chapter eight - poles

*DOUBLE UPDATE* READ chapter seven - human burrito BEFORE THIS CHAPTER IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY.

chapter eight — poles

SCHOOL WAS FINALLY FUCKING OVER. The end of June was supposed to be a happy time since school had let out, but it was tragically shitty. It had been raining nonstop all week, the sky lovingly deciding to dump water on us without mercy. All week, I'd been driving the other guys crazy by dribbling in the house, using furniture to set up a fake defense I could practice around since I couldn't get outside. My Mum was used to it by now, so she just put post-its on the stuff she didn't want me moving, like the vase Gran had given her when she left Ireland. It was fucking ugly and cheap, a vomit green shade with pointless designs all over it, but Mum put it on the mantel like it held the shit of Jesus Christ himself.

"Man, stop balling for one fucking second and help me roll this joint, Kieran" Marco bit out, frustrated.

I sighed, tucking the ball under my arm before shoving Marco off the couch and returning his weed to the Ziploc baggie he'd brought it in.

"What the hell bro?"

"No smoking in my house, gives my Mum a headache" I shoved the bag at him, knuckles biting into his chest before dropping it into his lap. DJ hummed thoughtfully, grabbing the bag from Marco so he could stuff it into his backpack. Marco went crazy with it sometimes and I didn't really want to get high off secondhand pot fumes.

"You're just salty 'cause you're a virgin" Marco hissed, clearly already more gone than not. He held his fingers up to his forehead in the shape of an L, tongue wagging out childishly.

"I'm definitely not" I snorted, grabbing the trash off the couch so there was room to stretch out. Lukas was pretty conservative when it came to taking up room, but the left cushion of the couch was his spot. I wanted to make it as nice as possible for him. He didn't really get to sit down at his job — both of them.

The doorbell rang from upstairs and I scowled, pulling myself up the basement stairs so I could get the door. There was only one person polite enough to ring the fucking doorbell when the door was wide open and they had a clear invitation to enter. What a fucking cunt.

"Roger, you fucking walnut-sized balls chopstick-kinked motherfucker, don't fucking ring the doorbell"

Roger blinked slowly, before brushing past me.

"I'll do what I want you astroturd midget" He smiled coyly, pack of Oreos in hand as he jogged down the steps. Motherfucker bought snacks with him even though I specified he shouldn't bring anything.

I'm not a midget. What a dickass.

I smiled ruefully to myself, getting ready to close the door when I saw a random car pull into my driveway. I stepped outside, shutting the door behind me and crossing my arms across my chest. The pizza boy popped out of the car, retrieving the boxes from the backseat with surprising skill. His hair was that ugly failed-bleach orange shade, hues of green interwoven in the stringy locks, a rainbow pattern circling the rim of the sole of his Converse high tops.

"Oh," I shuffled my feet, pushing the door shut behind me as he jogged up the steps.

"Hey"

He raised an eyebrow, balancing all three boxes as he dug around in his pocket for a pen. I shoved some minimal tip in cash at him, and he hastily shoved it into his pocket. I'd paid for the pizza online with a card half an hour ago, so I didn't owe him anything.

"Sign here, please" He ignored me, and I grabbed the pen, not taking the boxes from him.

"Maxwell, right?"

"Michael"

Fuck.

Michael looked at me, thoroughly unimpressed. His eyes were an uncanny shade of green that reminded me of Mountain Dew. They were too bright to be natural and I guess that, like his hair and most of his clothes, Michael had done something to change the color of his irises. Fake contacts probably. They suited him in a weird, mutant-aesthetic way I didn't really appreciate.

"Okay"

He pushed the boxes out at me and I left my hands at my sides, refusing to take them from him just yet. I wanted to talk to him. About what?

Lukas.

"Listen, I have a lot of deliveries to do Kieran. Could we postpone this little game or whatever, please? Raincheck, alright? It's a date" Michael smiled teasingly, dimples popping out. They weren't shallow like Roger's, but so deep you could poke them and lose your fingertips.

"How are you friends with Lukas?"

I didn't bother beating around the bush, crossing my arms across my chest and leaning against my door. Michael's arms looked like they were straining under the weight of all the shit we'd ordered, and I briefly wondered why he didn't just set all of it down on the porch and hightail it out of here.

He's not the type to run.

"We just have a lot in common," Michael answered ambiguously, eyes narrowing in suspicion, "Why?"

