Friends like these - Jay

Fridays were the only day at college I genuinely looked forward to. The main reason? It was basically a half day. We had a free period in the afternoon that was supposedly meant for studying or catching up on coursework. In reality, no one used the time for that, at least no one I knew. It had become an unofficial excuse for leaving early and pretending to be productive while heading off to do something infinitely more enjoyable—or just sleeping.

But Fridays weren't just about escaping college early; they were also movie night with my friends. This week, it was my turn to host, and I'd spent most of the morning making sure everything was perfect. We took turns visiting each other's houses, partly to be fair and partly because none of our parents wanted a rowdy group of teenagers invading their living room every week. My mom was no exception. She was pretty relaxed most of the time, but even she had her limits.

I smoothed out the duvet on my bed for what must've been the third time, carefully placing my Blåhaj shark plushie in the center. My friends loved to tease me about my shark obsession, but I didn't care. They weren't wrong—I had a bit of a thing for sharks. Okay, maybe more than "a bit." I wasn't even sure when it had started, but at this point, it was just part of who I was. I couldn't even fall asleep without my Blåhaj anymore, which was probably ridiculous for a 17-year-old, but so what?

Yeah, yeah, I was a dork. But I was starting to embrace it. Maybe it was just part of growing up, realizing that it didn't matter what other people thought as long as I was comfortable with myself. My friends didn't seem to care, so why should I? The way I saw it, if someone couldn't handle a little dorkiness, they didn't deserve to be part of my life anyway.

This newfound confidence—or maybe stubbornness—was what had helped me ignore the text from Ben earlier. I picked up my phone from where it rested on my desk and reread the message for the hundredth time, my irritation bubbling up again.

Ben: Music block 11:30

Jay: I don't think we should meet up anymore.

The two ticks sat there, mocking me. Read. Received. Ignored. I wasn't even sure what I had expected when I sent the message, but I thought I'd get something. A reply, at the very least. Knowing that he had read it and decided not to respond was like a slap in the face.

I sighed, scrolling through Instagram to distract myself. Thankfully, the storm of negativity that had flooded my notifications after I came out as gay had finally died down. My feed wasn't clogged with "flagged comments" anymore, and my notifications were mercifully quiet. That said, my feed felt a bit... stagnant. Blocking most of the school had thinned it out, and I wasn't exactly following many new people.

After a moment's hesitation, I found myself typing "Sam Rivers" into the search bar. I wasn't even sure if he used his real name on Instagram. Most people at school went by silly usernames which made them harder to find. But when the results loaded, my gaze immediately landed on a small circular profile picture of a bright ginger shark. There was no mistaking it—it was him.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked on the profile. Sam had a big following, which wasn't surprising, considering he was the captain of the football team and basically a school celebrity. His page was packed with photos. Most were football-related—group shots of the team, action shots mid-game, and a few pictures of him holding trophies.

Then, I saw the one that made me pause. It was simple: just Sam at the beach, holding an ice cream cone in one paw. The first thing I noticed, though, wasn't the ice cream—it was him. Shirtless. Of course. His bright orange fur practically glowed in the sunlight, and his smile was wide and carefree, like he didn't have a single worry in the world.

I shook my head, trying to refocus. The thing that actually caught my attention—aside from the obvious—was the ice cream itself. Mint chocolate chip. A flavour almost universally hated by everyone I knew, yet here was Sam, unashamedly enjoying it. It happened to be my favourite, too, which made me feel... something. I wasn't sure what though.

Who was I kidding? It wasn't the ice cream that had me staring. It was Sam. my obsession with sharks had taken a whole new level and I needed to stop simping over hot straight guys who were not only way out of my league,but also an impossible dream.

Still, I couldn't resist hitting the "Follow" button, because... hot sharks, why else?. The moment I did, the doorbell rang, jolting me back to reality. I practically leapt out of my chair and bolted downstairs, not wanting to give my sister a chance to interrogate my friends at the door.

As expected, she was loitering in the kitchen, sipping some kind of drink and keeping a watchful eye on the hallway. She loved to insert herself into any situation involving my friends, partly out of curiosity and partly because she just liked being annoying.

I ignored her completely, focusing on the door. Swinging it open, greeting my friends with a grin.

"Jay!" they all exclaimed in unison, grinning wide and brandishing an assortment of snacks in their paws. And there they all were, my odd yet wonderful circle of friends, each as unique as they were irreplaceable.

"Found this lot at the corner shop," Alex announced, striding in like he owned the place. His large frame practically filled the hallway, his wide grin showing off sharp teeth. His black-and-orange stripes stood out vividly against the blue of his hoodie, and the way his tail swished behind him told me he was in an exceptionally good mood tonight. Alex had a natural charisma—something that came effortlessly with being a tiger—but beneath that dominating presence was a sensitive, protective soul.

