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“Where’s Finn?” George slurred as he and Scotty rounded the bottom of the stairs, their big bodies black masses against the blue of the night in the house.
Scotty chuckled. “You got it bad, bro.”
“It’s not like that,” George said.
“Sure it’s not,” Scotty laughed and helped George up the stairs.
“Is he alright?”
“Put him in an Uber myself.”
“No funny business, ya hear me?”
Joq heard a scuffle.
“Fuck’s sake George, I ain’t trying to get on that dick. Jesus.”
Joq listened to them breathing. He wondered if George would remember he had a fucking boyfriend he might assume was up there in that bed.
“Fuck, I’m drunk,” George said after a minute.
“Yep, bed, c’mon.”
“Don’t fucking…” George trailed off, he sounded tired. He sounded serious.
Scotty sighed. “I’m not. I got my own… mess.”
“Good.”
Scotty laughed. “Thanks, buddy.”
They reached the upstairs landing and Joq clicked the TV off. Scotty would take the spare room so Joq would sleep down here. He felt a surge of anger, but then a hysterical laugh bubbled up—pretending he was the buddy crashing downstairs on the couch was the least of his problems right now.
18
“George,” Joq shook his shoulder.
George groaned, buried his face in the pillow. Joq felt a fresh surge of anger.
“George, you need to get Scotty out of here,” he hissed and shook him again.
“Joq?’ George rolled over. He was squinting against the mid-morning sunshine streaming through the open windows.
Who else would it be?
“My parents are coming over for lunch,” Joq couldn’t hide his irritation at George not remembering, at him being hungover as fuck when he knew this lunch was today.
“Cool, yeah,” George rubbed his eyes. “He’ll be gone by then.”
“I need to start cooking now,” Joq hoped George picked up on how stupid Joq currently thought he was.
“Okay,” George groaned, rolled over and buried his face back in the pillow.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna start that and you can explain to Scotty why I’m in your kitchen cooking lunch for my parents,” Joq got up and felt an illicit thrill at the thought of it. It wasn’t the worst idea.
George huffed. The blankets were thrown off dramatically, and he stumbled out of the door ahead of Joq, slamming it shut behind him.
Joq took a deep breath and sat on the bed. The room reeked of alcohol and he hated the thought of George in this state around his parents. It wasn’t worth having an argument about, so he resolved to stew on it silently while he waited. He could hear them in the room down the hall, heard Scotty groan, George laugh, some half-assed insults being tossed around. Joq drummed his fingers on the mattress and tried to settle his anger. He got up once he knew they were downstairs. He could hear George at the door saying something about getting ready for an away game.
