It was two days since I had slept with Langdon and I hadn’t spoken to Lad Boy yet. I had a mini panic attack that he would be angry that I slept with one of his best friends, but knew he would tell me if he was upset. Or would he? That’s generally why I find our friendship so easy – it’s very black and white, nothing vague, everything very straightforward.
I knew he had been to a party the night before so I waited until lunchtime to text him.
Dinner and Inbetweeners film later? xx
He was probably at work, so I wasn’t about to stress over lack of an immediate response.
An hour later I stressed a little bit. Maybe he is just hungover and in bed … Maybe he hates me forever. Oh God, what have I done. Facebook message him.
I got onto facebook. He had commented on something half an hour earlier. So he’s alive … I began typing.
Hey mate, get my message earlier? Cinema later? x
Send. I twiddled my thumbs a bit and then casually stalked him. He leads a fairly boring facebook existence so I got bored quickly. I came across a photo of him and Langdon looking like they were about to snog each other. I clicked on Langdon’s name.
Equally boring recent facebook activity. I scrolled through his pictures. You were much fitter a year ago before that beer belly Mr. Langdon. I thought to myself. Ex-girlfriend is distinctly average looking and Lad Boy said that she was a bitch anyway. And he never has a bad word so say about anyone. Questionable taste in women, myself being the point in case. It didn't take much longer to bore myself, but I had started somewhere in the middle of pictures of him and gone in chronological order. His weight gain was well documented. He wasn’t fat, just significantly larger. Maybe it’s all muscle. I laughed to myself, it definitely wasn’t all muscle. I clicked on the back arrow mindlessly until I got to a recent picture with Brix, myself and Langdon. Did I choose wrong? Probably. You always choose wrong. Though the choices are often the problem. Dill or Grey. Al or Dale. Brix or Langdon. All dickheads. Speaking of dickheads, what the fuck? Fucking call me back Lad Boy.
As if my telepathic message had reached him my phone began to ring. I didn’t recognise the number.
‘Hello?’
‘Al-riiiiite?’ Lad Boy said. I didn’t recognise his voice either at first. ‘It’s me. [His name here].’
‘Oh! Hi. What phone are you on?’
‘Spare phone. Lost mine at the party last night.’
‘Knob.’
‘I know. Gutted. I think I know who has it.’
‘Whoever it is they’re not answering.’
‘I know, you don’t think I’ve called it?’
‘I wouldn’t put it past you not to think of that.’
‘Got your message, want to come round for dinner then go to the cinema?’
‘Sure, what time?’
‘Seven-fifteen.’
‘See you then.’
He seemed normal, unbothered. I wondered if he knew. I decided not to worry about it.
At seven-twenty five I knocked on Lad Boy’s door. No answer. I rang him.
‘You’re late.’ I said.
‘You’re late! I said seven-fifteen.’
‘Well, I’ve been he-er-rre since seven-fourteeen.’
‘The singing when you lie is more obvious than the higher octave.’
‘I’m not lying!’ I said, reverting the pitch change.
‘Hello!’ I heard from behind me. I turned around to see Lad Boy waving his phone.
‘Hi there.’
We went inside and I left a trail of my things from the front door to the kitchen. I began making tea and turned around to see Lad Boy staring at me with arms crossed, a curious look on his face.
‘Did you sleep with Langdon?’ Lad Boy asked, squinting his eyes and emphasising each word.
‘Iiiii slepttt in his bed with him.’ I said in a sing-songy, high pitched, lying my face off, voice.
‘You had sex with him!’ He shouted, pointing at me. I gawked, unable to spit out more lies, and he laughed loudly. ‘I knew it!’
‘Whatever.’
‘Do you love him?’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘Is he your boyfriend?’ He asked in a high voice, teasingly. ‘Ohhh, Langdon, I love you.’
‘Fuck off.’ I said, turning back to the tea, laughing.
