Christian woke up the next morning, wishing he hadn’t.

His head ached so hard his eyeballs throbbed, and made him feel slightly sick. Moving carefully, he managed to turn off the alarm on his phone, telling him it was time to get up and going.

He groaned aloud, then regretted it, because the sound made the pain worse. He had to go to class, feeling like he had slept in someone’s car boot. But he couldn’t miss any more lectures. As it was, he was in danger of falling behind on work, since Eddie had no respect for other people’s schedules, and obviously wasn’t above derailing any study plans for a whole evening.

Christian rolled out of bed gingerly, grabbing his hoodie from the floor and putting it on so he could cover his head with the cap, blocking out as much light as possible. After a moment’s thought, he donned his beanie too. It barely covered his eyes, but it was better than nothing, and he didn’t care if he looked like a shoeless hobo.

Laurel was clattering away in the kitchen, banging cupboard doors louder than necessary, putting her coffee cup down with a clang on the Formica top counter. She glanced at him disdainfully as he went to pour himself coffee, and she looked as ratty as he did, her normally shiny hair in a messy tangle and complexion pale.

“Well, you look like shit.” She remarked.

So it was going to be that kind of morning. Christian didn’t even have the inner strength to sigh.

“Likewise.” He replied.

Laurel let the door of the cupboard bang closed.

“Jeez, Laurel, give it a rest...” he complained, wincing.

“I wasn’t the one who got you wasted. You reap what you sow.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he said. Laurel’s antics were wearing him down, and this morning was the worst morning to be a bitch.

“I mean, that if you invite a degenerate into your home, expect drunken nights and horrible hangovers.” She snapped at him.

“What’s your problem? You’re probably feeling just a shitty as I am. Can’t you turn off the bitch-mode for one morning?” he shot back.

“It wasn’t my friend that got us drunk.” She said waspishly.

Christian rubbed a hand over his eyes, trying to keep out the glaring light and Laurel’s ire. “Firstly, no one held a gun to your head. Secondly, yes, Eddie is my friend. And he could be yours too, if you would just get the stick out of your ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know what, Laurel? It’s ok for people to have friends over. It’s normal to be social.”

“Don’t lecture me on what’s ‘normal’.”

“Yeah, cos you don’t do normal, I forgot.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, why has Jordan yet to see the inside of our flat? Who are you hiding?”

Christian hadn’t meant that to come out. He didn’t even know where the thought had come from. But between the throbbing in his head and Laurel’s early morning cattiness, something had risen to the surface. He instantly regretted it, but still felt annoyed enough that he didn’t apologise, instead returning Laurel’s bitch-face with his own, puffy eyed one.

She threw her uneaten bowl of cereal in the sink so hard it almost broke before stomping to her room and slamming the door.

“Childish.” Christian muttered to himself, but the guilt was already settling in. He turned, picking up his coffee, he saw Brendan blinking blearily at him from the couch, his hair like a rats nest, since he had slept with it tied up. He groaned inwardly, and went to get ready for class before the day got any shittier.

Classes were torture. Christian fought to stay conscious in the morning sessions, and could barely follow a sentence to its end. He managed to get pain relief from the girl sitting next to him in class by lunch time. She noticed his pallid look and guessed what the problem was, and offered him a whole unopened blister pack. He got a bottle of water from the vending machine and drank two tablets without thinking about it. Food would have to wait as his stomach was still roiling.

“Fuck you, Eddie.” He cursed under his breath, as Eddie had predicted.

Jazz had also texted him, and Chris looked at the screen grumpily.

Jazz: Am I gonna see you this week? Thinking of you too much…

Christian didn’t reply, and after lunch another text came.

Jazz: Beginning to think you’re avoiding me…

Christian pushed at his face, trying to rub some inspiration into his brain.

Chris: Sorry, I’m hungover and filled with regret. Tomorrow? Meet in the library, 1:30pm?

Jazz: Great. Can’t wait. ;)

Christian let his head hang back against his chair, and tried to think coherently. The thought of meeting Jazz should be filling him with excitement, but instead he felt inexplicably nervous. Probably a side effect of the hangover that was screwing up his whole day. “Fuck you, Eddie.” He muttered again.

*

Christian was determined to cook that evening, and told Brendan as much. It would be toasted sandwiches made on the skillet, but at least he would be doing it. Bren still insisted on helping though. Christian had only vague recollections of the night before, but there was a hazy sense of warmth and contentment that he now associated with Brendan, and it made him feel tentative. Brendan, though, was the same as ever, humming a little as he moved around Christian to the sink, swearing when he nicked himself while chopping onions.

Laurel still hadn’t bothered to give him the time of day, and Christian didn’t have the strength to attempt at mending that bridge yet. With every misstep he made, Laurel took more work to placate. She never used to be this difficult, but then again, Christian admitted to himself that he hadn’t either. Their friendship had been based on mutual anti-social lifestyles. He felt stung by her attitude but he couldn’t hold it against her.

But the thing was, Laurel was always better at confrontation. Now that she wasn’t the one reaching out first, he felt clumsy and ignorant as to how to make it up between them. All of it took too much energy that day, so he had to be content with letting her cool off, and hoping the next morning would bring some inspiration.

