“Where the fuck did all my books go?” I queried hastily as I went down on my knees to check if I'd shoved them underneath the bed. I was running late already and I could practically hear Mom yelling my name from the driveway. “Shit. It's not here.”

I straightened back up upon Damien's entrance. He had his uniform on while still barefooted, and his presence was made prominent by the smoke whirling out of his clove cigarette. He spared me a glance. One that informed me immediately that he was the thief.

“Where the hell did you keep my books?” I asked coolly hoping for once we could resolve things amicably. It was going to be the first actual conversation I'd had with him in days.

His eyes roved all over the room, then back to me as though he was trying to comprehend my question. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yes you do. You took my books. Could you please hand them over back to me? I need them for my classes today.”

“Doesn't feel good when someone takes your shit, does it, huh? Well, that makes two of us.” He gave out a small chortle. Bastard.

“I only took one book from you. O-N-E fricking book for less than ten minutes, and I made sure I returned it right back to you, by the way. You took every single textbook I own. There's a little difference there, in case you don't know.”

I couldn't believe I didn't think he'd try and get back at me this way. I'd thought he'd take something else that was precious to me, like my dairy or the fancy, gay magazines I adored.

When he didn't respond, I raced to his room and began searching his drawers frantically. My hand quickly retracted when I stumbled upon a pair of wet, female lingerie. “Ew. Who keeps this kinda stuff in here?”

“You can look in there all day, till the sun goes down,” He commented from his position at the door. “They're not in there. So don't waste your precious time, little bro.”

“You'd better not have them burned, or cummed on!”

“Those were some new, neat books that cost a fortune. I couldn't be that cruel wrecking them even if I wanted.”

“It better be as you have claimed.” I was breathing furiously now, frustrated and about to cry. Goodness, I was so fucked. How on Earth was I going to get through eight hot periods of classes without fucking textbooks? It'd be best I even stayed home.

Damien gave me a once-over, amused by how downcast I looked. “Relax, man. It's just books, not the end of the world. You'll get the them back when I'm ready to give them to you. But right now, I've got a car ride to catch up to. See you at school.” He turned and rushed down the stairs.

I didn't even bother to stop him, cause I knew it'd be fruitless. I called Giordan over on my way to school and explained what happened to him. He told me I could share his books with him since we literally had the same classes. I had to figure out a way to get mine back from Damien before the week ran out.

I got back home from school in a tidal wave of despair. The periods were all the same; boring, long, with the populars making dumb arse jokes and pissing the annoying teachers off. Between my missing textbooks and my actually getting asked out by Matt, I was all caught up in my feelings. This was the guy who'd blackmailed me for days, and even if he'd changed his nefarious ways, which was largely due to the fact that he'd discovered he liked dick and not pussy, I didn't in any way have any romantic feelings towards him. But it was just one date and I hoped he wouldn't make turning him down so bad.

Being the only one at home sucked, so I took out my food and beverages recipe books and began browsing through it. Damien was off attending all the parties in town with the populars and wouldn't be back till midnight. Mom and Flynn were out on a lunch date. It wouldn't hurt to just slink back on the couch and read a bit of Enid Blyton while having ice-cream, right?

Right. And that was why I was till single.

I took out a lot of candies from the kitchen drawers and dumped them into the creamy, chocolate base, ending up with a Snicker, Skittles and Bounty confection. Once it was all set up and ready, I plopped down on the couch and decided against reading cause there was power supply. I took out my PS4 game set and inserted the LEGO SUPERHEROES disk and began playing, taking large dollops from my gigantic bowls at intervals.

The front door slammed, and shortly after, Damien sauntered in. The smoke from his cigarette infiltrated the room, making me to scrumple my face at how torrid it smelt. Ew.

As usual, he ignored me and went straight to the refrigerator, pulling it open and taking out a snack bar. He tore the wrap and had a big bite, savouring it. Then his eyes zeroed in on my ice-cream bowl and he walked over, taking the spoon out of my hand. He placed it in his mouth, devouring a huge dollop while I watched on, surprised and hypnotized by the sight of his lip ring clinking against the spoon's metal. I can't even begin to explain how hot that looked.

“Here.” He handed the spoon back to me, but I shook my head.

“You can have it. I'll go get another one.”

“Okay. Weirdo.”

I went back to the kitchen to get a second spoon and when I returned he'd made himself comfortable on one side of the couch with a second console set up already. “How do you play this shit?” He asked, fiddling with the console controls. I sighed, sitting beside him first then placed the ice-cream bowl between us before launching into a long, tiring explanation of the game. When he understood perfectly, we began playing while still eating from the bowl. Sometimes he'd cuss at the character on screen, sometimes he'd nudge me when he wasn't winning. Sometimes he'd fall off the chair laughing if he did something dumb. Sometimes he'd snatch my console if I was about to win and we'd end up chasing each other round the house.

Needless to say, it was the best game night I'd ever had. When Mom and Flynn got home and saw the messed up state we were in, laughing at practically nothing, and the sour state of the living room, they were surprised. More surprised was Flynn at the sight of Damien laughing. It was that unreal.

I even overhead them whispering. “I think an angel visited.” Flynn had said, eyes wide.

That night, when I got out of the shower with a towel draped loosely round my waist, ready for bed, my phone chimed with a new notification.

I felt the bed dip with his weight when he came in later that night, but I was too far gone to talk to him. The next morning, I found my Calculus and English Lit textbooks underneath my pillow. If this was his version of extending an olive branch, I'd take it.