School is finally finished for the summer. This school year has been the craziest, most frustrating year of my life, but it was also the most fun. I made new friends, fell in love with someone who doesn't seem to want me back, you know, the usual.

We're all headed to Naomi's for a celebratory barbecue - bring your own drink and drugs. I have a shit load of weed in my bra and a litre of vodka in a brown paper bag.

Emily is strolling beside me, Katie a bit behind, moping a little. She still has slight bruising on her face from that dreaded camping night where Effy attacked her.

Speaking of Effy, she cleared off shortly after we got home from Cook's dad's. That was about a week ago now.

"Do you know who will be there?" I casually ask Emily as we turn the corner onto Naomi's street.

"If you mean Cook, then I'd say he'd most likely be there," Emily smirks, nudging me. "He never misses a chance to get off his head, we know this."

Katie groans from behind us, and picks up her pace so that she's now beside me, the two redheads flanking me. "Why does he always have to fucking come?"

"Because we're friends with him?" I respond, adjusting the bag in my hand so that it's resting in my elbow now.

"Cook hasn't got any friends," Katie laughs. "Especially not after that night. He's really fucked it for himself."

I shrug, not responding. Emily squeezes my arm in order to try comfort me.

"Cook is always forgiven," Emily smiles. "I guarantee you everyone will forget about it as soon as we're all drunk."

"I won't be forgiving or forgetting," Katie mumbles under her breath.

I raise my eyebrows as I exhale heavily through my nostrils, not wanting to deal with Katie today.

"Here we are!" Emily announces with a flourish, and takes the lead going up the path leading to Naomi's front door.

She doesn't knock, as Naomi instructed us to just walk in when we arrive. We file through her cramped house, toward the backdoor.

Naomi and Freddie are both fiddling with the grill, while JJ is opening packets of sausages and rashers and laying them neatly out on a plate nearby.

Naomi waggles her fingers at us in greeting and everyone else says their hello's as we enter the garden.

As I turn around to leave my bottle down, I jump at the sight of Cook, sprawled out on a small foldable camping chair, a joint in his mouth and sunglasses covering his eyes.

"Hi," I mumble, ducking my head to hide my blushing face. I start to hurry toward the grill, to pretend that I'm busy, but Cook reaches out and gently grabs my wrist.

"Stay," he smiles, taking of his glasses and passing me the joint.

I smile sheepishly back at him, as I accept the spliff and take a long pull. I glance around as I pass it back to him. "There's nowhere for me to sit."

"Yes there is," Cook chuckles, motioning toward his crotch. "Right here."

I roll my eyes at him, but I'm considering it. Effy's out of the way, she's god knows where, so I might as well seize the opportunity while I can.

"Fine," I smirk at him, crawling into his lap. "But only because there's nowhere else to sit."

Cook smiles at me softly, the joint resting on his lips. He takes his sunglasses and places them on my head, so that they're resting in my hair.

I giggle and pull them off, strands of my hair getting lightly caught as I do so. I examine the glasses, fiddling with the temples. "Where'd you get these?"

Cook shrugs. "Nicked them off Naom's coffee table."

I shake my head, smiling. "Of course," I chuckle, handing them back to him. "You been here long?"

"Stayed the night, babe," he sighs as he reaches over the side of the chair and retrieves a half empty bottle of vodka. I watch as he unscrews the cap and takes a long slug, before offering it to me.

I put my hand up to decline. "I brought my own," I nod toward the bottle in the brown bag by the sliding glass door. "Are you staying at Naomi's for the summer, then?"

"No clue, love," he admits. "I suppose I'll just be floating around for the next couple months."

The student accommodation that Cook has at the college is only available during the school year, so whenever there's a Christmas or summer holiday, he's homeless, basically.

I pause, pondering, nibbling my thumb nail. "I suppose you could stay at mine for a while if you were really stuck."

"Don't think your brothers would be happy to see me again," he comments, finishing off the joint and flicking it away.

"They wouldn't mind," I say uncertainly. "They aren't home much during summer anyways."

"Thanks, Eve," Cook smiles, his eyes warm.

I gaze back at him for a moment, before breaking eye contact and looking away. I get so flustered when I look at him for too long.

I can feel his gaze burning into me. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer into him. I stiffen for a moment, before softening and cuddling him back.

"This is nice, innit?" Cook comments, looking around at the garden.

I look around as well. Freddie and Naomi are still fiddling with the grill, looking exasperated, while Emily carries out bottles of fizzy tonic water.

