Bakura returned to his flat, where Ryou was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book and drinking tea.
" 'Ello Bakura." he said. "So when is your date tonight?"
"How the bloody hell do you know about that?" Bakura exclaimed, nearly spilling a cup of hot tea on himself.
"Marik texted me." Ryou said, holding up his IPhone. Bakura had given it to him on his birthday and regretted it ever since.
"The bastard. Remind me to rip his fluffy Egyptian head off next time I see him."
"Hey, who knows, maybe you and Storm will actually hit it off."
"I doubt it. She seems kind of creepy, and that's coming from me."
"Just give her a shot, Bakura. You can find love where you least expect it."
"Oh, shut up Ryou. You're just lovesick because you're dating that gymnast. What was her name? Monica? Morticia?"
"MELISSA!" Ryou shouted. "Her name is Melissa, and she's not a gymnast, she's a cheerleader!"
Bakura rolled his eyes and stalked off into his room to pick out what he would wear on his date. God, how he hated that word. Date.