Chapter 14
Astrid
I can see the faint shadows of the TV dancing from behind the curtains of the living room as I make my way to the front door. Before I gave him hell, I had to first give myself a few seconds to catch my breath , propping my hands on my waist, heaving over, and panting for air like the true couch potato I was. You’d best believe that I ran here. After all, there really was no rest for the wicked. There was especially no rest for the women who found out that their partners had other woman practically throwing themselves at them on a frequent basis and did nothing about it. When my breathing finally returns to a steady enough rhythm, I manage to hurl open the door with one swing. Clearly Theo hadn’t locked the door again, and would be completely fine if an axe-murderer decided to pop in for a flying visit.
“Astrid?” I hear the faint mumble echo from the living room. “You’re back early aren’t you? You said you’d stay an hour at least.”
My pulse was thundering in my chest and all I could see was Red as I gunned straight for him in the other room.
“Whoa. What’s wrong?” he says as he turns away from the sofa and clocks my nail biting, (and inevitable bitch face).
Letting out a throaty laugh, I reply, “Do you really think you have the audacity to ask me that?”
His face contorts into a mixture of confusion and annoyance, “Cut the mind games Astrid and just use your words, I haven’t got time nor patience to figure it out.”
“Just like you haven’t got the time to clean up your shit I see?” I point to the mass of crisp wrappers and crumbs that are currently littering the floor. I knew I was giving tit for tat, but I was so frustrated, I couldn’t help myself.
He shrugs, “I was going to do it later.”
“Ha!” I laugh sarcastically, “It’s always ‘later’ with you. ‘I’ll do the washing later , I’ll do the drying up, later, I’ll tell my partner of 7 years that a girl called Chloe has been blatantly making moves on me but doing nothing to stop her, later .”
His forehead etches into a V shape as he sits up from the sofa, “What are you talking about?”
I shake my head, “Don’t take me for an idiot. I saw her. Well, actually, I felt her. With her slimy hands groping all over your shoulder and spouting sexual innuendos like it was just another day at the office! And before you deny it, Rowan sold you out. Apparently you don’t say anything to try and stop her. So either, you’re completely oblivious to her flirting but then I’d be questioning your intelligence, or you don’t stop her because you like the attention.”
Standing up from his chair and holding out his hands to stop me from continuing, he replies, “Astrid firstly, I don’t fancy Chloe if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t have some weird ulterior motive by not saying anything when she does it. I just don’t want to make a scene. Especially around Billy and Ro.”
That was the most lukewarm explanation I ever heard. “You don’t want to make a scene? If it was the other way around, you know I would openly tell them that I’m with someone. That’s the only appropriate response Theo. She’s only about eighteen, I’m sure she’d cope with the disappointment, it’s a good life lesson for her.”
He crosses his arms and tuts now, “Rowan told her ages ago that we were together.”
“But why didn’t you ?! Don’t you see how suspect this all is? Imagine if the roles were reversed and Yaz was the one to tell a flirtatious guy that I’m taken, whilst I just sit there and do jack shit about it? ”
He raises his arms now, “I’m sorry Astrid. Sorry again for being such a shitty boyfriend as always. Sorry for not doing things exactly to the pre-programmed-Theo schedule you’ve got going on that I’m not aware of. I’m sorry you’re upset and had to find out like that, but I’m not in any way, shape or form, interested in Chloe. I’ve never reciprocated anything, and I never will. The fact I even have to tell you this is ridiculous.”
“Don’t you dare patronize me for having worries.” I respond sharply. “And I’d tell you to sort your act out and go and make it crystal clear that you’re not interested in her, but I’ve already done that favour for you.”
His eyes look frantic as the realisation dawns, “Please don’t tell me you made a scene in front of everyone?!”
I slowly begin to smirk deviously, “I told her that she didn’t need to fill any more cups that already had drinks in, and then I told her to piss off.”
“We’re supposed to be keeping a low-profile! What if the guys have now clocked on?!” he asks through an anxious gulp.
“What, for the first time in our 13 years of knowing one another, that we’ve actually experienced a real life Freaky Friday outside of a movie night? Please. Bold of you to assume they even have the brain cells to comprehend something like that.”
His mouth grows wider, “How long are you planning on keeping up the hate train for them?”
“As long as they keep giving me reasons to.”
Tired from the whole Chloe-war, I’m about to leave the room and call it a night when my attention immediately draws to my work Binders. I was scratching Theo’s back by going on his bender, so it was only fair that he scratched mine. I’d asked him to make a head start on going through some of the lessons that I’d planned ready for my observation on Wednesday. I popped it down on the table and even pulled out the sheets, so they were ready and available for him to revise over. But here they were, still sat in exactly the same place on the coffee table that I left them. They hadn’t moved an inch.
“So?” I ask, pointing to the very-obviously-not-touched sheets, “How did the revision go?”
Let’s see how he worms his way out of this one.
“Uh,” he says, scratching his head and getting his finger entangled in a knot in my hair, “It was okay.”
Liar.
“Cut the bullshit Theo. You haven’t even looked at them have you?!”
Stretching his arms over his head, he replies through a yawn, “I was a bit worried about it initially to be honest. But then I realised, we’ve got until Wednesday. That’s three days away.”
One of the main traits I always adored about Theo was that he was so laid-back that he was practically falling over. Nothing ever seemed to crumble his cookie, or rain on his parade. He was just naturally chilled. He complimented my chaotic brain and inability to refrain from overthinking myself into an oblivion, perfectly. But sometimes, his absolute aloofness astounded me.
“Right, that’s it.” I say, marching over to the table, and switching off the TV with the remote.
“Hey! I was watching that!” he shrieks, pointing to the Black screen.
“And now you’re not.” I smile, picking up the sheets and sitting down next to him on the sofa. “Now, it’s time for some learning. You say about keeping a low profile and not making a scene, well, let’s do the work and ensure that you don’t on Wednesday.”
“I’m not one of your reception kids.” He mumbles, hunching his shoulders.
“You’re right.” I say, the corner of my mouth tipping upwards into a smirk, “but trust me, whether you can teach one is a whole different story.”