JJ's counting the sausages and rashers as if they're about to run away. Katie is hunched over in another fold-up camping chair, taking frequent sips from a bottle of cheap Prosecco. Pandora is sitting on the grass beside her, looking zoned out. She must have arrived when I wasn't paying attention.

"Where's Tommo?" I ask Cook, tearing my gaze off of Pandora and looking at him instead.

"Fucked if I knew," Cook snorts. "Maybe he's fucked off back to the Congo."

I swat him lightly over the head. "Be nice!"

"Why?" Cook protests. "He's not nice to me."

"Thomas is lovely to everyone," I point out. "Just not to you. Because you fucked his girlfriend."

"Fair enough," he chuckles, looking at Pandora. "Now she bangs like a rabbit on coke."

"Shut up!" I laugh, swatting him again, harder this time. "I don't want to hear about your sex experiences."

"Why?" Cook smirks. "You were one of them."

My smile quickly falls off of my face. "So you do remember."

"Of course I remember," he grunts, adjusting himself under me. "I always remember a good shag."

"Fuck off," I mutter, hiding my smile.

"Oi!" Cook shouts. "Where's my fry-up, lads?"

Naomi and Freddie stop what they're doing with the grill and stare at the two of us. They both have the same expression of surprise on their faces at the sight of us.

"Can't get the grill to work," Naomi sighs, tearing her gaze off us and kicking the grill. "Fucking thing."

"You know, you could help us Cook, instead of sitting around," Freddie grunts. "Maybe then you'd get your fry-up."

"Technically, it's not a fry-up," JJ comments. "It's on a grill."

"Whatever," Cook and Freddie say at the same time.

"JJ," Cook calls. "How about you figure it out? You're a genius after all. I wouldn't want to interfere."

"Oh, Cook loves interfering," Freddie mutters, loud enough for us to hear.

I can feel Cook tense up underneath me. I lay my hand on his chest. "Don't," I whisper, searching his eyes. His jaw is clenched.

"Freddie," I say. "Leave it out, would you?"

"Yeah, Freds," Emily chimes in. "It's summer. Lighten up."

Freddie flicks his hair out of his face, eyeballing Cook. "Sorry."

Cook sniffs with distaste in response. I turn to look at him, and as I do, he takes me by surprise by crashing his lips against mine and kissing me.

I waste no time in kissing him back. I can sense the surprised silence coming from everyone, but I ignore it. We just keep kissing.

I adjust myself, my lips still attached to his, so that I'm now straddling him in the rickety chair. He grabs my behind and stands up, still kissing me.

I pull out and look at him as he carries me inside the house. "Where are we going?" I whisper in his ear.

"Bedroom," he whispers back.

My heart skips a beat. "Alright."

-

I press my lips together nervously as I push my key in the lock. Cook is behind me, his hands in his pockets.

We had sex earlier, again. This time more sober. Well, Cook was stoned, but Cook is always stoned.

I take a deep breath before entering my house. I still don't know what exactly to say to my brothers. Milo doesn't like Cook anymore, not after last time he was here. I didn't tell him what happened, but he figured it out by himself.

I turn back to Cook, who is still standing on my doorstep. "Okay, just wait here, and I'll talk-"

I don't get to finish my sentence as Cook darts around me and into the kitchen, where my two brothers are.

I groan. "Cook!" I hiss, rushing after him.

"Alright, lads," Cook beams, leaning against the doorframe. Charlie is staring at him in surprise, while Milo glowers at him.

"I wanted to talk to youse first," I mumble, stepping into the kitchen, defeated.

"Didn't I tell you to stay the fuck away from her?" Milo says quietly to Cook, in a threatening voice.

"Milo, leave it," I mutter. "Cook doesn't have anywhere to stay. You know this. He's already stayed at Naomi's, and he doesn't want to overstay his welcome at hers. So I invited him around here."

"You could've said something earlier, Eve," Charlie sighs, looking between Cook and I. "I don't mind, but you just could've given us some time to prepare."

"Sorry, it was last minute," I shrug, sheepishly looking at the ground.

"S'alright," Chaz smiles awkwardly. "Where will he stay, though?"

"Couch," Milo spits.

"Couch is taken, man," Charlie raises his eyebrows at Milo. "Remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Milo's whole demeanour suddenly shifts. He's grinning now. "Charlie's got a woman coming over."

"Really?" I ask, smiling in surprise. "Who is she?"

"You're not meeting her," Charlie laughs, pushing past Milo to get to the fridge.

"Why not?" Milo and I say in unison.