Alex had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. Our friendship went all the way back to our first day of nursery school when we'd both shown up with the same cartoon character on our lunchboxes. That simple coincidence had somehow cemented our bond. He was also the first person I ever came out to, and while he wasn't always the best at expressing himself, he'd been there for me through thick and thin. This year had been especially rough with all the bullying, and Alex had done his best to keep me out of trouble whenever he could. The trouble was, we weren't in the same classes anymore, so our time together was limited to moments like these.

Following closely behind Alex was Morgan. The slender wolf slipped inside with her usual quiet confidence. Her sleek grey fur was streaked with silver along the tips of her ears and down the back of her neck, catching the light as she moved. The moonlight outside glinted off her glasses, making her yellow-green eyes seem even sharper than usual. Those eyes had a way of seeing everything without giving away what she was thinking—a trait I admired and sometimes envied.

"I brought popcorn," she said simply, holding up a massive bag of the sweet kind in one paw while balancing a few other bags under her arm. I tried to make out the flavour, squinting at the colourful packaging.

"Don't worry," she added with a small smile, pulling out a bag of vanilla popcorn and waving it for me to see clearly. "I got your favourite."

"Thanks," I chuckled, stepping forward to give her a hug. Morgan wasn't one for big gestures, but she always had a way of making me feel seen.

Next in was Tara, who swept in with her usual energy. The purple feathers on her arms contrasted sharply against her black fur, giving her an almost otherworldly look. Tara was part hawk, and her sharp, glinting eyes carried a perpetual sense of mischief that was impossible to ignore. She held up a bag of tortilla chips, grinning like she'd just won a prize.

"Tortilla chips, because you can't watch a movie without them," she declared. Her gaze flicked toward Eli, the last of the group, with a playful sparkle that made me wonder if she was already plotting some kind of teasing comment.

Eli was newer to our group, at least compared to the others. He'd only started joining us after I came out. He was gay too, and while he'd faced his share of challenges, things seemed to have gone easier for him. He'd chosen art as his main focus, and from what he told me, the art department had a much more accepting vibe than most of the school.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I brought these," Eli said, holding up a bag of sour sweets with a bold claim on the front: The Sourest Ever! His smile was shy but warm, a little sheepish as if he wasn't sure how the group would react.

"Figured we could test that claim," he added, his golden fur catching the light. The black spots scattered across his sleek frame gave him the distinct look of a cheetah, but his quiet demeanour was a contrast to the speed and intensity most people associated with his species. Eli had a calming presence, like a steady current beneath still water. He wore a loose, oversized sweater that looked two sizes too big, the rolled-up sleeves revealing slender, graceful paws.

"I brought drinks, too," Eli added, lifting a bag with a mix of cans inside. "Lemon or peach iced tea—I wasn't sure what the vibe was, so I figured I'd cover both."

"I'm in for lemon," I said, closing the door behind them as the group began to shuffle inside.

"Peach for me," Morgan chimed in, already inspecting the snack selection with her critical eye.

"Peach," Tara agreed with a wink, her feathers ruffling slightly as adjusted her grip on the Tortilla chips

Alex, being Alex, didn't bother with decisions. He simply grunted, grabbed whichever can was closest to him, and immediately headed upstairs toward my room. His tail swished as he disappeared down the hallway, his towering frame making the narrow staircase look even smaller.

The rest of us followed behind, each carrying something—snacks, drinks, or just our usual banter. My sister hovered in the kitchen, sipping a drink and watching us with her typical smirk. She was always ready to pounce with some sarcastic comment, but I made a point of ignoring her. I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

As we climbed the stairs, the chatter picked up, Alex already calling dibs on the best seat. Morgan rolled her eyes, muttering something about fairness, while Tara poked fun at his territorial nature. Eli, as always, stayed quiet, his small smile hinting that he was happy just being part of the group.

When we reached my room, Alex had already sprawled out on the bed like it was his personal throne, tossing my Blåhaj aside with an exaggerated groan.

"You still sleep with this thing?" he teased, holding the plush shark aloft.

"Yes, and if you don't put him back where you found him, I'll banish you to the floor," I shot back, grabbing the nearest bag of popcorn and launching it at him.

"Alright, alright!" Alex laughed, placing the shark back in its spot. ", I wont upset the shark, Let's get this movie night started."

As Eli set the drinks down on the side table with a careful touch, the others began to settle in on my bed. It was comfortably cluttered with a pile of blankets, my Blåhaj shark nestled prominently at the centre, and, of course, the snacks we'd amassed. The TV sat on the opposite wall, glowing faintly in standby mode, while Alex had already claimed the remote. He lounged back against the wall with his usual air of confidence, paw hovering over the buttons like a king deciding the fate of his subjects.

