Lockey vs. the Apocalypse by Meadows, Carl (7 ebook reader TXT) 📗

“Fuck you,” I snapped, which made him blanch.

I don’t think he expected such a blunt and aggressive response, which shows he doesn’t really know me at all. I may get flowery and creative with my insults most of the time, but sometimes, the classics are all you really need to get your true feelings across.

He recovered his anger and responded with a snide, “Yeah, well you already did that.”

“And you’re making me fucking regret it, you whiny little bitch,” I hissed, making him blanch again. “It could have been something we both enjoyed, and moved on from like a pair of adults, but you’re acting like an obsessed teenager.” That one visibly stung him, I could see it on his face, but he’d poked the bear, and now the beast was awake.

And pissed.

“Do you think giving me shit about it is going to change my mind?” I demanded. “That acting like a spoiled brat that’s just had his Xbox confiscated is going to sway my opinion and make me see you in the way you want?” I snorted in derision and shook my head. “All you’re fucking doing is making sure it never happens again, in any fashion. We’ve got to live in each other’s pocket for the foreseeable future, so I suggest you put on your big boy pants and suck it up, Isaac. It was one time, we were drunk, and that’s it.” I banged my fist lightly on the table as I said, “that’s it,” just to punctuate the point.

The dickhead was too far gone though. I’d let him stew on it all night and all the things he’d conjured in his mind to say, no matter how fucking stupid, were coming out no matter what.

“So as usual it’s all about you then,” he huffed, not helping his whiny little bitch image in the slightest. “As long as you’re okay, fuck anybody else’s feelings?”

“For fuck’s sake, Isaac!” I stormed in response, my accent thickening as it always does when my temper goes. “Your perception of how things should be, and your personal feelings on the situation are entirely your fucking responsibility! I’ve told you my side, been honest about it, and all you keep doing is respond with childish fucking snapbacks! I’m fucking trying here, Isaac, but you’re making this impossible. This is an open and shut case, and I’m sorry if you’re hurt, but you need to get right with it because this?” I pointed a finger quickly between the two of us. “This is done. It was a one-time thing at a drunken party, and there was no invested emotion on my part. So, whatever you need to do in your own mind to get right with that, please do so, but stop fucking trying to take little malicious bites out of me, okay?”

“So why couldn’t you tell me this yesterday?” he said, his whole body in outraged mode as he folded his arms across his chest and stared back at me defiantly. “Why leave me sitting there for a whole day, avoiding me? Were you ever going to talk, or just hope I’d forget about it? Seems like everything always has to be on your terms.”

Some people don’t know when they’re beaten, and just keep walking back into the punches. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes as I fought for calm, a habit I seem to have picked up from Nate. He does that when fighting for calm, usually when I’m saying words.

“Isaac,” I said slowly through clenched teeth. “We all had fucking hangovers. The last thing I wanted was a confrontation like this when I had a banging head and a mouth that felt like a zombie had taken a necrotic shit in it. This conversation would likely have gone much worse had we both done it when bone tired and hung over.”

“It would have saved me being ignored all day. Instead, you just avoided me…”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” I screamed then, shocking him into silence as my anger boiled over. “Just shut the fuck up. Shut the fuck up! I’ve had enough of this shit. I love a good debate as much as the next person, but this isn’t one, Isaac. This isn’t a debate. Stop fucking attacking me when I’ve been honest.” I jabbed an aggressive finger at him, and swear I was a heartbeat away from punching him in the face. “Acting like a dick doesn’t make yours any bigger, so stop trying to make yourself feel better by tearing me down.”

I can’t do a tombstone voice anywhere near as chilling as Nate’s, but I was at the end of my rope now and I swear, if Isaac had tried just one more whiny snide comment at me, I was going to fucking deck him, right there in the bungalow.

“We’re done,” I hissed like an icy wind. “So, fuck off and leave me alone before I fucking hurt you.”

I think he realised it was no idle threat. He blinked a couple of times in shock, saw my bunching fists, jaw muscles locked, and flaring nostrils, before deciding retreat was now the only sensible option.

Of course, he had to have the last say in our little head-to-head by slamming the door in a huff on his way out.

Pffft. Men.

Actually, that’s not fair. A real man might have been hurt but he wouldn’t have whined and complained like a spurned teenager and thrown barbed comments just to try and “win” the argument. I was honest to a fault, and I can’t do any more than that. I’m not responsible for how someone chooses to feel about me, and certainly not to blame when I don’t meet their expectation. Different versions of us exist in the minds and opinions of everyone that’s ever met us. We can’t control what filter they choose to view us with, so Isaac needs