———

"Come on, you need to sober up." The ginger rolled his eyes like Carla did seconds before and out both his hands on Jerome's shoulders and pretty much forced him to walk in a straight line to the nearest bathroom. Jerome groaned and whined, trying to twist himself out of Monty's forceful grip but eventually he got fed up and gave in.

Monty groaned internally as his best friend vomited into the toilet loudly. He wanted nothing more for Jerome to fall into the toilet and get trapped in the sewers because now there's zero chance he's gonna get any action at this stupid party and he's pretty much obliterated his chances with Carla because of his stupid, drunk best friend.

Monty leaned back onto Jerome's sink whilst rolling his eyes in disapproval everytime his best friend puked up his insides into the toilet, "What did I tell you?" He said with a tone of anger.

"To not- bleh, to not to drink my feelings away." Jerome grimaced before throwing up once more.

"And what did you do?"

"Drink my feelings away.." Jerome coughed and rubbed his throat which was now stinging from all the sick he was heaving up.

"I told you so." The ginger shook his head and shot his best friend a sympathetic look.

The only thing that filled the silence for the next couple of minutes was Jerome putting his whole head into the toilet bowl and occasionally coughing something up, after a while though all the alcohol was out of his system and he was just bringing up bile.

"Did you talk to Diana?" The freckled boy asked, slightly hopeful that his platonic soulmate didn't fuck up his chances anymore with his year long crush.

Monty had no idea how Jerome liked Diana, let alone how long it had been. I mean, yeah, Diana was pretty he'd give her that, but there wasn't really much to her. She was just any typical sort of teenage girl their age- I mean, so was Cindy. Cindy was the most basic teenage girl you could get, to the point where Monty was starting to question himself as to whether he even liked her. She was girly, blonde, wore high heels, always dressed up- everything opposite of Monty's type, although Monty had zero idea what his type even was.

He'd liked a good few girls in his highschool years. He dated a few in the year above but none really stuck out, apart from the fact they were completely different to Cindy. Zero similar characteristics at all.
They all had some niche hobby they were really into, more on tomboy side and were fun to talk to,
atleast for a month or so.

Cindy had none of that. No hobbies, completely feminine and talking to her was like a brick wall.

What made him fall head over heels for her? I mean, Jerome's theory was that she spiked his drink with a love potion and Buggs' was that she got him so high that he couldn't see the difference between a trash can and herself so it was an easy hookup she could bag. Both were very possible outcomes and either could've happened. Monty just wish he knew the actual answer.

"Oi, are you even listening?" Suddenly Jerome was in Monty's face, clicking his fingers rapidly and aggressively like a mother.

"What? Oh, sorry. What did you say again?"

Jerome grunted, "I said I didn't get the chance to, she didn't come over to get a drink once. Not even once the whole however many hours I was in there!" He finally brought his head up from the toilet bowl and wiped his mouth before flushing and closing the toilet lid.

"That sucks, at least you didn't have the chance to fuck things up by hitting on her whilst you couldnt even stand up?" Monty shrugged and smiled sheepishly, earning a quick scowl from the boy hunched over.

"Did you have the chance to talk to anyone?" His best friend cooed.

Fuck. Does he not remember him and Carla sitting so close to eachother, lips practically touching? I mean, he was really drunk like- out of his mind pissed but surely he could remember something like that? Or was Monty overthinking it too much? It wasn't that deep was it?

"Oh- no. I just kind of left everyone else to it, Haha." He fake smiled and laughed, trying to draw all attention away from him and the topic of hookups.

"Did you see Felix storm out? That's the one thing I can vaguely remember."

"No? Why did he leave?" The pale boys attention suddenly peaked.

"I-I can't remember exactly, it looked like Cindy and him had an argument and he just- stormed out! After he left Cindy went to go sit with Buggs but he kept pushing her away and now I have no idea where she is." Jerome waffled on.

The shorter boy was taken aback by his friends sudden news. Why did him and Cindy argue? What was it about? It must have been pretty big for Felix to storm out surely? Whatever it was, Monty wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"God, I need to lie down." Jerome sighed before flushing the toilet, which was now half filled with vomit.