‘I can’t believe you slept with him.’
‘Really? Because it seemed pretty inevitable from my point of view.’
‘True. He was trying r-eally hard.’
‘I. Know. I think I accidentally tricked him into dating me.’
‘You guys are dating?!’ He shrieked.
‘Nooo, no, no, no. But I might have said something that would suggest that I was only sleeping with him under the stipulation that it happens consistently.’
He laughed. ‘Seems like a fair deal.’
‘I thought so. The exclusivity part of it was kind of shooting myself in the foot a bit.’
He laughed harder. ‘What are you like? Miss “I don’t want a boyfriend, I just want to sleep with the same person all the time”’
‘The two are different.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘They are! Dating involves talking and emotions and all that bollocks.’
‘So basically you just want to fuck?’
‘That is a very vulgar way of putting it. I prefer, I would like to have weekly adult sleepovers with this person.’
Laughing, he shook his head. ‘Right then. The movie is at nine. Ube is coming. Your boyfriend might come.’
‘Millie is coming.’
‘Oh, wicked.’
We went down to the shop and roamed the aisles for ingredients to no dish in particular. Armed with goat’s cheese, tomatoes, spinach and wine we made our way back to his house to rummage through the kitchen for something to add it to.
I drank wine as I watched him boil pasta. My phone began ringing, it was Millie.
‘I think I’m at the station near Lad Boy’s house.’
‘Okay, I’ll come find you.’ I hung up. ‘Be right back.’ I announced, running out the door.
I found Millie and began telling her about Langdon. One of the main reasons I went to find her instead of letting her google map her way to his house was so I could talk about Langdon in a more obsessive way than I would with Lad Boy.
‘He sounds sweet.’ Mille said.
‘No, no I don’t think he is.’ She laughed. ‘I mean, the sex was decent, but afterward I was just lying there, wide awake, thinking, “Why the fuck did I tell him that I wanted to be exclusive?!” I feel like sometimes I just do these things as a social experiment. I mean, it was less than a week since I slept with The Boy. Does that make me a slut?’ I said, biting my lip in feigned worry.
She laughed. ‘Well …’
‘Think carefully about that answer.’ I warned.
‘So, you don’t want to date him?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘But you told him you did?’
‘Yes. Kind of. Not “date” per se, as much as just sleep with all the time.’
‘I see. I wish I had your problems.’
‘You can have them. I’m either sad because a boy doesn’t want me or frantic because too many do want me … that sounds a bit arrogant. When I say “too many” I mean more than one, and I don’t even know if they actually want me. Langdon hasn’t called or anything. He might be coming tonight.’
‘Hm, it would be good to see what he looks like.’
‘He’s alright. Kind of nerd-chic, but muscular as well ... that really told you absolutely nothing about what he looks like.’ She laughed. ‘We’ll see. I’m just a bit apathetic towards it at the moment. I’ve got time. I’ll play it cool.’
‘Have you called or texted him?’
‘I texted him earlier to say “Hey dickhead, we’re going to the cinema at nine if you want to come” because I invited him the other day. He hasn’t replied.’
‘After a romantic proposition like that?’
‘I know, weird, right?’ We laughed and were at Lad Boy’s door. Once inside we finished off the wine, I ate Lad Boy’s concoction that worked somehow, and we left to meet Ube. Langdon did not show.
The film was brilliant. Everyone should go and see The Inbetweeners Movie.
I stayed at Lad Boy’s because we were going to a party together the next day.
We sat in the kitchen on our laptops, drinking coffee and checking emails (and blog comments) the next morning. Unlike Grey, Lad Boy is the most unbothered, least curious boy I know. I could leave my laptop open all day and he’d never touch it, whereas it was almost as if Grey was looking for something in particular. Like naked pictures or an anonymous blog. Grey is the reason things in my life are password protected, like my phone and my computer, though I eventually just deleted all traces of the blog and gave him the passwords to everything when we were dating.
