"George, I need to talk."
"Why?"
"Because I have a problem."
George sighed and looked up from his newspaper, giving up.
"Go on?"
Mitchell sat across from him, twitching nervously.
"Oh, just get on with it Mitchell! I'm trying to read about the…" George glanced down at the paper and squinted. "Actually, what the hell am I reading about?"
Mitchell snatched the paper away from George, and he looked scandalised and opened his mouth to say something scathing.
"Me and Annie tried… Tried… We, ah… tried to, ah… Mmm."
George looked completely confused and blinked a few times, waving his hand in the air.
"Tried? Tried what? Salsa? Cooking? Pictionary? What?"
Mitchell cringed slightly, "No. we tried to," he lowered his voice to a whisper and leant forwards across the table. "Have sex."
George's mouth opened slightly and his eyebrows shot up his head.
"Oh, ah right, okay, ah."
He stopped talking and shook his head, trying to stop the stammering. His voice returned to a normal pitch.
"And?"
"And! And! I can't get it up!" Mitchell practically shouted, throwing his arms in the air and then leaning back against the seat. George's eyes widened.
"Oh shit."
Mitchell sighed, "I know."
"You do, ah, fancy her, right?"
"I thought you said no one said 'fancy' anymore?"
"You know what I mean!"
"Of course I do. She's beautiful."
"So what's the issue? Is it… is it because she doesn't have blood anymore?"
Mitchell sighed and looked at the ground, "That's what I was thinking. Maybe… maybe sex isjust a form of seduction for us, predation. Maybe that's all I'm supposed to use it for and that's why."
"You've got… porn, though, haven't you?"
"Well, yeah."
"Same thing, then. Do you… manage then?"
"I haven't in a while, but… yeah."
"Hmm."
George frowned, and stared.
"George, stop looking at me like that. This is awkward enough as it is."
"Sorry."
There was silence.
"What?"
"Hmm?"
"You're thinking something. I can see it in your face."
"I just… I thought you'd be happier, Mitch. Everything's alright, you know? But you're still… not right."
Mitchell looked away, and then stood up, "I better…"
"Mitchell! No. Don't run away. Not this time."
"I… I fucked up, George."
"I did something really, really bad and I don't deserve her."
"Mitchell."
"George, I…"
"Mitchell! I know."
He stared at George.
"It's not hard to guess. Not really."
"And?"
"And…" George sighed, "I don't know. But you're you again now, aren't you? So… So. Things can go back to normal, again? It's just the way things are, now."
Mitchell didn't know how he could be so forgiving. Maybe he wasn't being. Maybe he was being stupid, or selfish. But in the end, he was just George. His best friend in the world. Maybe that's what friendship was, in the end. Just looking beyond the faults.
"I dunno, George."
A key turned in the lock and Mitchell wiped his eyes.
"We can at least try, Mitch. We're gonna have to."