Not Anymore (BoyxBoy)

Asshole

Cameron and I continued to talk. I find that no matter what we're talking about (be it butterflies or that strange cartoon that's dully playing in the background) the topics easily bleed into one another. Cameron is comforting- I've silently decided. He's possibly the only good thing to come out of this entire mess.

Blake emerges from the kitchen and tells Cameron something that I can't hear. They're talking through their pack link. Cameron stands to his full height; standing taller than myself and Blake. Cameron turns around so he's facing me. "I've got to do something, that's not here. See ya, later. Oliver." He waves his goodbye and then he zoom's out the large spruce door.

Blake turns to me, and then he turns towards the television which is now playing an entirely different show. "You like this crap?" he asks, and I wanted to say yes but I didn't. Because truthfully I don't know what I like, I've never watched TV before.  My boredom was never occupied by technology, TV was a privilege I never had. So instead I said nothing.

"Let's put on some good stuff." Blake picked up the remote control and sat on the couch next to me. (uncomfortably close) He loosely held the remote in his left hand and pressed the "5", "8", and "3" buttons with his left thumb; successfully changing the channel. "This show's the best. You can watch a bunch of dumb asses fail at life. It's great." Blake explained.

I nodded, not quite understanding what was so great about watching people getting harmed. "So, Oliver... what are your hobbies?" Blake questioned. My name sounded foreign on his tongue, and he sounded reluctant to use it. Like he would prefer to call me something else.

"Cooking, and gardening I guess." Those were the two things I liked that I was allowed to do. So I considered them a hobby. Not very good ones, considering I was being forced to do them but a hobby none the less.

"That's good..." Blake drew out into an awkward silence, the only noise grunts and laughter from the TV. He cleared his throat and turned back towards the Television.

Just great, I thought bitterly to myself. Not only am I trapped with an asshole but that asshole also happens to be awkward. Couldn't I at least get trapped with a smooth talking asshole? What luck.