Player Three (Boyf Riends)

10

A/N: I'm going to be updating Player Three every Sunday (probably at night) so stay tuned!

Jeremy●°▪

"You're losing your touch, man," Michael chuckled.

"Shut up, sore loser," I fired back.

"Nerd."

"Idiot."

"Stupid head."

"Stupid head?" I mocked him.  "Is that the best you've got?"

He glared at me, taking his eyes off the screen for a split second, giving an approaching zombie just enough time to catch him off guard.  "Game Over" flashed across the screen in bold letters.

"I win," I declared.

Michael rolled his eyes.  "We're on a team, Jer.  The zombies ate our brains."

"But they ate your brain first," I argued.  "And I killed more of them than you did," I added, trying to prove myself.  Immediately after it left my mouth, I realized how much I sounded like a show off.

Michael just shrugged and laughed it off.

That's the thing about us.  We can go from sensitive to borderline bullying in a matter of minutes.  I'm not sure if that's how friendship should be, but I like it.

We started the game over and got slightly further this time.  As I battled one of our opponents, another zombie crept up behind me and latched onto me.  Once again, the fateful letters flashed across the screen, provoking a groan from us losers.

Michael looked smug as he quoted me, "But they ate your brain first."

"Shut up," I nudged him.

He nudged me back playfully.

A thud and a crash sounded from upstairs.

"Aren't you worried about the mess?'

I tried to shrug nonchalantly.  "Not if I have the world's most amazing best friend to help me clean up."

Michael considered.  "Free slushies  for three months."

"Mikey!" I exclaimed.

"Two?"

I shook my head.

"Two weeks?"

"Fine," I compromised.

"It's a deal."

We shook hands.  His hand was so warm.  After a moment, he quickly let go.

"Dude, you're weird," Michael shook his head with a smile.

"Huh?" I responded intelligently.

"You're not attending your own party that you hosted in your house."

I shrugged.  "No one notices when I'm gone.  I doubt most of them even know who I am."  It was true.  I was invisible in their eyes.  They came for the booze and food and to make out in the corner.

"Plus, I'd rather hang out with you and Apocalypse of the Damned," I added.

Michael blushed.  "You really mean that?"

"Of course I-" I was interrupted by an impatient pounding at the basement door.  I turned the game off and Michael flicked the light switch, immersing the room in darkness.

The moonlight coming in from the window illuminated Michael's face.  We shared a knowing glance.  Squip.

I grabbed Michael's arm and pulled him underneath an ancient, dusty pool table at the rear of the basement.  My fingers dug into his skin as my whole body pulsed with fear.  I don't know why I was so scared of him but I couldn't face him at the moment.  The darkness flowed around me like waves as we waited.