The More Boys I Meet

“You really weren’t kidding, were you?” Viktor asked, sipping coffee in our kitchen.

“I’m pretty sure you own a house of your own. In fact, you’re down a roomie. You should be celebrating at your own house. So why are you here all the time?” I snapped at the Swede.

It was about a week into June and I was holding up my end of my own bargain: to start running. At night where no one could see me helplessly fail.

“Is she going alone?” Viktor turned to Pat was sitting up on the counter, eating the chocolate chip cookies I baked that afternoon.

He snickered. “No. I volunteered her a trainer for the first week and then we all have to pick the short straw.”

“Thanks guys,” I pulled my hair up into a pony tail. “Real supportive you all are.”

“It’s only because we love you,” Viktor raised his mug.

The door flew open and in came Corey Crawford, looking none too happy. “What is going on?”

“Is he my running partner?” I asked. “I’ll take a goalie. He can’t run either, can he?”

He looked generally appalled. “I can too run, thank you very much. Tazer comes busting into my home, taking my entire third season of Supernatural!”

My eyes widened. “You,” I pointed. “You do have season three of Supernatural, you liar!”

“Oh I get it now,” he sighed.

“I will exact my revenge on you goalie man,” I looked at him. “Oh I will. It may not be tonight, but it will most definitely be after I watch that third season of Supernatural!”

Johnny walked in, holding the box. “Let’s go Ells. You can have Corey’s third season right after we run.”

“Um no. He’s going to take it back,” I stood my ground.

“I’ll make sure he lets you watch it.”

“Uh huh. . .” I was still skeptical.

“There are what? Twentyish episodes in the third season? An episode for every night you run.”

“I hate you,” I said, grabbing a bottle of water. “Let’s go.”

~~~~~

I could barely make it to the door. I couldn’t feel my feet. Or my lungs. Did I still have legs?

I fell into the door.

“Ells?” Pat opened it and I just kind of slumped in. “Ells! Jesus what happened?! We were getting worried! It’s been two and a half hours! Tazer said an hour at the most!”

“Never again,” I gasped.

“Oh it wasn’t that bad,” Johnny walked in, barely winded.

“I’m so fat and out of shape!”

Pat looked at his best friend. “I said take it easy on her. Like a mile kind of easy.”

“Four miles isn’t so bad.”

I threw the box at Corey. “I don’t want it! You can have it! Just don’t make me run with him EVER again. I don’t need Supernatural! I don’t need life!” I managed to stand up, despite the pain. I made it to the kitchen and gulped down some more water and sighed. “I lied,” I said, walking past Corey, snatching back the DVD box from him. “You’ll get it back by the end of the summer. Johnny you’re fired. Pat, we’re getting in shape together,” I told him. “You’re looking a little chubs over there.”

He looked at me, appalled. “I don’t get chubby.”

“Well that’s all I can see. Eight o’clock tomorrow? Great. See you tomorrow. Johnny, don’t come back for a while. I might beat you up.”

“Aw come Ells! I can be a better trainer!”

“No. Good effort though. I’m going to bed.”

“Oh!” Viktor snapped his fingers. “By the way, the kid fell asleep so we threw him in your bed. He seems to like it there. He’s like a puppy. Snuggled right up and started snoring.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, throwing open my bedroom door. I actually changed in the dark and collapsed on my bed. Low and behold, Viktor wasn’t kidding.

“Mmhp,” Marcus said from underneath me.

“You call me fat, I’ll break your neck,” I said.

“I was sleeping peacefully.”

“In my bed,” I reminded him, irritated.

“Eh,” was all he said. “Technicalities.”

“Get out.”

“I thought we were good bed time buddies. Don’t ruin it all now,” he tried.

“I just ran four miles with Johnny. Don’t test me Marcus Kruger.”

“That’s why you smell.”

I shoved him off the bed. “My bed, my smell. Go sleep somewhere else.”

“No I’m sorry! You smell like a field of beautiful smelling roses! Let me back up on the bed!” he pleaded.

“No,” I said stubbornly, spreading out so I was taking up the entire bed. “You suck. You said I smell, you go home and sleep.”

“No!” he whined. “Viktor practically has a different girl every night!”

“He’s here!”

“She’s still at our house!” he yelled. “She won’t leave and therefore I can’t leave!”

“Well sucks to be you.”

“No, no it doesn’t. Cause I’m sleeping here,” he said, moving me over.

“No!” I tried to move him, but he wouldn’t budge. “I will kill you.”

“I’d like to see you move more than your arms at this point.”

“I can’t,” I admitted.

“I thought so. So shut your mouth and go to sleep.”

“I can’t!” I whined that time.

“Why not?”

“My socks are still on.”

He sighed. “If I take off your socks, will you be quiet?” he asked, trying to bargain with me.

“Yes.”

He went under the covers to my feet and as soon as his head disappeared, I mustered up all of my strength and pushed him off the bed.

“You’re a bitch,” he said simply.

“Blame your Captain. He made me very cranky.”

“I’ll take you running from now on,” he volunteered.

“No. I quit.”

“You can’t. I have the Supernatural DVD.”

“I HATE THIS HOUSEHOLD AND EVERYONE IN IT!” I shouted.

“Good night Ells,” I could hear the smile.

I threw a pillow and a blanket at him. “Good night Marcus,” I said, agitated and fell asleep, not caring that he was on the ground. Damn hockey players. The more I met, the more crazy I became.