I digress.
I re-read my latest blog post to make sure there were no typos. There were. As I was fixing them Lad Boy’s phone rang.
‘Hel-lo?’ He answered.
‘Oh, hey mate. How’d you get this number?’
‘How the fuck did you get this number?!’ I said, without looking up from my screen and without knowing who it was. Lad Boy laughed.
‘Nah mate I’m at home … Nothing … No, not alone – I’m with your girl-friend.’ I looked up and rolled my eyes at him. He paid no attention. ‘… Yeah right, mate, “forgot” to text her back? Lies.’ He laughed at whatever Langdon replied. ‘… You coming tonight? Oh that’s right, forgot you were seeing her …’ Though showing no physical signs that I was paying attention I was listening to everything. ‘Think you’ll stop by after dinner? … Alright, mate. Talk to you later … Tell her yourself.’ He hung up and I didn’t look up. My apathy and ambivalence was working shockingly well, as whilst normally I would need to know some key information, being, ‘Why didn’t he text me back? Who is he seeing tonight? Is he coming to this party? What did he tell you to tell me?’, I was unbothered about the answers to all of the above. I thought back to the question I had been asking myself, being, ‘Do I actually like Langdon?’ and the answer was clearly, ‘Not that much.’ I gave an internal shrug and went back to proof-reading.
Once I had finished my morning admin I looked up from my computer. ‘Do you ever lie just for shits and giggles?’
‘All the time.’ He answered without looking up. ‘I tell other people’s stories as my own to make myself sound more interesting sometimes.’ He said, thoughtfully, looking out the window before looking back at me.
‘Ok, saddo.’ I laughed.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Just told some ridiculous lies the other night with Langdon.’
He laughed. ‘Like what?’
‘I said that I only sleep with people that I’m dating.’ He laughed harder. ‘I almost exclusively sleep with people that I’m not dating!’
‘This is true.’
‘Remember when we were talking about tactics for getting people to leave in the morning?’
‘I do.’
‘Well I think I found the perfect one, but it will only work on boys.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Just say you want to date them immediately. It’s like reverse psychology. If you make them think you want to be with them, they’ll most likely leave you alone.’
‘Or think that they’re your boyfriend, [my name here].’ I always felt like I was in trouble when he used my name.
‘Actually this ultimatum has backfired a couple times in the recent past. I keep expecting people to say no when I say we have to date or not be together at all.’
‘Why would they say no to that?’ I shrugged. ‘You’re mental.’
‘I know … Can I borrow some clothes for this party?’
‘Sure can.’ He said, closing his laptop. ‘Can I borrow some clothes for this party?’
‘If you fit in my clothes I’ll kill myself.’
He laughed. ‘Fine. Wouldn’t go with the theme anyway.’
‘Sure wouldn’t. Who’s going to be there?’
He gave a laundry list of people, and each one I recognised were some of my favourite people I had met through Lad Boy. ‘Oh, brilliant. This is going to be amazing.’
My lack of anxiety over matters relating to boys was refreshing. Whereas, if armed with the knowledge that a boy I had slept with was taking somebody else out to dinner, most girlfriends would tell me immediately, Lad Boy offered no explanation of anything on the matter, which I had clearly overheard. As if he knew I wasn't bothered enough to care, he just didn't mention it as soon as he had hung up. If asked, I have no doubt he would tell me everything, but there was no need. We rummaged through his closet, throwing clothes around and calling each other massive gays, and I realised that the only thing I had really been bothered about was ruining what I have with Lad Boy, being one of the best friendships I've ever had.
Once dressed we realised we were essentially wearing the same outfit.
‘Twins!’ I yelled.
‘There is no way in hell that I am going out in public in matching outfits with you.’
‘We could be Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber.’
He laughed. ‘Where the fuck do you come up with these things?’
It was a pretty accurate description of the two of us, to be fair.
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