He Who Moved the Sun

Chapter Three: The Stud Bet

Chapter three

Nick’s house hadn’t change very much since the last time J.R had seen it. It had always been perfectly neat, as if his mother had spent every day of the week cleaning it. J.R’s house was the complete opposite. His mother hadn’t cleaned in months. The place was a complete wreck.

“Anybody home?” He shouted and heard a few shouts coming from the basement in reply.

He thudded down the stairs to the bonus room, like he had a million other times, following the familiar voices of his friends who were laughing and cutting up like old times. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the guys.

“Party’s here!” He shouted, proud that his Snookie impression was still spot on.

The guys cheered and began to throw chips at him. “We’re going to Jersey Shore bitch!” Nick shouted, jumping up on the couch and lifting his shirt to flex for them, situation style.

J.R snickered and joined Nick on the couch. “Put down your shirt man, you’re only embarrassing yourself.”

Nick pretended to look hurt. “You can really make a guy feel insecure.”

J.R patted him on the back, “Sorry buddy, I forgot about your body image issues.”

The two other guys, Ricky Anthony and Mike Ferrell, sat below the couch with game controllers, right in the middle of shooting down a few enemy soldiers behind a burning building.

“It’s been awhile Milligan,” Ricky said, pausing COD and laying his controller aside. “How’re things?”

J.R looked at the floor with a half smile, knowing where this was heading. “Things are things.”

Mike looked up at J.R with a sad expression. “I know stuff has been tough and all.”

J.R began to feel uncomfortable, as he always did when people treated him like that. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, trying to be nonchalant.

“Well you know,” he said dully, “Stuff's are looking up.”

“How are your sisters?” Ricky asked.

“They’re good, Audrey’s in 6th grade now. I’m gonna have to beat the boys off with a stick,” J.R said, trying to make small talk.

There was an awkward silence. “So,” Nick said suddenly, looking extremely uncomfortable. “I met this super hot girl at the beach a few weeks ago.” He grinned and held up his phone with pride. “Got her digits and everything. Not that I’m going to ever call her…”

Leave it to Nick to change the subject when things were heading down the wrong road. J.R felt like pulling his friend in a bear hug and kissing the top of his red head.

“What would you rate her?” Ricky asked and leaned back against the wall, tapping his food impatiently.

“I’d say an eight,” Nick replied, smiling back at Ricky smugly.  

Mike chuckled and threw a chip at Nick, “Yeah right, I bet this chick doesn’t even exist.”

Nick sat up, throwing the chip to the side and holding up his phone defensively, glowering at Mike. “I have a picture if you need proof Ferrell.”

Ricky held out his hand and licked his lips. “Let’s see her then.”

Nick opened up to his pictures and handed them the phone happily, a smirk on his face. “Feast your eyes boys.”

Ricky and Mike stared down at the phone in shock, mouths wide open, equally pleased. “Woah!” They said in unison.

Ricky punched Nick on the arm with a wide smile. “You are one lucky son of a bitch.”