I shook my head slowly, calling bullshit.

"Lukas doesn't hang out with people like you"

Michael's dimples flattened out almost immediately, his jaw ticking anxiously. He could put up a front all he liked, but I could always read through it. People couldn't lie to me: I knew their ticks. It helped me in basketball more times than I could count.

I got it from my father, and he got it from poker.

"People like me? Kieran, I don't have time for this—"

"—You know what I mean." I cut him off, finally grabbing the pizza boxes from him. His arms fell to his sides limply and I caught the look of relief that flooded his features. I half-expected him to leave then and there, but instead, he mocked what I'd done before, arms crossing across his chest.

He doesn't run.

"I don't owe you anything"

"I know"

There was a brief lapse of silence between us, the only sound the high-pitched scream of Marco from somewhere inside the house. Michael's lips twitched into a small smile, mirroring my own, but I dropped it just as fast.

"Hey, sorry I'm late—oh"

We both turned to the driveway, a very confused Lukas ambling up the walkway with a box of cupcakes. He still had flour on his shirt from the bakery where he was working today, a little bit dusting his forearms as they flexed under the weight of the box. Even though the sky was filled with clouds, his hair shone as if the sun itself radiated from his skull.

"Hey, everyone's inside," I pushed the door open with my leg, holding it for him as he slowly made his way up the porch steps. He nodded at me, eyes flitting over to Michael. Michael smiled at Lukas, a small, shy smile I hadn't seen on him yet. Lukas' lips quirked up into his own crooked smile, and I felt mine turn down at the exchange.

People like Lukas and Michael didn't just naturally become friends. It wasn't normal. Something's up.

"Hey, Lukas"

"Hey, Michael, what's up?"

Lukas paused halfway between Michael and me, his back to me. I let the door close slowly, realizing that Lukas wouldn't brush off Michael's presence like I thought he would.

"The sky" How terribly fucking clever.

Michael must have sensed my annoyance since he shot me a look around Lukas. It wasn't hostile in the least, more apologetic if anything, but I responded with a flat stare. My mouth was starting to permanently scowl around Michael and his rainbow shoes, and it hurt.

"I have to go, nice seeing you both!" Michael waved at us, looking the slightest bit guilty. Why?

He jogged back over to his car, pulling out of my driveway with all the caution in the world, blinker on and eyes on the rearview.

"I brought cupcakes"

Lukas waved the box in front of my face, distracting me from Michael's worn bumper. It was bright pink and smelled like heaven, some of the icing visibly smudged against the plastic top. Lukas reached around me, propping the door open with his arm as I scuttled inside.

"All chocolate?" I set the pizza boxes down on the kitchen table, scanning the box of cupcakes as Lukas set them down next to the boxes of pizza.

"Of course"

"Fuck, yeah"

Lukas laughed, reaching over me for some napkins as we started to open the boxes.

"Is it bad that I get chocolate even though literally only you like it?"

I grinned, looking up at him with a smirk.

"Nah, my house, my cupcakes"

"True," He put his finger to his mouth, licking off the little bit of icing that had ended up on his thumb.

"True"

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"Man, Kieran, this playlist is sh—"

"—It's my Mum's playlist—"

"—ockingly introspective! Your Mom's music taste is refined and exotic," Roger coughed, pausing mid-stride. I smirked over at him, knowing full well he'd just been about to change the song.

I hadn't completely lied to him. This playlist was my mother's, but Lukas and I had made it for her birthday last year. She didn't understand most of the rap verses, so she liked it more than she should've. It was endearing when she'd blast the explicit lyrics on her way to work, but I made sure to duck my head whenever we stopped at a red light when we were out together. One of my favorite memories was Mum jamming out to some 50 Cent at a stoplight, the car next to ours rolling their window down to sing along. Mum didn't know the words but tried joining them regardless. If she ever figured out what exactly 50 Cent's lollipop was, she'd probably have a heart attack.

"Ay, DJ, pass your homeslice a slice, please," Marco cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, "Peppero—you know me so well," Marco grinned cheesily.

DJ rolled his eyes, handing Marco the entire box of pepperoni before he could finish his sentence. Marco lazily blew him a kiss, pushing aside his plate in favor of the leftover pizza. DJ shoved him lightly before getting up and plopping down next to the rest of us. Lukas and Roger were almost completely immersed in the movie that was playing: Rush Hour. It was a cult classic.

