Chapter 9: I'm a better COD player, face it.

Chapter 9

I woke up groggily, yawning and rubbing my eyes. I took in the familiar setting. My room spun around me as I sat up quickly. I put my cold hands to my head, groaning loudly- then regretting it a minute later. I heard clacking of computer keys. I turned my head to see Christy sitting with her glasses hanging off of her nose, her newly dyed blond hair swung back into a sloppy bun, but she pulled it off better than I ever could.

“Why does my head feel like this?” I asked, placing my head under my pillow.

“You have a hangover.” She laughed, tossing a loud bottle of pills on my bed beside me. I groaned as I placed the glass she’d handed me to my lips.

"Eat a banana, have some coffee.” She said, handing me the items. I gladly took them and began munching.

“Take a shower; we need to talk, too.” She said with a threatening tone to her voice. I trembled in my pajamas, knowing how strong she was since she pushed me into… Cyrus. I gritted my teeth at the faint memory. I no longer have the upper hand.

“How’s your head?” Christy asked, sitting on my neatly made bed. I glanced at my bed as she patted the spot beside her.

“Good, the headache subsided.” I said truthfully as I sat down.

“Why were you drunk?” She asked, crossing her arms. She acted like a mother, like I said before.

“I- um, you see, the thing is.” I began stuttering.

“The truth.” She said, narrowing her eyes.

“I was dancing with a guy, whose name isn’t important, and Cyrus saw and got angry, so angry that he broke glass. He broke glass! Who breaks glass? It’s just not normal or sanitary! But anyway, I helped him with his bloody hand; it was literally bloody, not the English version of, well, you know. But he made me promise that I’d stay beside him and he dragged me to a game where you admit stuff.” I said, taking a deep breath of air.

“And they asked Cyrus about a time when he did something with the girl on his left. I was on his right… and Cyrus… did the dirty deed with her.” I said, innocently. Christy watched me with a nervous expression before she broke into a full on grin. I looked at my best friend as if she was a nut.

“You’re starting to like Cyrus.” She said, pressing her lips together.

“What? No! I don’t. I barely know him! That’s impossible!” I countered, glaring at her.

“Seems pretty possible to me…” She trailed off, biting her nail.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at him?” I asked, crossing my arms with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, get back to the story.” She demanded, placing her hands on her knees as she listened intently.

“They asked me next about a time someone important to me hurt me. And I did the stupid thing of skipping and took 2 shots of some random drink they poured me. Then, it was my turn again and they asked about a bad ex, and I told them about Dean.” I said, gripping my jeans between my two fingers. She looked at me as if to say ‘more.’ So I continued telling her the story.

“But… I ended up with a hurt feeling in the pit of my stomach and the feeling of wanting to cry, so I excused myself so I could go to the bathroom where I locked the door. Cyrus followed me, I guess, and kept asking me to open the bathroom door. But I wouldn’t. Then I texted you the address that I had to pry out of him and you came but he wouldn’t let me leave alone, because he said someone would’ve taken advantage of my drunken state.” I said, biting my lip.

“Now, tell me what you guys talked about.” I demanded. Christy looked taken back by my abrupt emotional change.

“Well… I yelled at him for taking you there even when you didn’t want to go, getting you drunk and angry, and not driving you home. I also told him to just leave you alone.” She said shrugging.

“What did he say?” I enquired.

“He said that he honestly didn’t mean to make you angry and he just wanted you to have fun, and you wouldn’t let him drive you home because you wouldn’t even let him walk you to the car never mind sit inside a car for half an hour. He just wants to talk to you so he can apologize. But he said he’s making no promises to leave you alone anytime soon.” She winked, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively. I tossed a pillow at her, annoyed.

"I hate you.” I muttered under my breath as she dodged the pillow skillfully.

“You love me!” She shouted in a singsong tone.

“You wish, where’s my mom?” I asked, sighing.

“She left to get some groceries and she told me to tell you that you need to get ready so you can go with her to visit her client.” She said, clicking away on her computer. I nodded.

“I’m not trying to be nosy, but who is this important client that you aren’t complaining about visiting; because you usually complain… a lot!” Christy blabbed annoyingly.

“Oh, it’s no one special.” I replied, re-brushing my hair. I made a hand gesture like it was no big deal when I’m sure my face gave it all away.

“Oh really?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes really. It’s just the Angelo’s.” I replied, applying a layer of mascara.

“Angelo…Angelo… why does that sound familiar?” She asked, tapping her chin.

“There are a lot of Angelo’s in Morrison High.” I shrugged.

“Wait… Cyrus’s last name is Angelo. Your mom’s clients are Cyrus’s parents! Why didn’t you tell me? Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! You saw his room! What color is it? Is it neat? Or is it the usual boy messy? Does he have posters? What music does he like?” She nearly screeched.

“That is why I didn’t tell you.” I replied, placing a clip in my hair.

“Answer my questions!” She said, crossing her arms. I let out a tired sigh.

“I did see his room, it is blue and black. It’s slightly messy, like a normal guy. He has a few posters, and he likes rock music.” I replied, puckering my lips for my chap stick.

“Wow. You’ve been in Cyrus Angelo’s room.” She said in amazement. I glared at her for a second before scoffing. I’m obviously not the first. And I’m definitely not the last.

__

“Thanks a lot for getting me home!” I said to Christy who was walking to her car.