"Not yet," Charlie mutters, his head now buried in the fridge.

"She's probably really ugly," Milo whispers, grinning.

"I heard that, you twat," Charlie kicks the back of Milo's chair as he pushes the fridge door closed with his elbow. He's carrying butter, cheese and milk.

"Anyways," I divert the conversation back to Cook. "He can stay, right?"

"Yeah, fine by me," Charlie mumbles, reaching for the bread in the cupboard above him.

"Whatever," Milo grunts.

"I know we finished things a bit rocky, Milo," Cook starts. "I won't do any harm. Just need somewhere to sleep."

"No family, no?" Milo asks, not looking at Cook.

"Milo!" I hiss.

"What? It's a valid question," Milo shrugs, leaning back in his chair.

Cook shakes his head firmly. "Dad's a wanker. Mum kicked me out."

"Fair enough," Milo sighs, resting his hands behind his head.

"Look, I'll give you a spliff - for free, if that helps my case," Cook offers, feeling around in his pockets.

Milo stares at him, considering. "Fine," he smiles, slamming his hands on the table. "Alright."

"Right, so," Cook pulls out a chair for himself and plonks himself down, pulling out his supply.

"Sandwiches and tea, everyone?" Charlie says over his shoulder as he flicks the kettle on.

"Yeah go ahead, thanks," Cook mumbles, as he tears a strip of cardboard off his Rizzla packet to make a roach.

"Same here," Milo says, watching Cook intensely, probably hoping to find a mistake in his method.

"Yeah, thanks, Chaz," I smile, sitting in the chair beside Cook.

"You'd better fucking appreciate this, man," Cook says as he drops a nug in his grinder. "This shit is expensive."

"Yeah, it looks good," Milo comments, examining a spare nug on the table. "Where do you find the money for this shit if you don't even have a place to live?"

Cook taps the side of his nose cheekily. "I have my ways."

"Too right, you do," Milo snorts, staring at me as he says this. I avert my gaze and focus on Charlie instead.

"Do you need a hand?" I ask Charlie as he butters multiple slices of bread.

"I'm alright, thanks, love," Charlie responds.

I nod my head and sit back in my chair, watching as Cook sprinkles the weed into the rolling paper on the table.

"Do you need more?" I ask him.

"Think I'm alright," Cook mutters as he concentrates on rolling.

"I have more, if you do need some."

"I know you do," Cook splutters. He looks up from what he's doing to look at Milo. "Your sister keeps her weed in her bra."

I feel myself going red. "Shut up."

"Safe place, I suppose," Milo comments. "How do you know that, Cook?"

I cringe internally. He's walked himself right into this one.

Cook shrugs. "She told me."

Milo nods, eyeing me. "Right."

Cook looks at me from the corner of his eye as he licks the sticky part of the paper to seal the joint. There's a cheeky glint in his eye. "She also showed me."

"Cook!" I punch him in the arm.

"Hey!" He exclaims. "Don't spill my weed."

"You deserve it," I mutter.

"What are we talking about?" Charlie asks as he places plates of cheese sandwiches in front of us.

"Tits," Cook and Milo say at the same time, and then laugh immaturely together.

I bury my face in my hands and groan.

Cook nudges me. "Lighten up, babes," he chuckles. "I'll roll one just for me and you after this, specially, yeah?"

"Fine," I smile shyly at him, receiving a whoop from Milo.

"Flirtation!" He laughs, clapping his hands together.

"Shut up Milo, what are you, fucking twelve?" I laugh, kicking him under the table.

"Ow!" He yelps. "Bitch."

"Hey, mind the fucking tea!" Charlie shouts as he places four mugs on the table.

"Thanks, Charlie," I say warmly as I pull the mug toward me.

"Here you go, mate," Cook hands the finished spliff to Milo.

Milo takes it from him gratefully. "You're forgiven."

"I'm glad," Cook grunts, grabbing the sandwich off his plate and taking a bite.

"This is fucking top, man," he comments through a full mouth.

"No worries," Charlie smiles.

"God, I haven't eaten all day," Cook continues to devour his sandwich as if he was an animal.

"Were you not at a barbecue, no?" Milo asks, sipping his tea.

Cook and I glance at each other.

"They couldn't get the grill to work," I shrug, tearing the crusts off my sandwiches.

I guess we'll never know if they truly did ever end up getting that grill to work.

"You don't eat your crusts?" Cook asks me in disbelief, nodding at the crusts on my plate.

I shake my head. "Too wheaty."

"Weird," he sniffs.