"Why does Marco do shit like that?" I scooched over, nodding at Lukas when he looked at me curiously. DJ slid into the empty space with a shrug. His eyes followed Marco's assault of the pizza with tired interest, like it was a sight he'd long been used to, but didn't mind in the least.

"What? Oh, the kiss thing?" DJ blinked, confused.

I nodded uncomfortably, rolling my shoulders back to work out a crick.

"He's been like that, man," DJ chuckled, "Ever since I've known him, and I've known him since elementary"

"He's been flirting with guys since elementary?" I asked dryly, mouth screwing up as Marco dropped a pepperoni slice on the floor. He picked it up long past five seconds, shoveling it into his mouth with the rest of the slice.

"Watching him is like a scientist watching their chimpanzee. It's like: he's our friend, but what the fuck is he doing, you know?" Lukas whispered into my ear, catching my look of disgust when Marco threw the five-second rule out of the window. I snickered, nodding in agreement with Lukas' rhetoric. Marco was very much like a lab experiment gone wrong, but there was nothing wrong with him inherently. Sure, his common sense was faulty, but fate had given him DJ, whose common sense was more than enough for both of them. They were a team, like Lukas and me.

"Marco doesn't flirt with guys," DJ looked lost in thought and Lukas turned his attention back to the movie, leaving my neck exposed and suddenly cold.

"He's just weird like that, you know? Affectionate, but an asshole. That's his style." DJ and I continued to watch Marco, DJ's eyes trained on him with a layer of anxiety concealed behind their depths. It didn't seem like he was talking to me, but rather, himself. I just nodded, trying to see it how DJ was describing it.

"Doesn't really make sense though," I mused, "He flirts with everything, bro. If it breathes, he's trying to screw it"

I started to think back to when I'd first met Marco. It was a strange situation -- one of our first practices -- and we'd been competing at first. We'd both wanted to be point guard, and he was fucking pissed that I'd managed to beat him in a shoot out. After all, I was just a fucking freshman. He'd cornered me in the locker room after practice, threatening to knock my teeth out if I showed up to practice the next day.

I'd looked at him drolly, not understanding why he'd been all up in my business.

"Who the fuck are you even?" I'd said, and the rest was history. Marco had busted a gut laughing, while I'd stood there, question still unanswered.

He'd inaugurated me on the spot, grabbing me by the shoulders and introducing me to all of his friends. DJ first, obviously. Then, Roger.

Then, Lukas.

"He's not trying to flirt, though. He's just..." DJ sounded annoyed and I looked at him, confused. He was fiddling with his snapback, hands crushing the brim.

"...Man, I don't know. He's just like that, okay?" DJ sighed heavily, wearily eyeing me. I shrugged, too tired to probe. DJ's hat now looked significantly worse than it had when he'd come in, and I felt a spike of guilt stab my neck. It was a nice snapback: green, with graffiti-style patterns on the underside of the brim.

I liked it, but the way the brim had crumpled made me feel weird. I didn't like that.

"Marco is straight as a pole" DJ finished his thought process, shoulder pressing into mine firmly. I took it for what it was: a warning. I'd never seen DJ when he was angry, but something inside me didn't want to.

Sure, I liked pissing people off, but not my friends. Well, none of them except Marco since he could take it.

"Poles can be bent" Roger chimed in, lounging on the far side of the room. I hadn't even known he was listening, and DJ shot him a look. Roger smiled complacently, turning back to the movie.

I frowned, confused.

"No, they can't"

"Can't what?" Lukas' breath tickled my neck and I squirmed. He moved back with a laugh and I shoved at him lightly.

"Can't what?" He tried again, trying to keep his voice low as Jackie Chan best the shit out of someone on the screen.

"Poles," I relaxed further into the couch, noting with a smile that Lukas was wearing the Pokémon socks I got him for his birthday.

"You can't bend them"

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2461 words

DOUBLE UPDATE (like I promised I would, but never did).

I actually wrote this chapter before chapter seven, but didn't feel like I liked it just yet. I'm pretty proud of it :) I hope you guys liked it! I'm hoping to start on the feelings next chapter, so let's see how that goes.

How was it?

Thank you for reading! Have a beautiful rest of your week, and Happy New Years! I hope 2020 is better than 2019 for all of you <3 :)