Nick flicked on the giant TV and moved some bits around to make the house look tidy. He needed to impress Kyle with how well he had done for himself. But then, how many other twenty-four year olds would Kyle know who had such a large house all to themselves?
Kyle had never been a nice guy in high school; certainly not to Nick anyway. None of the jocks had been anything but smug and entitled, with their unnaturally large muscles and broad physiques at such a young age. It had taken Nick years in the gym to build up his own body since high school, but he would never fit in with the old jock crowd; and he could never forgive them either.
Kyle arrived at the gate and asked to be buzzed in. Nick watched as the car drove slowly up the long, sweeping driveway and, in his head, he imagined how impressed Kyle would probably be right now. When he stepped outside, Kyle was just getting out of his car, looking up at the massive building and immediately holding out his hand to greet Nick as if they were old buddies.
“Nick, my man!” Kyle shouted. “Good to see you dude!” he smiled, shifting his head back up to look at the house. “I can’t believe this is your place! How the fuck did you ever manage it?”
Ever since I moved in with my boyfriend, I've felt a bit different. Can't quite put my finger on it, though.
Hold up, he's baking me something right now. Be right back.
“Ow! Shit! What the hell…?” Joel shouted, turning around to see what had hit him hard on his backside. He could feel the skin on his rear stinging. Whatever it was that had smacked him, his ass hurt like hell! But as he looked around, he couldn’t see anyone there in the moonlit garden. “Shit!” he moaned again, rubbing his butt, hardly believing that it was still hurting so much.
“What’s the matter?” Harry drunkenly asked, walking into the garden himself, chuckling from his friend’s unknown misfortune. “Ow! SHIT!” he blasted himself a moment later. “Who the fuck was that?”
“Argh! Fuck me!” blasted Danny, as he too followed them both. Joel could just make him out, standing there on the path, rubbing his own rear. “What the fuck is going on?” He ripped his cell phone from his pocket, letting the screen light up and cast a dim glow on the garden as the boys all came together, back on the path.
There, standing in front of them, was an older, stern-looking woman, staring up angrily. She held a walking stick in her hand and the boys immediately knew that that was clearly the source of their current discomfort.