I could’ve filled pages with how many times I told myself that.
I fell asleep.
“What do you mean, what?”
“I mean, WHAT?!”
“What? It’s only logic!”
“Well, your logic is incredibly flawed!”
“Oh please, I’m the smart one!”
“No Amy, you’re the GIRL!”
It was precisely half a second before Amethyst jumped on him for being sexist and started hitting him with the nearest object: a Snakes and Ladders board.
“Every… team… needs… a… girl…” Kurt gasped, between laughing and wincing in pain.
Amethyst growled, but calmed down and refrained from trying to knock Kurt’s skeleton to pieces. “Well, if I’m not the smart one, who is? Your grammar is, as you would put it, more worser than a three-year-old, and Martian couldn’t add himself out of a paper bag!”
“I could too!” I moaned groggily.
“Ah, I see you’re awake.” Amy commented.
“Yeah, and I could totally add my way out of a paper bag!”
“What about a… leather bag?”
“Ah, you’ve got me there.” I smirked, sitting up, “So, what’d I miss?”
“Masses.” Amethyst said, “This guy here, Owen? He killed Dennis’s girlfriend.”
“And you only give her the title of Some Man’s Girlfri-” Kurt began, before getting the sexism board again.
“I forgot her name, nimrod!” Amy screamed.
“Oh yeah, and we finished the pizza.” Kurt nodded.
I whined drastically.
“Oh, if it matters that much to you, we can order another! [removed]!” Amy cried.
“Yeah!” I cheered, dashing out of my comfortable position on the sofa and towards the phone.
Ah, the joys of living adult-less.
‘WHO DID THIS!!!?’ roared the TV, re-acting to the most recent murder, and Amy laughed harder from his part-crying, part-yelling expression.
“Owen!” I cheered playfully.
“Wow Kurt, I’m sure they found that very helpful. You nimrod.”
“Shut it.” I retaliated.
Amy and I had had these play-fights continuously since the day we met – wow, that had to be about five years ago, now – and we somehow never ran out of patience or things to say.
“Pizza’s on its way.” Martin nodded, re-entering.
“No, pineapple.” Martin said apologetically, but barely so.
“I hate you.” I said dismissively.
“Yeah, I know.” Martin grinned, throwing any degree of humbleness out of the window. “Can you change the film?” he asked after a while.
“Gladly.” Amy grinned, getting up and kneeling beside the DVD box as if tending to a patient.
The silence was broken by three consecutive knocks at the front door. “You get that, Kurt.” Martin ordered.
“Why? You ordered it.”
“Yeah, so you collect it.”
I sighed and stood up, making my way out of the living room. Martin could be just as persistent as Amy when he wanted to.
“Hey, thanks for-” I shut up quickly as withdrew the tenner in my hand. Because, I’ll put it this way: it wasn’t the pizza guy.
Not unless you counted a girl with bleached hair, a man with one black eye and one gold and a woman with what appeared to be a jet-pack on her back the pizza guy.
“Hey. Would you happen to live here?” enquired the man.
“Right. Would you happen to share residence with anyone with the shot?”
“What- why- what?!”
“Cut to the chase, Derek.” ordered the woman. “You must be Kurt. We know you. Feathers, wings, morphing…”
“What are you t-talking about?” I stuttered a little, because they apparently did know me.
“We know you got wings. Show us ‘em.”
I sighed. “S-sure. Come in.”
Once inside, I removed my brown, probably-too-small hoodie and cautiously let my tawny, feathered wings poke holes through my t-shirt.
“Kurt?” I exclaimed looking through the doorway at Kurt exposing his wings to a bunch of complete strangers. I was shocked, though not for the reason you’d expect. “Kurt, we agreed not to show anyone this!”
He was, as ever, quick to begin an excuse. “Amy, listen, they-”
“Who are they, anyway? You just let them in, and-”
“Quiet.” snapped some woman. “And who we are is none of your concern just yet.”
“Wasn’t there a third?” growled a man with unusual eyes. “Wasn’t this a team of three?”
“Yes. Do you have a leader?” The woman furrowed her brow.
“Yeah. Kind of. Technically. He’s in there.” Kurt choked out, folding his wings back up and cocking his head toward the lounge door.
“Ku-urt…” whined Martin childishly, draping himself over the sofa. “Is the pizza here?”
“Our leader.” Kurt announced pathetically.
Yes, believe it or not, Martin is technically our leader. And for the record, it would totally be me if I didn’t lack charisma. Kurt lacks strategy and genuine wit (not that Martin has much more wit…). I think I would’ve found being leader a little pressuring.
“Huh?” Martin gasped; sitting bolt upright suddenly like we’d stuck a pin into his arm.
“You must be Martin.” said the woman boredly. “You’re the one that can move light?”
I gasped. How the heck did she know?
Martin blinked sternly, but without changing expression, slowly began to glow.
“I thought so.”
After hearing this, Martin let the light surrounding him vanish.
“And finally, we have Amethyst.” I tried to stare her down, but failed pretty awkwardly. “You have the power to blow up objects simply by looking at them.”
“Great.” she said. “I can’t wait to see you try that out.”