Blue Skin: Book One

Chapter 4

4

“Get away from the wall, Sean,” Ryan shouts from the desk. “I’m getting my arse handed to me.”

My head is pressed tight against my bedroom wall, trying to block out the sounds of Call Of Duty, desperate to hear the argument exploding next door.

“Can you turn the volume down on that?” I ask. “I can barely hear a thing.”

“Who gives a s**t about a stupid fight next door?” he asks with an impatient groan. “You’re too nosey.”

I move my head away from the wall, launching him a pissed-off look. “No, I’m not. I’m just a concerned neighbour, that’s all.”

Ryan lets out a loud fake laugh, his attention still locked on the computer screen. “Yeah, right. You just want to be a sympathetic shoulder to cry on for your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, I know. I was joking. You’ll never get a sniff of those tits.”

“Shut up! It’s not like that. She’s going through a lot at home, so there’s nothing wrong with her having someone to talk to.”

Annoyed, Ryan pauses the video-game, and then rotates the chair to face me. “Sean, she doesn’t give a s**t about you. She’s just a self-centred, stuck-up user. She’ll spit you to the curb the moment her boyfriend is in the vicinity.” He un-pauses the game and returns to the screen. “Plus, he’s nineteen years old. And built like a brick s**t-house. So, good luck with that, ‘cause you’re on your own there, mate.”

Ignoring him, I put my ear to the wall again.

Suddenly the doorbell rings. I move over to the window and look down at the front of the house. “She’s here,” I announce with a little panic in my tone, scanning the dirty socks, underwear and used tissues strewn across the brown carpet.

“Who, Freya?”

“Yeah,” I reply, kicking some of the mess under my bed.

Ryan shakes his head and grins with smugness. “See? What did I tell you? A user. And a c**k-tease.”

I ignore his comment and bolt downstairs. Freya is standing in the hallway with Mum and Dad. Even though she’s beaming, I can tell by her puffy, emerald eyes that she’s been crying. She pushes a strand of silky, blonde hair away from her face, and then dabs her eyes, smudging the mascara a little.

“You hungry, Freya?” Dad asks her, ignoring her obvious distress. “We’re just about to eat.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asks, wiping another tear from her eye.

“Don’t be silly, love,” Mum says, putting her arm around her shoulder. “You’re always welcome.”

“Thanks, Sue.” Freya spots me standing at the foot of the stairs and throws me a subtle wave.

Even if by miracle Ryan is right and she is a c**k-tease, and a user—when else am I ever going to get someone this beautiful into my house?

“We’re having steak and ale pie,” I say, as if I was the one who slaved in the kitchen making it. “How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Mum hooks Freya’s arm and guides her away. “You can help me with the veg, love.”

I sneak a glimpse of Freya’s pert arse as she disappears into the kitchen.

Dad catches me, but doesn’t say anything, just smirks.

“I’ll meet you in just a second,” I call out as I dart back upstairs.

I think it’s time Ryan went home.