I handed out the popcorn, carefully distributing it into a few mismatched bowls I'd brought up from the kitchen. It was an impromptu system, but no one seemed to mind. As the room filled with the scent of butter and caramel, we started catching up. Conversations flowed effortlessly—from tales of school chaos to what pizza toppings we might agree on if we got hungry later. Though, with the snacks spread out like a banquet before us, I doubted any of us would have room for much else.

"So," Tara began, stretching her arms overhead with a dramatic yawn before plopping down onto the rug. "What's the pick for tonight?" She shot Alex a pointed look as she reached over and casually swiped the remote from his paw.

"Something fun this time," Alex said, slouching further into his corner of the bed in mock protest. His tail flicked lazily as he adjusted his position, making himself even more at home. "Maybe a classic? Like Fast & Furious or something."

"Classic?" Tara laughed, her sharp eyes glinting with mischief as she tossed a tortilla chip into the air and caught it expertly in her beak. "You and your straight boy films. What's next? Top Gun?"

"Hey, Top Gun is iconic," Alex said, holding up his paws in mock indignation.

Tara smirked but didn't bother to argue further, already glancing toward the others for suggestions.

"Maybe something sci-fi like, maybe dystopian," Eli chimed in, his voice soft but thoughtful. His amber eyes had that faraway look, like he was already brainstorming. "Something... offbeat. You know, a film that keeps us guessing."

"We could watch that one about the haunted house," Morgan suggested, her voice calm and measured as always. She adjusted her glasses, the reflection of the TV flickering across the lenses. "You know, the one with the creepy piano music? It's got that unsettling atmosphere. Plus, it's close to Halloween, so it fits." She shot me a glance, her subtle way of reminding me it was technically my turn to pick the movie.

I nodded, grateful for the suggestions. Truthfully, it didn't matter much to me what we watched. Just being in the same room with my friends, surrounded by their laughter and energy, was enough. The film was always secondary to the experience of being together.

"Oh, I'm down for spooky," Tara said, already sitting up straighter, her feathers fluffing slightly with excitement. "As long as it's not too much. Last time we watched a horror movie, Alex nearly broke the couch." She turned to him with a raised brow, her expression halfway between amusement and warning.

"I was just... getting into the mood!" Alex protested, flailing his arms in mock defence. "It was part of the experience!"

"It was part of the experience to launch yourself over the back of the couch like a missile?" Tara shot back, her grin widening.

"Hey, it was a jump scare! What was I supposed to do?" Alex crossed his arms, but the flick of his tail betrayed his amusement. It was true—Alex, for all his strength and confidence, was hilariously jumpy when it came to horror movies. The memory of him diving over the sofa during the last film we'd watched still made me laugh. He'd nearly taken the couch with him in his panic.

After a few more exchanges of playful banter, the decision was made. We'd go for something spooky, but not too heavy on the jump scares. Tara took over setting up the Xbox to pull up Netflix, while I flicked off the lights. Darkness instantly transformed the room, the soft glow of the TV screen casting faint shadows across our faces. Watching movies in the dark always made it feel more immersive, especially when it came to horror.

As the opening credits began to roll, I settled onto the bed beside Eli. The faint warmth radiating from his presence, combined with the chatter of the others, made everything feel cozy and just right. I grabbed my Blåhaj holding him tight glancing around the room, taking in the sight of my friends: Alex, sprawled out like he owned the place; Morgan, perched calmly with her analytical expression; Tara, her eyes already glinting with anticipation; and Eli, quietly content as he cradled his drink in both paws.

This was my circle, my strange and wonderful mix of personalities, and I wouldn't trade them for anything. No one else quite understood me the way they did.

But as I sat there, surrounded by laughter and the comfort of their presence, a small pang of guilt tugged at my chest. I hadn't told them about Ben. The thought crept into my mind like an uninvited guest.

It wasn't an easy topic to bring up. I'd promised Ben I'd keep things between us a secret, and I'd stuck to that promise even though it was eating away at me. Part of me felt I owed him nothing—he'd made it clear he wasn't willing to be open about us, and I deserved better. But another part of me hesitated. My friends would know exactly what to say. They'd reassure me that I was right to cut things off, or maybe they'd challenge me, tell me I should have handled it differently.

No. I wasn't going back there again. I'd already made up my mind. I wanted more than secret meetings in the music block or stolen kisses when no one was looking. I wanted a relationship I could be proud of, someone who could accept me fully for who I was. Someone I could introduce to my friends without hesitation, someone who wanted to be with me for more than just fleeting moments of convenience.

I wanted a real boyfriend.