Boys night.

It was 10 minutes later that Kevin and Ben arrived, carrying a six-pack of beer each plus bags of chips.

“Hello, hello!” Kevin greeted cheerfully. He looked at me, then towards the drink in my hand and raised an eyebrow. Before I could greet them back, he said, “Why are you drinking that, Oliver? That’s for girls.”

I flinched and began to feel heat going to my face, but then I heard Ben snorting. “Like you have any right to judge people for their tastes, Mr. Pineapple-on-Pizza.”

“This again? It’s delicious!” Kevin argued back.

“It’s disgusting,” Thomas told him. “We’re not ordering pizza with pineapple again.”

“Alright, alright. Then what are we having?” Kevin gave up. He and Ben sat down with us at the table outside.

Thomas picked his phone up and began typing. “I don’t know. What toppings do you want, Oliver? Or do you prefer something other than pizza?”

I shook my head. “Pizza’s good. Um… maybe bacon?”

“I always knew you were one of mine,” Thomas said, grinning.

“Mushrooms too,” added Ben.

“And olives,” said Kevin.

Thomas nodded. “Olives I can get behind.” He made the order from his phone, and while he did, Kevin turned to me with a mischievous grin.

“So? When does the stripper get here?”

My heart skipped a beat. They didn’t really…?

“Please tell me you didn’t actually hire one,” Thomas said dryly.

“No, but we considered it.” Ben laughed and opened his beer, the can giving off a nice, loud hiss.

“Look, I know you guys think I need to get my mind off of Lyla, but I’m doing well, seriously.”

“Have you talked to her since then?” I asked hesitantly.

Thomas shook his head. “And it’s awkward because we’re in the same class. But it could be worse.”

“How so?” I asked.

“There were these classmates of ours last year,” Ben started. “They broke up and would actually start yelling at each other in the middle of class. At least Thomas and Lyla broke up in… okay terms.”

“Ah. Y-Yes, that'd be worse…”

“Do you want to get back together with her?” Kevin asked Thomas.

“...Kind of?” Thomas admitted, sighing. “But even if we did, it’s not like the problems we had before will go away.”

“What problems DID you have?” Ben asked, crossing his arms and leaning back on his chair. “You guys never fought, that I know.”

I shifted uncomfortably and took another sip of my drink. I was still on the first one, and I’d barely had half of it. So Thomas told me about his problems with Lyla, but didn’t tell these two?

“...Seems like we wanted different things, is all,” Thomas settled for answering, not wanting to go into detail and taking a good, long drink of his own can of beer.

Kevin nodded. “Then you want to move on or stay single for a while? I ask because there’s like five girls already asking me if you’re looking for a new girlfriend.”

I flinched. “It’s not even been a week,” I muttered to myself, but apparently I was loud enough for everyone to hear me. Ben nodded in agreement.

“You know…” Thomas grunted. “I have no idea what I want. On the one hand, it doesn’t feel right to go to another woman just after breaking up, but on the other…” He groaned and shook his head with eyes closed, frustrated.

I felt like I could hazard a guess. Throughout the entire time he and Lyla dated, their sex life wasn’t satisfying. It was probably one of the main reasons they broke up. Now Thomas was single, and apparently not lacking in potential partners.

“I say you find another girl.” Surprisingly, it was Ben who said that. I don’t know why it surprised me, but he gave me the impression of being a bit more reserved on these matters than Kevin. “It doesn’t need to be serious, but I think it’ll help you move on. She broke up with you, right? She can’t complain.”

“Do we know if Lyla’s been hanging out with another guy?” Kevin asked carefully.

“Not that I know of,” Thomas said, sighing. He then turned to me. “What do you think, Oliver? Should I just find another girl?”

I swallowed more of my drink. Without realizing it, the bottle was nearly empty. I blinked at it twice then refocused on Thomas.

“I think… I think Ben’s right,” I admitted. “She broke up with you, and you remember what she said, right?” I didn’t quote her words since Thomas clearly didn’t want to spread this around. “If that was the reason she gave you, then I think it’s fine that you move on. If that’s what you want, of course.”

As Thomas told me, Lyla’s excuse for breaking up with him was that he should find someone more suited to him. Regardless if she truly meant it or not, those were her words. No one should hold it against Thomas for taking them at face value.

Kevin and Ben looked at me with raised eyebrows. I suppressed a wince, noticing I’d just admitted to know more than them. I should’ve picked my words more carefully, dammit.

Thomas groaned again and rubbed his face with one big hand. “Dammit, I didn’t bring you guys here so we could keep talking about this.”

I offered him a sympathetic smile. I wouldn’t like to keep being questioned if I was in his place. I should’ve known that. Still, Thomas didn’t look all that uncomfortable and his annoyance was all mostly theatrics.

Then I felt a sharp sensation on my head. Not pain of any sort, but something oddly familiar. For some damn reason, my sixth sense kicked in, and looking at Thomas, I understood it perfectly.

My friend was extremely sexually frustrated. I thought I understood it before, but not like this. It was like a cluster of conflicted emotions rushed into my head for a split second. My sixth sense was working on Thomas, I knew. At the very top of that cluster of emotions was the desire to just disregard everything and find himself a woman to sleep with. I think our advice was pushing him even further towards that.

“...I’ll consider it, alright?” Thomas finally said. “Even if I were to move on, it’s not like I want to start dating the first girl I come across.”

“What’s frustrating is that you could if you wanted to.” Kevin barked a laugh, betraying his own words. “You have like 10 girls who’d jump you the moment you offered.”

“Dude, shut up, you have a date tomorrow,” Ben told him, grinning into his beer. “Let’s cut Thomas some slack, okay? We’ve pressed him enough.”

“I agree,” I said, smiling.

“Now let’s press Oliver for details of what happened on Wednesday.”

“I do not agree,” I said, no longer smiling.

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