When a knock sounded from the door, both he and Brendan looked around at it. Eddie never knocked, and as far as they knew, they weren’t expecting anyone else. Not that they ever expected Eddie. He just showed up.

But Laurel walked out from her room, in her sweats, and opened the door without hesitation. Beyond it stood a guy, looking like he had stepped out of a college football stock photo catalogue. He leaned down and Laurel stood on her toes to reach him for a kiss.

“Hey, love.” She said.

The stranger grinned and followed her inside, looking a little nervous. Christian and Brendan were still staring. Laurel turned to them, hands on her hips and steeling herself for a challenge.

“Chris, Bren, this is Jordan.” She said. “My boyfriend.”

Jordan nodded pleasantly at them. “Hey.”

“Hey.” They replied in unison.

“I hope you’re making for four.” Laurel said into the silence, her voice tight, but not meeting Christian’s gaze.

Brendan was the first to unfreeze. “Sure thing.” he leaned forward, hand extended. “Nice to meet you. I had no idea my sister was dating.” He said, shooting her a sharp look, which she ignored.

“Yeah. Um. Well, I’ve heard loads about you guys.” Jordan replied awkwardly.

“You have?” Brendan said, taken aback.

“Oh yeah.” Jordan said, sounding like he had heard plenty. Christian could only imagine how much of Laurel’s ranting Jordan had had to endure recently.

They all stood facing each other awkwardly, until Jordan offered to help cook. Brendan was gracious and handed him the butter, and Christian moved away from the counter since it was much too small for three people to be involved and handling knives. Brendan and Jordan immediately started talking sport, and Christian decided he didn’t feel guilty that Brendan ended up cooking again, since he now had a sport buddy.

Christian had only ever seen Jordan once, in passing, but he looked much the same as he had at the welcoming party in August. Still wearing the same football jacket in dark blue and white, dark denims and lace-up Converse. Hair cut close to his head, strong jawline still clean shaven. He would have been a bit difficult to pick out of a line up. He just had that generic jock look about him.

Then he realised that he used to think of Brendan the same way, and now, watching the two of them standing beside each other, he had to admit that that particular fact had changed. They were completely different. When had that happened?

He went to sit down beside Laurel on the couch cautiously and looked at her until she turned to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He said, as sincerely as he could.

She lifted her shoulder in a minuscule shrug. “It’s ok.”

“No I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to push you on this.”

She sighed aloud and watched Jordan chatting amiably to Brendan. “No, you were right. We’ve been dating for six months. I was hiding him, because I was being stupid, or stubborn, or something.” She frowned as she said it. “And I’m sorry too. I was a bitch this morning…”

Christian raised a delicate eyebrow at her and she corrected herself. “Alright, I’ve been a bitch about the whole Eddie thing.”

“No kidding.” Christian murmured looking at his knees.

“Even Jordan commented on it, and he usually just lets me go on and on.”

“Is that why you brought him?”

“No, I brought him because you were right. I just didn’t want to hear it.”

Christian still felt guilty. Jordan was her secret to keep, if she wanted to. Laurel read his face and patted his knee. “It’s ok, Chris. At first, I invited him to spite you. But then he was so happy about it, I think I saw how stupid I was being about the whole thing.”

Jordan and Brendan both laughed loudly at something, acting like they had known each other forever. Laurel watched them with a mix of fondness and trepidation.

“And the reason I’ve been ragging on you about Eddie is because…well, you’ve been different lately.”

Christian looked to her questioning. “Different?”

“Yeah. First you chew me out about Brendan-“

“I did not chew you out.”

“And then you get a number of this random guy I still haven’t met. Then Eddie.” When saying his name, she made a wide, circular motion with her arms, trying to encompass all the weirdness that was Eddie. “And you just sit there taking it all in, like you’ve done it a hundred times. You’re not the same Chris I knew in high school.”

“Or maybe I am, I just didn’t have the chance before. But I hear what you’re saying. I’ve been thinking that lately too.” Christian replied, after thinking on her words. It left a strange, airy feeling in his stomach, to think about himself that way. Like an expectant space. “I kind of like it though.”

She had a sad sort of half-smile. “It’s not that you’re not allowed to change Chris. I just…”

Christian didn’t know how to comfort her. “I’m not changing that much.”

She shook her head. “It’ ok.” She said, but took a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, indicating she wanted a subject change. “So it's sandwiches?”

Christian grimaced. “Uh yeah. Sorry.”

“No problem. Students are supposed to eat badly.” She smiled, then patted his shoulder and got up to join the boys. Christian sighed, feeling inexplicably bereft, like they hadn’t really resolved things properly, but decided it was better than nothing.

Just then, the door opened with a flourish. “Hello, darlings!” Eddie announced himself. Today, his shirt read ‘Nobody knows I’m Gay’.

Chris turned to smile in greeting. Brendan started making more sandwiches. Eddie however, retreated wordlessly from the apartment, only to return twenty minutes later with two more kitchen chairs, roughly the same size as the one they already had but un-matching.

When he settled them around the table, Laurel sighed loudly but said nothing.