"I'm assuming you're hopeless?" She had a light grin on her face when she spoke, but I snorted.
"Actually", I started as I approached the steps she stood on, "I'm doing fine with my life. I'm Wayne."
Of course it is expected for a person to panic in a catastrophic crisis. Think about it. Imagine yourself on your own island with no hotline, no idea how to call someone thousands and thousands of miles away from you, and you're just stuck on the island all alone. Fun right? Then, a fire starts out of the blue. Then, a volcanic eruption that is followed by the fire. Not so fun now, right?
Monique coming over my house was my volcanic eruption, and my brother Rubin only sparked the volcano to erupt by any chance possible. He didn't mean to sound so obvious about his knowing that Monique and I had kissed-- but it was so obvious. Fortunately, Monique didn't say a word whatsoever. Rubin, however, was the worst.
He would walk in, ask us if we needed some refreshments and actually request a reservation for "two" when asking if we would like some "delicacies".
I remember Monique nodding and saying nothing more but a "thank you" after he entered the room and before he left the room. It was so obvious of his intentions, and I had to glare at him a couple times to get through the message that he was being an impossible asshole. Yet again, it didn't matter since he kept popping up, asking if Monique and I wanted some "alone time" for "special purposes". Right there is when I gave up.
I literally excused myself from the room and rushed downstairs to the basement, lying that I had to use the restroom and that it was an "emergency" just to get them both off my back. To be honest, I felt terrible lying to Monique just to get out of the room. I mean, for the love of God, I have been dreaming for the day that she would actually sit in my house with me-- but I didn't imagine my family being anywhere in the picture whatsoever. So, thank God for friends when you really need them.
I went into the bathroom and closed the door in order to call Cole. I would have called Parker, but I personally believe that Cole has some type of power that will ease the mood much better than Parker. It's too bias to say that mostly gays are the best problem solvers in the world of socialism, but I would sound hypocritical if I said gays weren't also the best choice to go to for instant help in an issue. I mean, both statements tend to flip-flop in different situations, but in this case, I was sticking with Cole over Parker. It's not every day the girl you've liked for years finally comes over because her idiot of a 'so-called' boyfriend decides to be a douche and belittle her.
So, why not call Cole?
The phone rung once. No response. Twice? Nothing. Third time? Noth---.
"Hey, Wayne", Cole's bubbly voice responded, "what's up baby-boy?"
I sighed at the nickname Cole said into the phone from the other line. It burned in my chest whenever Cole would call me 'baby-boy'. He would only call me that name over the phone because he probably knew how much the name irked my soul. I could hear him chuckling on the other line and I groaned.
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"Come on, Cole", I huffed, "I seriously need you right now. ASAP."
He sighed, but I could tell that he was still smirking as he spoke. "How bad is the situation?"