“No problem at all!” She replied, slamming her door and speeding off. I got in my car after my mom called and told me to meet her at the Angelo’s residence in my car.

I drove to the large house which I still wasn’t used to seeing. I looked at myself once more in the mirror, professional enough. My mom greeted me by my car door before yanking me out.

“You’re late.” She said, frowning.

“Sorry, let’s go.” I said, dropping my purse. I lifted it up to see my mom racing forward towards the door. Maybe she was just early.

__

“Hello.” Oliver said, his eyes crinkling in the corners. It’s weird how he’s always the one to open the door.

"Hello.” My mother said, smiling. He opened the door for us with a kind greeting towards me. I smiled and returned the greeting. He pulled me to the side.

“It may be for personal business but Daniel told me to ask you to talk to him upstairs.” He said with his eyebrows furrowed. I nodded, walking upstairs. How embarrassing was that?

__

I knocked loudly on the door. I heard a grumble and then footsteps approaching the door.

“What mom?” Cyrus said, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, this is the second time you mistaken me for your mom. It’s getting a bit weird, Cyrus.” I announced, nodding slowly. His head darted up. He smiled sleepily. He still looked gorgeous.

“Uh, come in. I’m going to uh, take a shower. So, just sit down. Watch TV or something.” He said, walking to his closet. I nodded as he walked to the bathroom with clothes in his hand.

I turned on his PlayStation 3, inserting the Call of Duty Black Ops 2 disk, his account was already signed in. I cracked my knuckles, grabbing a controller and tossing my hair out of my face into a sloppy bun. It’s been a while since I played this game.

The game was loading up. When it finally loaded, I clicked ‘Multi Player’ and then ‘Domination, Find Match.’ A few people were talking loudly, I so badly wanted to tell them to shut up but I realized that it’d probably ruin whatever reputation he managed to build up. My voice sounded like a 10 year old girl on the Mic. The game started and I began playing, sniping people from buildings, ballistic knifing the campers who thought they were slick. I was on a kill streak when the bathroom door opened. 19 kills, just one more.

“Whoa… you play Call of Duty?” Cyrus’s voice asked, causing me to jump slightly. I ended up dying.

“Obviously.” I replied hastily, throwing a grenade. I killed 4 people with that- kill streak of 23. I wandered the map, looking for any of my enemies. The game ended and my team won, with me in first place with 26 kills and 1 deaths.

“Wow… you’re pretty good... for a girl.” He smiled, nodding his head at my score. I rolled my eyes but decided to take it as a compliment.

“Thanks.” I replied, turning off the game.

“I’m sorry.” He said, catching me off guard. I wrenched my body towards him.

“What was that?” I asked, my voice raising two octaves. I coughed to try and bring it back to normal.

“I said I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad, and what happened between that girl and I was years ago. I promise. I wasn’t trying to do that to you, I swear. It was different back then, I was different back then. I just wanted to return you home in one piece. I don’t know about you, but I consider us friends. And I don’t want to ruin our friendship by some stupid game of ‘What I did.’ And I’m also sorry about Dean, he’s a walking dirt bag who didn’t and never will deserve you. I’m just sorry.” Cyrus said sincerely. He bowed his head sadly.

For whatever reason, when he said ‘I don’t know about you,’ it reminded me of ‘22’ by Taylor Swift. I felt a smile tugging at the corner of my lips. I wanted so badly to reach out and hug him, just wrap my arms around his neck but I couldn’t. I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t. I can’t.

“I accept your apology. I am sorry myself.” I said sheepishly. He looked up, slightly confused.

“I’m sorry for acting so hostile and, well, jealous. I’m always stubborn, but you dealt with me, so I thank you for that. And thanks for walking me to the car, it meant a lot.” I spoke. I looked up at him to see a full blown grin on his face.

“You were jealous,” He said quietly at first. I raised an eyebrow.

“You were jealous.” He announced a bit louder.

“You were JEALOUS.” He repeated. I raised my other eyebrow, so now both of my eyebrows were raised. He broke into dance and song.

“You were jealous! Duh, nu, nu! You were jealous! Oh, so jealous!” He repeated while I laughed.

“Oh shut up.” I replied, scowling.

“You want to play some COD, Jealous Maverly?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. I rolled my eyes, grabbing a controller.

__

“You are a cheater!” He yelled, tossing his controller onto the couch.

“How?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He was standing up, his hands moving around crazily in the air.

“You are glitching the game, aren’t you?” He announced, pointing to the wall flat screen. I shook my head, no.

“You’re a liar! You’re cheating!” He said, crossing his arm.

“You just stink and you’re jealous.” I replied, shrugging.

“I do not stink and I am not jealous!” He said, narrowing his eyes, annoyed.

"Obviously you do.” I said, shrugging.

“I don’t!” He retorted.

“You got beat by a girl. I had 36 kills and no deaths; you had 3 deaths and 18 kills.” I said.

“So? That was just one match!” He replied.

“Okay, the first match we played. You had 24 kills and 12 deaths; I had 38 kills and one death.” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, that’s two matches. That still doesn’t mean I stink.” He said, frowning now.

“It does, though.” I said, smirking.

“I still have two favors left.” He randomly added.

“But-.” I began speaking, trying to interrupt him.

“I’d like to cash a favor in.” He said, announcing the favor seconds later. I shook my head, ‘no.’ There was no way I was doing that. We’d be the center of attention. No way.