"Come on, i'll help you." The freckled boy laughed slightly at the state his friend was in before he put an arm around him and carried him to the room connected to the porch where him and Carla shared that intimate moment. God, he hoped no one saw that, especially not Jerome; That is the last person he would want to know about him and Carla. He would go apeshit.

Once the boy settled down and dozed off Monty chuckled and took a photo for keepsake and also blackmail for future events, you could never know when this would come in handy. When he heard snoring the ginger tip-toed to the patio door and peered through the glass window. Carla was nowhere to be seen. Monty frowned and got out his phone.

Did he scare her off? Doubt it, if anyone scared her off it would've been Jerome. The guy is a freak when he's drunk and everyone knows it. He becomes nearly as slutty as Cindy, although that's not possible, no one can be more of a whore than the greatest whore herself.

He debated internally whether to message her, what if that was the last interaction they'd have because Monty said something or did something wrong? He was a bit tipsy, he'd had quite a bit to drink. It couldn't have been that though, she was making moves left right and centre it was incredibly hard to miss. So surely he was doing something right? Maybe he was just overthinking this, he shook his head and went onto their messages and started typing.

monty: where r u?

sent.

He hoped that Jerome didn't scare Carla off. If he did, Jerome would pay. I mean, Jerome had been the one telling Monty to get with Carla in the first place and now he could've ruined all chances of that! Not that Monty actually liked her. No way.

Well, he had a lot of time to think that through because it didn't look like Carla was going to message him anytime soon. He'd blew his chances definetely which sucked.

Although he was still trying to figure out whether he actually liked her or not. I mean, they were both fresh out of a breakup so maybe he was getting the wrong idea? Maybe she just wanted a good friend? It was all so confusing to the ginger, he wanted to know her side so badly.

He checked his notifications: Nothing. He really did fuck up this time.

But, what if it wasn't him that fucked it up? What if it was Jerome? I mean, if he didn't come out and ruin their moment they probably would've kissed! That fucking idiot, Monty was gonna make sure he paid for that.

I mean, it was literally Jerome who told Monty to start talking to Carla and he's just ruined it.

He couldn't just pin it on Jerome though, no. He needed to take responsibility for his actions. Atleast once in a while he had to be the problem, even though his ego didnt want to admit it.

Whatever, it was a stupid idea anyway. Clearly that was a sign from the universe that they were just better off as friends and that was that.

You can't argue with the universe.

You can't argue with fate.

Monty rubbed his temple and tossed his head back in anger. Did he really fuck it up?

It was 10:43, that's past Carla's usual curfew time so she'd most likely had gone home by now. The ginger sighed in defeat and huddled himself into a ball like his friend and tried to sleep, which was near impossible considering the pounding rave music blaring from the living rooms tv speakers.

He had waited long enough for her to text back, he just had to accept the fact he fucked his chance massively with his best friend.

He didn't even know why he was so bothered, he'd never looked at her as more than a friend at all before tonight. She was just someone going through the same thing as him and he'd happened to grow an attatchment, big deal.

The universe had decided that they were destined to be friends, no Romeo and Juliet, no "star-cross'd" lovers; this was it.

Why did it hurt so much to accept? Why did his heart ache to think about her? Why did the world assign him to the gruelling destiny of despair?

He tried and tried to drive the thoughts of the Latina away, but nothing worked. She was everywhere, in every corner of his feeble mind.

He grunted loudly, causing the boy half asleep next to him to groan and turn away, which snapped him back into reality. She's just a stupid fling that didn't work out.

No.

She was more than that.

More than just a stupid fling.

And that's why it hurt so badly.

He cursed himself for being so reckless and accepted the gruelling fate he'd been destined. He turned over to face his best friend and slept next to him.

///

i can feel you all booing me for not updating this in ages 😔 so much has happened. i got with my ex (that lasted 5 WHOLE days) which set me back and then i'm just about to finish holiday and now suddenly he's got appendicities?? sorry??

anyway this is why we like fictional men #iheartmakingboysdramatic #montywouldworshipthegroundcarlawalkedon

ANYWAY once the next chapter is posted it gets interesting so enjoy ☺️☺️