January 13th, 2018

The couch cushions were a permanent part of my spine. The only thing moving was my thumbs on the PS4 controller. On the screen, my Canucks were getting obliterated by the Blackhawks.

"Come on, come on, come on," I muttered. I deked, I shot, I watched the puck clank harmlessly off the post. "Are you kidding me?!"

A loud sigh cut through my frustration. "Raj, I am going to lose my mind," Faith declared from the floor.

I didn't look away from the screen. "That was bullshit, and you know it."

"No," she said, her voice sharpening. "This stupid formula is bullshit, and it requires my brain to focus, which is not happening when you keep yelling about some Swedish guy's stickhandling."

"He's a legend, Faith. Show some respect."

"Respect this," she said, flipping me off without looking up from her textbook.

Makaylah, who was studying beside her on the floor, let out a soft laugh.

"I think you girls need a break," I said, dropping the controller onto my chest.

"You need a break from being a loud, sweaty mess," Makaylah shot back. Her face was scrunched in concentration, her gold hoop nose ring catching the light from the lamp.

I pushed myself up. "I am not sweaty," I said. I stretched, my joints cracking.

"Okay, but the loud mess part is still accurate," Makaylah said.

"I'm going to get a snack. Anyone want anything?"

"Could you grab me a Coke?" Faith asked, not looking up.

"I'll take a water," Makaylah said.

"Bet," I said, shuffling towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was small but warm. I pulled the fridge door open. I grabbed a can of Coke and a bottle of water. I grabbed a box of crackers for myself and closed the door with my hip.

I walked back into the living room, just as Faith tossed her pen down with a groan. "This is impossible."

"No, it's not," Makaylah said, her tone was patient but firm. "You're just trying to memorise the steps instead of understanding the principle."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you the teacher now?" Faith retorted.

"I'm just saying, if you'd actually read the chapter, you'd get it."

I set their drinks down on the coffee table. "Whoa, ladies. Let's not resort to violence. The coffee table is new."

Faith crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm over this."

Makaylah sighed. She pushed her textbook away and leaned back against the couch, her head tilting back to look up at the ceiling. "Okay, fine. Let's take ten minutes."

"Thank god," Faith breathed out.

"So," I said, plopping back down on the couch. "What are we going to do to celebrate our ten minutes of freedom?"

Faith grabbed her Coke, the can cracking open with a satisfying hiss. "So, did you guys watch the awards last night?"

Makaylah snorted. "Please. As if I had two and a half hours to spare watching rich people pat each other on the back."

"Oh my god," Faith gasped,

My eyes had glazed over about thirty seconds into the conversation. I leaned back into the couch cushions, my focus drifting from their conversation to the familiar patterns on the ceiling.

A pillow smacked me squarely in the face. It was soft, but the surprise made me flinch.

"Hey!" I protested.

Makaylah was grinning at me, her eyes alight with mischief. "You were gone."

"So what!?" I yelled, throwing the pillow back at her.

She caught it easily. "So you're my boyfriend. You're required to pretend to be interested in what I'm saying."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Guys, you're like an old married couple," Faith groaned.

"Hey!" we both said at the same time.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Okay, okay," I said, holding my hands up in surrender. "Truce."

Makaylah tossed the pillow back onto the couch. "Fine."

"So, what were we talking about?" I asked.

"Nothing important," Faith said. "Just the fact that you two are gross."

"You're just jealous," I teased, winking at her.

"Oh, as if," Faith said, rolling her eyes.

"You're telling me that if you had a boyfriend you wouldn't be just as, if not more, disgusting?" Makaylah asked, her tone teasing.

"Okay, one," Faith said, holding up a finger. "I wouldn't be disgusting. I would be chic and alluring."

"Chic and alluring," I repeated. "Right."

"And two," she continued, ignoring me, "if I had a boyfriend, we would not be spending our Saturday nights studying and playing video games."

"No?" Makaylah asked.

"No," Faith said firmly. "We would be out. Doing things. Fun things."

"Like what?" I asked. "Going to the 7-Eleven for a Slurpee?"

"Better than this," Faith shot back.

"Ouch," I said, clutching my chest. "That's harsh, but I bet you wouldn't say that if Sean were here." I grinned.

Makaylah and I exchanged a look. Faith and Sean had been doing a strange dance around each other for months. It was a source of endless entertainment for us.

Faith's face flushed. "Sean is... different."

"Sean's more boring than me!" I said, laughing.

"Sean is not boring," Faith said, her voice a little too loud. "He's... cool."

"Cool is just another word for boring," I said.

"No, it's not," Makaylah said, kicking my leg. "Sean has an aura."

"He has what now?" I asked.

"An aura," Makaylah said. "You know, that whole broody, skater-boy thing he's got going on. It's very appealing."

"See!" Faith said, pointing at Makaylah. "She gets it."

"What kind of aura do I have?" I asked.

Makaylah looked at me, her head tilted to the side. "You have a... pestilent aura."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means you're a pest," she said. "A very charming pest, but a pest nonetheless."

"Why do you hurt me with your words?" I brought my hand to my chest dramatically.

"I could hurt you with my fists," Makaylah said. "If you'd prefer."

"I'll take the words."

"Smart choice."

Faith was watching us. "Okay, so I'm not the only one who thinks Sean is hot."

"I didn't say he was hot," Makaylah said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "I said he had an aura."

"Same thing," Faith said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Can we stop talking about how hot Sean is?" I asked.

"Why?" Faith asked. "Are you jealous?"

"No," I said. "It's just... weird."

"You're just mad because he's cooler than you," Makaylah said.

"I am not mad," I said. "It's weird to talk about my best friend like he's a piece of meat."

"He is a very nice piece of meat," Faith said, a dreamy look in her eyes.

I groaned. "That's it. I'm done."