"Me, Cyndy and Kev and whoever else we can find, are going out tonight, there's a new band playing at Pump," Harry said. "Do you wanna come?"
"I don't know," I replied. I was damn sure that Neill was going to be in my bed that night. I wanted that to happen as soon as possible. "I'm pretty busy at the moment, heading up to the University Games."
"Oh, come on man," Kevin said. He slung his arm around the girl ('Cyndy'), obviously his latest screw. She was a pretty redhead, but she only looked 18. He was a complete sleaze, but still a good mate. "You always have an excuse like that. What's happened to you? You used to go out every night and have fun with girls and shit. Now, in the last few months, you're turned into an old man, 'Oh no, I can't come out, I'm too busy', 'I'm too tired', 'I've got practice tomorrow', 'I've got a test tomorrow', blah blah blah, you've always got some lame excuse. We're all sick of it."
"Yeah," Harry added for extra effect. "Bring the old Seamus back."
I was about to reply when my phone rang, inside my room. I always had it on loud (except in lectures) in case I had another job coming up. "I'll give it some thought, guys, and talk to you later. I've just got to answer that phone." I went into the room and shut the door behind me, breathing a sigh of relief. It was then that I realized that Liam had skulked off at some point. It disturbed me, stuck in my mind like a barb. He always came and went so quickly, without a sound. It was creepy.
My phone was in the pocket of the jacket I'd discarded. I picked it up and flicked it open. 'Neill' flashed on the screen. "Yeah, it's Seamus," I said.
Neill exploded. His staticky voice screamed into my ear, "That fucking son-of-a-bitch! Do you know what he's done? I'll fucking kill him!"
"Who?" I asked. "Slow down."
"Liam!" Neill shouted. "He called the towing company on me. It was nothing to do with the kitchen staff β they don't even use that service entrance! Get this β he told Greg and Harry that there were problems with the kitcheners, so that I would get a message and get out there in time to see my car going down the road attached to a truck. It's pathetic. Why the hell does he do shit like that?"
"Shite," I said. "Did you stop the towies taking your car?"
"No. The bastards had come all the way here," he spat, sarcastically, "from one block over, so they had to take it to be 'worth-their-while'. Fuck. I couldn't even get my stuff out. And guess what? It's $200 to get it out of the impound lot. Bloody Liam, I'll kill that motherfucker!"
"Where are you now? Do you want me to drive you over to the impound lot?"
"Nah, I'm in Jill's car, we're outside the impound now. I'm gonna fucking kill Liam." The line went dead.
Unfortunately, Ms. Kelley, one of my aging gym-bunnies, had rung me that morning to reschedule her appointment to this afternoon. I left regretfully, a note to Neill on top of his bed. I hoped everything with his car turned out ok.
It was about six by the time I had grabbed a shower and got back to the Hall. I ignored people and slipped quickly down to our floor.
I started to unlock our door, but heard Neill yell from inside, "Door's unlocked!" He had the bass up high on his stereo.
I found him sitting on the floor with his knees up, leaning against his bed. He was wearing the same brown, tweedy, retro-old-man pants he had worn that afternoon, but had changed into a black shirt, which he wore open over his tanned chest. Several empty bourbon-and-coke bottles lay scattered around him, along with a half-full bottle of rum. I also distinctly smelt pot. "Dude, you'd better not set off the fire-alarms again. Liam's pissed us around too much already," I said.
"I put the joint out ages ago. It still smells pretty good though." Neill said. He didn't look up.
I sat down on the floor opposite him, against my bed. "So what happened with your car?"
He looked at me and smiled with pursed lips. His lips might not have looked too happy, but his eyes seemed to have their spark. He brushed his hair off his face, leant over, and switched the stereo off. "It's impounded. If I don't pay their fine, they'll sell it for parts." Suddenly, he smiled properly. "That's the bad news. The good news is I got all my stuff out of it and told them they could sell it. It's a shit car anyway β probably only worth about $300. I don't think they'll get many useful parts off it β it's unwarranted, the undercarriage is all rusty, the clutch is tetchy, the starter-motor plays up all the time and the left rear door doesn't open from the inside. I was sort of waiting for it to die."
"So what are you going to do for a car?"
"Well, I don't like doing this, but I rang up my parents. Mum already knew about the car and she hated me driving it, and, well, I hadn't told Dad what I was driving. They're going to give me a loan for a good secondhand car, which I'll pay back sometime, probably never. I pay for everything I have here, Dad can give me something for once," Neill said. "I'm still pissed at Liam, though. I mean, what is his problem? He's always giving people shit for no reason. He's like a fucking psychopath."
Neill smiled at me again and something quirky happened with his face that looked like an open invitation. He licked his lips and smiled again, then dropped his legs so they were out straight. His shoeless left foot came to rest between my legs.
I smiled and started stroking my own thigh, how I wanted to touch his. I maintained eye contact with him, and licked my lips back. "You haven't done anything to Liam yet, though?" I asked.