The Fragile Ordinary(47)

I blushed while Tobias rolled his eyes. “I mean shit from people. Specific people. The guys can be tools. Especially Jimmy and Forrester.”

Jimmy and Peter Forrester were two of Stevie’s crew and one of the reasons I’d been so judgmental of Stevie. They were dipshits. No other word for them. They were bullies who mocked and teased anyone that liked school or was smart, or was different from them in any way.

“True.” Stevie nodded. “They dinnae have tae know. Why no’ tell me, though?”

“Comet wasn’t sure about you,” Tobias said truthfully, embarrassing the hell out of me.

Stevie just laughed when I turned beet red. “Think I’m an arsehole, Comet?”

I shook my head vehemently. “I don’t even know you.”

“So...ye’ve decided to let me be part of yer wee group?” Stevie teased Tobias, but there was a hint of ugliness in his tone—anger, maybe. “Dae I have tae prove myself tae yer wee girlfriend?”

From the darkening of Tobias’s expression I sensed an argument brewing so, quite surprising myself, I jumped in to diffuse it. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Stevie.”

He smirked. “Well, that’s whit they tell us, ay.”

Surprised by his rueful observation I realized quite quickly that Tobias was right. I knew nothing about Stevie Macdonald.

“Whit dae ye two talk aboot, then? When yer hangin’ oot?” Something in his tone suggested he didn’t quite believe us when we said we were just friends. While I squirmed uncomfortably, Tobias just brushed his tone away.

“Stuff.”

“Descriptive.”

I laughed at his sarcasm and he grinned at me.

Tobias huffed. “I don’t know. What do we talk about?”

I shrugged, not wanting to be the focus of attention between the two of them. I’d much rather sit and listen while they chatted.

“Right pair o’ conversationalists you two are, eh.” Stevie snorted. “Yer no daen anythin’ tae convince me that ye are’nae hookin’ up.”

“Life, music, books, TV, movies, random stuff,” Tobias supplied.

“Speakin’ of, Comet, did ye watch that new Netflix horror show? Jimmy wouldnae shut up aboot it and made me watch it. Scared the crap oot o’ me.”

Once again I was taken aback. It seemed incongruous to his reputation that Stevie would admit to being scared of a horror TV show. “I don’t like horror.”

“Aye, me neither,” Stevie agreed, pinching more fries. “Gimme a jailbreak movie or heist flick or porn any day o’ the week. But horror? Nah. Ick.”

Ick?

Tobias’s gaze flew to mine in concern, as if I might be affronted that Stevie said the word porn in front of me. But he had nothing to be worried about. I thought Stevie was funny. To my shock and chagrin.

I giggled, making Stevie grin harder. “Whit kind o’ movies dae ye like, Comet?”

“Stuff you wouldn’t like probably.”

“Like that Mr. Darcy crap?” He wrinkled his nose.

A few weeks ago I might have been offended, but there was actually something kind of charming about the fact that he even knew who Mr. Darcy was. “Yes, actually. You’ve heard of Mr. Darcy?”

“Aye,” he grumbled. “Ma mum has watched that stupid show like a million times.”

I assumed he meant the BBC miniseries. A young Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy.

Yes, please.

“So have I.”

Stevie’s eyes flew to Tobias’s in mock concern. “She’s no’ made ye watch it, has she?”

Tobias reached for a fry, seeming far more relaxed than he’d been just a few minutes ago. He shot his cousin that boyish grin that made my insides turn to mush. “How do you know I don’t want to watch it?”

“You? Watchin’ ponces ponce aroond talking aw posh? Mr. Let’s No’ Go Find Us Some Lassies to Shag but Watch the Football Instead?”

“Stevie,” Tobias warned lightly.

“Sorry, Comet,” Stevie said immediately. “But still...” He turned to me fully. “Does he talk aboot American football as much wi’ you? Because it’s aw he talks aboot wi’ me.”

I shook my head because Tobias rarely talked about it, unless he was telling me a story about his life back in Raleigh.

“Help me oot then. I’ve tried and tried tae get him interested in real football. Help.”

I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t like football.”

Stevie stared at me for a second, just blinking. “Yer lucky yer pretty, Comet, or I’d no be talkin’ tae ye after that. Doesnae like football.” He tutted and shot Tobias a look. “Ye dinnae know whit yer missin’.”

“I’ve played soccer, Stevie. I really do.” Tobias took a swig of his Coke and leaned back, smirking. “It’s got nothing on football. Real football.”

“Ye barely touch the ball wi’ yer feet,” he argued. “Why the fuck dae ye call it football? We actually kick the damn thing. Wi’ these.” He pointed to his feet.

Laughing, I sat back, surprised to find I was enjoying myself listening to Tobias and Stevie tease one another. As the evening wore on I discovered they did it with everything. But it was all good-natured. They seemed to enjoy ribbing each other and trying to get me to take sides with them in every new debate.