Virile vagabonds! It's been SO LONG since I last updated! Thanks to all who reviewed, like, a year ago. Thumbs (up, naturally) to you all.
CHAPTER FIVE
"Oh yeah. Sorry, Elle, completely forgot to ask him."
I stared.
"You fool!" I cried.
He gasped. "Fool? How dare you!"
I screwed up my face at him.
"Attractive."
I stopped immediately.
"You know," said Gordie loftily, "I do happen to be going over to Chris's house this afternoon. You could come along. Have some eats, hang out, search for any secret shrines in his closet devoted to you, you know, the usual."
It was all I could do to keep from huggling him.
When we got off the bus, we were a block from Chris's place. Tess was with us. I hadn't really wanted her to come, I mean, she really cramps my style. No, I'm kidding. I mean, she would do, but I have little style to speak of. So little, in fact, that it would be near impossible to cramp. Nevertheless, she had just invited herself.
(Earlier on the bus)
ELLE: Where does he live exactly?
GORDIE: Oh, just a bit fur-
TESS: (popping up behind us randomly) What? Who? Chrig?
ELLE: Argh! Don't do that! Why must you always surprise me like that? And why the hell are you calling him Chrig?
TESS: It sounds cute! You could call him Chrigy.
ELLE: Hey, I could! Not.
TESS: No, it would be a tad silly really.
ELLE: Let us never speak of this again.
GORDIE: Elle, this is our stop…
TESS: Come on then! We won't be able to see Chriz if we don't get off now…
She's completely crazy.
Anyway, we got off the bus and started walking towards Chriz's house. Crap! I mean, Chris. Chris Chris Chris Chris.
Later, (we're slow walkers and I had taken off my shoes while trying to teach Gordie the haka) we arrived. It was a bit of a rundown house. The grass was long, and Gordie warned me that there might be broken bottles (he's such a mum) and, taking his advice to heart, I hopped around the lawn on my tippy-toes.
Gordie walked up to the door, pushed it open and popped his head into the hallway. "Chris?"
(Tess was elbowing me and whispering "Little does Gordie know, he only answers to his real name. Which is Chrit." I told her that she only answered to twit. She nodded soberly.)
Chris eventually came to the door, holding a dishtowel in one hand and a glass in the other.
"Hey," he said. "All of you," he added.
"They followed me here, I don't know why," explained Gordie. "I guess it must just be because of my-"
"-body, yeah, I know," Chris said. He looked kind of embarrassed. "Do you guys want to come in?" He was giving Gordie some kind of meaningful look I didn't understand, but he looked adorable doing it, so I grinned cheezily.
At the time, I thought that he just didn't want us to go inside his house. I mean, for all he knew, Tess could have been a kleptomaniac or a hypochondriac or something. In fact, it wouldn't come as a surprise….but, later, after Gordie had explained a few things to me, I realised that he was ashamed of…well. You know. Alcoholic father. All round fucked up life. (Of course, that just made me like Chris even more. As all girls know, nothing makes a guy as special as a past and some problems for us to help him get over.)
"Why don't we go get a burger?" suggested the Gordster. Agreeing, Chris and I leapt upon Chris's reliable stallion and Gordie pulled Tess atop his faithful pony, and together, we galloped off into the sunset, never to be heard of again. They say that sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear our voices, singing (badly) in the rushes next to the old bridge.
Something like that, anyway.
Actually, we got into Chris's terribly CRAP truck (which he loved completely, no idea why or how) and drove off down the road. And when I say drove, I mean putted. And when I say putted, I mean walked, because the bloody thing stopped a few metres down the street, and we had to go the rest of the way by foot.
Eventually, we got to the local restaurant, "Pete's Patties" (which everyone (i.e. just me) called "Pat's Peteys"). It had been a long walk in the scorching sun, and I was dying for something to drink and/or eat.
"I'm dying for something to eat and/or drink," I said. It was a special skill of mine to actually pronounce the "/".
We got a table and made ourselves comfortable. Tess, Gordie and I ordered. While we waited for Chris to make his decision, I noticed that Tess was trying to look at Gordie without him seeing her. Interesting tactic.
Gordie glanced up and smiled at her. "So, Tess," he began. "Hows Bob Jones?"
"Huh?"
"Jonesington. Elle told all about him."
"Really? What did she say?"
"That his nickname wasn't Jonesington. And that he's your current…" Gordie glanced quickly at Chris, who was still debating over the chicken burger and the Hawaiian burger, and whether cost was more important than quality. "…your current mission," he whispered.
"Yes," I said quickly. "Things are going very smoothly."
I elbowed Tess in the ribs. You have to be cruel to be kind. (Of course, this saying only applies to others. If anyone ever tried using it on me, they'd find a pencil up their nostril.)
Tess glared at me, but she's not always an idiot, and she decided to let me explain it what Gordie and I were talking about at a later date.
Then something incredible happened!
Chris ordered.
He chose the cheeseburger.
It was a momentous occasion for all. Tess and I applauded. And he BLUSHED. It was the cutest thing. Nothing could ruin this moment! Well, except for one thing.
And it had just walked in.
TO BE CONTINUED
Ohh. Cliffy. I always hate cliffies, except when I write them. Lol. Please review! Sorry about the rather lamefulness of that chappy, I haven't written this story for yonks and I kind of lost my sense of the story. Poos.
