A Month To Live

A Month To Live (31)

‘That doesn’t count as a score,’ George complained loudly.

‘It does,’ I replied swiftly. ‘Just because I’m better at football than you are,’ I said with a smirk.

‘Like hell you are,’ he denied with a snort. ‘Paper football yes, but I’d destroy you on the field!’ He paused to consider what he'd just said. 'That didn't come out right.'

‘Neither did that,’ I couldn't help but laugh.

‘How many innuendos are we up to now?’ Bradley asked, rolling his eyes.

I looked down at my scrap of paper. The lines I'd been writing had been abandoned and instead I was keeping tally of our table football scores and the amount of sexual jokes which had somehow been made during the short time.

‘Thirty-two,’ I read. ‘Now thirty-four,’ I added.

'God damnit,' Bradley complained as he looked at the clock. 'We've still got half an hour left.'

We'd actually been rather lucky today. A substitute teacher was supervising us and he really didn't seem to care what we did as long as we were quiet enough. I had the sneaking suspicion that he was hungover as he'd kept his sunglasses on to take a nap.

‘It's okay, we can just keep playing football,' I said.

'I hate paper football,' he complained like a child.

‘Well, there’s nothing else to do in detention, is there?’ I pointed out.

‘Me,’ Bradley and George both said in unison

'Thirty six,' I said, sending them both glares as they laughed at each other.

‘So George,’ I began slowly, abandoning the paper football.

‘I don’t like that tone of voice,’ George said suspiciously.

‘Very wise of you,' Bradley praised him.

‘Shut up,’ I ordered them both. ‘Have you made a real plan about Tara? I mean, clearly making her jealous isn't working out for ya.'

‘It isn't?' he asked.

‘Yeah, and I'm pretty sure she was suspicious of us two at one point,' I said. 'She gave me these looks that weren't too kind.'

‘But that shows jealousy does work,' George replied with a grin.

‘Yeah but you can’t just rely on that, idiot,' I complained. 'Why don't you just go ask her out?'

‘I don’t take rejection well,’ he said with a smile as he picked up the paper football.

‘Wuss,' I snorted. 'Thought you were the king of chicken but here you are backing out.'

'This isn't spin the bottle,' he said, flicking the folded up paper at my head.

'Yeah, it's real life, coward,' I replied, crossing my arms in front of me.

‘I’m not a coward,’ he said firmly, scowling slightly now.

‘Hey, I’m not judging,’ I said, holding my hands up innocently.

I heard Bradley barely holding in a laugh beside me and kicked him under the table so he'd shut up. He glared at me and I gave George a meaningful look.

‘It’s okay if you want her to make the first move,’ Bradley said, rolling his eyes as he understood my hint.

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘It doesn’t take away your masculinity or anything.'