Yes, I'd Fancy Your Company But You Know I'm Rubbish

Ced had arrived yesterday at my house, and today he even offered to cook dinner.
I was starting to like this thing.

“Hey,” Ced said coming into the living room, “I went shopping for food.”

“Food? I already have food in the kitchen,” I said following him into the kitchen.

“Yeah, but you don’t have good food,” he replied with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

I entered the bathroom and locked the door. You never know, with a guy in the house, I had to be careful. I turned on the hot water and let the smooth warmth wash over me. I closed my eyes and imagined that I was still on that same island I had in the nightmare, but this time I was walking hand in hand with some guy. I could have mistaken him for Ced, but his eyes were a different colour; they were hazel. His skin was a bit more tanned but that guy still looked a lot like Ced. I reopened my eyes and realized that I had been in the shower for almost an hour. I got out of the shower and entered my room, finding Ced lying on my bed looking at some old piano scores.

“I didn’t know you played the piano,” he said looking up from the piano scores.

“Umm, I have nothing else under this towel,” I pointed out, “so could you please, get out of my room?”

“When did you stop playing?” He continued.

“Ced,” I said.

He didn’t look up.

“Ced!” He finally looked up, “Get the fuck out of my room.”

Then his eyes widened, and he realized what I was wearing, “Oh! I’m sorry mate! I’ll be watching t.v. when you’re done.”

It was already 8 p.m., so I decided to wear my pajamas. I got dressed and joined Ced on the couch.

“So, when did you stop playing the piano?” Ced finally asked not even bothering to look away from the t.v.

“Uh, about four months ago,” I said getting some of the ‘good’ food from my kitchen.

“Will you play for me?” He asked.

“I don’t have a piano, sorry.”

I came back into the living room with a bag of chips and a soda.

“Why’d you stop?” He asked while taking a sip at my soda.

“None of your business,” I replied defensively.

“Okay, okay.”

“What about you?” I asked looking away.

“Me? I don’t play an instrument,” he said.

“No, I mean what did Leslie say to you on the phone?”

He fell silent for a few minutes. He thought about it for a long while. The clock’s ticking grew louder and louder, and the noise from the tv lowered and lowered.

Finally, after an eternity, he said “When did I talk to Leslie on the phone?”

“What?!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, when did I talk to Leslie on the phone?” He asked as he scratched his head, confused.

Man, he was a good liar. I was sure that he’d gotten a phone call from her a few days ago.

“Oh, well. I must have dreamed it then,” I mumbled.

I could have sworn I’d seen the caller i.d.

“Hey, anyways, do you want to go to the cinema after work tomorrow?” He asked changing the subject.

Ha,ha! Now I was sure that he was hiding something.

“Or, how about we go play rugby at the park,” I said jokingly.

He didn’t get the joke tough.

Oh, no he didn’t.

In fact, his face lit up and he exclaimed, “That’s a brilliant idea! I was the best rugby player out of all my mates back there! I am going to kick your pessimistic American arse!”

And I swear he wouldn’t shut up for the rest of the night. He just kept on rambling on and on about how we were going to have ‘so much fun’. He sounded like some six year old girl who was told that she was going to have a pony.

“I never said I agreed!” I protested.

“Yeah, well you don’t have much choice. This is a tyranny, and I’m the tyrant so I decide,” he said. He was saying this as he went, it was so obvious.

“Well,” I said getting up, “I don’t do rugby.”

“You don’t do rugby?” He asked with a smirk, “What do you do then?”

“I occasionally swim,” I stated proudly.

“Pfffffff! That’s bollocks. You and I are going to play rugby tomorrow. Period.”