I gasp, and jog to my kitchen. "Not that, c'mon Jack!" I whine, looking through the small cupboard. "I was saving it all for a special occasion!"
He snorts, coming over. "You're kidding me! The expiration dates were like, last year!"
"Then why did you eat it?" I give him a look.
"Cause I was hungry," he says defensively.
"You have your own house."
"Yeah... but this has X-box! And your candy! It's more fun that way."
"Whatever," I huff, rolling my eyes.
"By the way," he adds nonchalantly, grabbing some of my Doritos. "The band's coming over."
"When?" I sigh.
"Like.... a few minutes? Ooooo, you should invite your wife!!!" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"I liked you more last night... you know, no sugar?" I hint.
He shrugs, tossing more chips in his mouth so it's full. "And Zacky-poo's bringing a girl."
"Adorable," I roll my eyes. "Who? Someone he met last night?"
"Yeah, he came by the bar like us last night. Duh," he smirks. "Not like they last much longer."
I chuckle. "Never do, poor Zack."
"More like poor women," he corrects.
I grin and we keep making fun of our band mate. He gets out the popcorn for when everyone arrives, and we continually mock Zack without him here. Finally, the doorbell rings. We smirk, racing to the door to tease him.
My mouth opens to mock Zack with this little blonde next to him, but then I notice who's behind them, looking shocked herself, so my jaw is left hanging.
"Jack?" I call, stepping into my house. I shove my jacket on the stairs, humming 'Dear Maria' as I wander into my house with the usual stroll. "Dude, are you still here? The beer better..." I sigh, seeing him on the floor, balancing a bottle on his nose.
"Hey man! I missed you." He winks, taking the bottle off. "And yeah, I picked up the beer... but you might not want to walk over there," he points randomly behind him. "There might be a piece or two. I dunno..."
I roll my eyes. "Okay, where'd you get the crap? The sugar?" I add so it's more clear.
"I found your staaaaaa-aaaaash!" He sings.
"You're effing me!" I gasp, and jog to my kitchen. "Not that, c'mon Jack!" I whine, looking through the small cupboard. "I was saving it all for a special occasion!"
He snorts, coming over. "You're kidding me! The expiration dates were like, last year!"
"Then why did you eat it?" I give him a look.
"Cause I was hungry," he says defensively.
"You have your own house."
"Yeah... but this has X-box! And your candy! It's more fun that way."
"Whatever," I huff, rolling my eyes.
"By the way," he adds nonchalantly, grabbing some of my Doritos. "The band's coming over."
"When?" I sigh.
"Like.... a few minutes? Ooooo, you should invite your wife!!!" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"I liked you more last night... you know, no sugar?" I hint.
He shrugs, tossing more chips in his mouth so it's full. "And Zacky-poo's bringing a girl."
"Adorable," I roll my eyes. "Who? Someone he met last night?"
"Yeah, he came by the bar like us last night. Duh," he smirks. "Not like they last much longer."
I chuckle. "Never do, poor Zack."
"More like poor women," he corrects.
I grin and we keep making fun of our band mate. He gets out the popcorn for when everyone arrives, and we continually mock Zack without him here. Finally, the doorbell rings. We smirk, racing to the door to tease him.
My mouth opens to mock Zack with this little blonde next to him, but then I notice who's behind them, looking shocked herself, so my jaw is left hanging.