I toss my head back against the chair and drag my hands down my face. This is why I don't get involved with girls. Drama. I didn't fucking kick her out. I told her to leave and then she runs off and cries onKyan'sfucking shoulder. Dear fucking god. I can't deal with it. I tilt my beer back and down half of itand then I think about theguy Isawher with yesterday. "She'sseeingsomebodyanyway."
"What? Who?"
"I don't know.I just saw her with someone yesterday."
"And...I was with her thedaybefore. Doesn't mean she's seeing some bloke."
I stare at the screenwatchingO'Brein'sfist pound intotheotherguy's cheekagain andagain.
"It'sokay tolike her."
"We'rejust friends."
"Yeah,"Kyanlaughs. "That's exactly what it looked likethe other night at thetittybar.You werewatchingher more thanyou werethat SJ girl with the massive tits."Idon'tlook away fromtheTV.Justkeep watching and sipping onmy beer.O'Breinbeats theshitout of theotherguy.I pop another beer. "Want to godownto the pub?"Kyanasks. "There'sthis blonde girl with legs for days I'm trying to cop onto."Hegrins. "You'd be a great wing man."
"I'm just going to go home. It's late."
"Late? What the fuck is wrong with you? It's not even gone 10 yet you old fart." Shaking his head, he stands up and heads down the hall. "I'm taking a piss and then we're going. It'll do you good to get out."
* * *
Three hourslater andKyan'sfound the blondeandI'mpretty surehe'sfuckingher in thetoilets.I'm paying our tabwhen hecomes struttingout,zippinghis fly.
I take the receipt fromthe bartenderandshake myhead on a laugh."Did you really just fuck her in thebathroom?"
"Nah," he swipes his beer from the counter and downs it in one gulp. "Shejustgave me ablowie. She'stooclassy tobebending over the toilet."
"But nottooclassyto get onherknees ina puddleof piss?"
Kyansmirks."Youdohave a senseof humourafter all,don't you?"He winks as he heads toward the door. "Come on, mate."
I follow him out in a beer haze.Kyancat calls ata little brunettestanding by the corner. She turns around, dragging her eyes over him before she leans through the window of the car stoppednextto thecurb, engine running."Nice arse,treacle," he shouts, stumbling intoa garbagebin.
"Fuck'ssake,Kyan. That's ahooker."
"Well,"Kyansnorts,"Iain'tneverseen a hooker with an arse like that."
"Jesus."I grab ontohis arm and yank himtotheother side of thewalkway."Comeon."
"Iknow,” he slurs, “let's go seeHope."
"No."
"Yes."
"Why?"I groan.
"She'spretty."
"I'm not going to see fucking Hope."To be honest, Idowant to see her, which is all the more reason for me to go the fuck home.
"Andbesides. She lives right up there." He points to a set of red brick flats, squinting an eye. "Ah, look. Hope!" he shouts. "Treacle!"
"Shutup, would you?" I shove him.
"Well, she's outside on her balcony.Hope, it's me and..." he laughs, "him—thefuckface."
"Fuckface?"