"I'll never understand what you mean by 'too wheaty'" Charlie laughs, stirring his spoon in his mug.

"I'll eat them, if you don't want," Cook offers, pointing at the crusts on my plate.

"Go for it," I push the plate closer to him.

"Thanks, babe."

"Babe," Milo titters under his breath.

"Cook calls everyone babe," I say, leaning back in my chair.

Cook nods his head in agreement as he chews on a crust.

"We lighting this, so?" Milo says, holding up the joint.

"I made that just for you," Cook says. "You don't have to share."

"Nah, I will," Milo argues. "I already smoked a whole one to myself earlier."

"Fair enough," Cook wipes his hand free of crumbs and stands up. "Garden?"

Milo nods, heading towards the back door. "Anyone else?"

Charlie and I shake my head.

"I'm fine, for now," I say, and Charlie murmurs in agreement.

"Alright, your loss," Cook flashes me a grin before disappearing into the garden.

"He's... fun," Charlie comments, his eyebrows raised as he shuffles his mug on the table.

I nod, watching my other brother and Cook at the end of the garden, the orange light of the sun beginning to set, casting a warm glow over them, as they spark their beloved joint.

"So, you're together?" Charlie continues.

I shake my head. "No. I like him, though."

"And he surely likes you back?"

I shrug, not answering.

"He seems like he does."

"He acts like that with everyone," I sigh, staring at the crumbs on my plate.

"Mmm" Charlie hums in agreement. "Seems like the type."

"Cook just has a lot of shit going on," I explain, looking at Charlie. "His head's not in the right place exactly, even though he'd never admit it."

Charlie nods, understanding. "I know his type though. He'll never truly change."

"What do you mean?"

"That reckless behaviour. He'll mature, sure, but he'll never lose that side of him," he shrugs, pressing his lips together.

"I like that side of him," I mumble, running my nail through a crack in the table.

"Just don't let him fuck you over, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, avoiding his gaze. He's fucked me over one too many times already.

"And be careful, tonight, yeah?" Charlie nudges my foot with his under the table. "Don't want any reckless babies running around the place. We've already got Milo."

"Fuck off, Chaz," I giggle, nudging his foot back.

"I'm serious," he drops his playful tone.

"Look, think of this as just me helping out a friend, alright?" I sigh. "Because that's all we are. Friends."

"With benefits," Charlie adds with a high-pitched voice.

I snort. "Shut up."

"And that's his name, yeah? Cook?"

"What do you mean? Obviously that's his name," I titter.

"No, I mean his full name. Cook what?"

"Oh, it's James Cook. Nobody calls him James."

"I see," Charlie nods, taking another sip of tea.

"And who's this girl you're bringing over?" I ask him, placing my elbows on the table and leaning closer to him.

"Her name is Amber. That's all you're getting," Charlie grins, tapping the side of his nose with his finger, imitating Cook.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes, smiling.

We look up as Cook and Milo burst back in this door, now reeking of pure skunky.

"Good chat?" Charlie asks them.

They both nod. "Quite," Cook smiles.

"Cook, man, this shit is brilliant," Milo pats him on the back.

"Only the best," Cook shrugs smugly.

"What now?" Milo shoves his hands in his pockets.

"I need sleep," Cook says, holding out his hand to me.

"I suppose I'd better put the big fucking baby to bed then," I smile, taking his hand and leading him out of the kitchen.

"Night, Cook," Charlie and Milo say in unison.

"Night, lads," Cook shouts back at them as I lead him up the stairs.

When we get to my bedroom, I shut the door behind me and watch as he flops onto my bed, laying on his belly.

"Are you not going to get under the covers?" I ask him.

"Nope," he responds, his voice muffled by my sheets.

"Alright, sleep well, so," I murmur as I go to switch off the light.

"No, stay," he groans.

"Why?"

"Just stay."

"Alright," I mumble, switching off the light and crawling onto the bed beside him.

As soon as I lay my head on my pillow, I feel a wave of tiredness hit me. Cook snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me closer into him, and we fall asleep like that, with me laying in his arms.

Summer will be good, I can feel it.

author's note

this chapter is for all my southern hemisphere bitches, seeing as I'm writing about summer while it's currently December. I would've loved to have done a Christmas chapter, but it only dawned on me on actual Christmas Day, so obviously it was too late, as I'd already gotten the timeline to around summer time.

anyways, for all my Ceve lovers, this ones for u. feels so good to finally write about Eve not being fucked over by old Cooko for a change.

love u don't forget to vote and comment ur opinions !! hope u had a happy holiday :)