"Twenty pairs of shorts? What the fuck are you planning on doing with them?"
I snort as Jermaine flashes an exasperated look in my direction. He is a good looking guy, and I cant help but wonder if he is really happy playing the field like he does. It's not like I can ask him either- I'd be branded a dick instantly.
"Because I don't wear the same pair twice, and I'm planning on probably changing them a few times a day, if you get my drift," he smirks, glancing at me from the xbox briefly.
My phone beeped to alert me to a notification. It was Instagram, and Rachel had put something on about a holiday. I frown as I peer at it, but it's so brief I just see the cover of some brochure. My stomach prickles with unease, and I send her a direct message asking what it's about.
Instantly she replies, and I wonder if she was waiting for me to ask.
"Rachel is going on a girls holiday," I say slowly, leaning back into my chair as Jermaine shrugs.
I bite my lip as I text furiously on my phone, suddenly the idea of her going away without me making me uneasy.
"So she won't tell me where she is going," I huff, watching the little dots that told me she was replying to my question. Jermaine seemed to perk up with interest then, even going as far to pause his game.
"No shit? Ice queen."
"Yup. She said to make the distance easier she is going the day after I go, so we are away at the same time."
"Ah well, who gives a shit where she is going?"
Jermaine has lost interest again, staring at the screen as his fingers tap the controller rapidly. I chew on my lip as I gaze thoughtfully at the notice board over my desk, tonnes of photos pinned in randomly of me and the boys, along with some soppy ones of me and Rachel. We had our moments as a couple, but I had to admit I was nervous and a tad worried about her going away with just her friends.
"What if someone spikes her drink?" I mutter, as Jermaine shakes his head.
"You can't live like that, man. What's good for you is good for her, so chill the fuck out."
I knew I wasn't going to get anything more comforting from Jermaine, so I shrug my shoulders and continue to skim through Instagram. We weren't the only ones going away this month- I watched with envy as people uploaded videos of them on the beach, clinking cocktail glasses and doing stupid shit with shot glasses whilst highly pissed.
All part of the fun.
"I've gotta go," Jermaine declares, and I nod quietly. He sighs as he nods at the case on the floor beside my bed.
"Pack condoms. If you don't use them, I will."
Before I can respond he has left, my room still filled with his aftershave. I swear he drank it.
I decide to call Rachel then, and surprisingly, she doesn't answer. I pick up the controller, annoyed that Jermaine hasn't even bothered to shut it down. I click away, sitting back with satisfaction when the screen goes dark, alerting me that the console was finally off. I had a phobia about it overheating and setting my house on fire- not that I'd admit that to anyone.
My anxiety could be a fucker.
I sink onto my bed, checking my phone to see if Rachel had tried calling me back- even though I'd not heard it ring.
I shrug, pulling the tv remote from my bedside table as I yawn, turning my favourite comedians on. I was soon belly laughing as they ripped the shit out of one another verbally, when my phone finally rang.
"Hey baby, sorry I didn't answer."
I waited for an explanation, but it never came. Funny thing was if that was me- there would be hell to pay.
"So why aren't you telling me where you are going?"
I'm aware I sound jealous. She on the other hand, sounds delighted.
"Aw baby. You'll have to wait and see when I check in!"
"Check in?" I repeat with confusion, as she laughs in response.
"Online, you know? Social media?! I'm not going to the moon..."
The conversation continues, and it somehow soon comes back to my holiday destination.
"Theres strip clubs. Dancers that you can pay for sex-"
"Rach. Baby. I'm not gonna pay anyone for sex," I sigh, wondering when she was just going to trust me. I'd never done anything to make her doubt me- not once- yet she constantly treated me like a serial adulterer.
"Whatever. You havent been on a lads holiday before so you don't know. You'll get pissed, and before you know it some girl will be all over you and you'll forget all about me."
I'm silent, because to protest would only make her worse. She doesnt listen when she is like this.
"Then you will carry on hooking up-"
"What about you? You're going somewhere too, right?" I remind her irritably. "I'm not accusing you of shit you won't do am I?"
The argument continues for a good half an hour, and I feel mentally drained as I come off the phone, promising to never, ever cheat on her.
What I fail to understand is why she is even with me if she thinks I'm like that? I know she judges me because of my friends, but I wouldn't do that to her.
I feel a stab of guilt in my stomach as I imagine it, and secretly I wonder what it would be like to be with someone...relaxed. Someone who just let me be me.
But I soon shake my head, knowing that if I was that unhappy I'd have ended the relationship already.