Desmond all but slams his bag on the table before letting his huge frame plop into one of the chairs next to Milo.
“Yeah man, show the table who's boss.”
Corey giggles to himself, high out of his mind. Axton, the rugby team's captain, rolls his eyes at Corey's dumb teasing before turning towards his friend.
“What crawled up your ass and died?”
Axton huffs, that signature slight aggression in his voice. Meanwhile Milo is scrolling through some social media app on his phone, half-listening.
The group is sitting in the back row of the lecture hall. The class is about to start any minute. More and more students fill the empty spaces.
“You, that stuck-up cunt, rejected me again.”
Desmond sighs and runs a hand through his long hair.
That's where Milo's interest is piqued. His eyes flicker up to Desmond for a moment before landing back on the social media feed on his phone again. He's barely paying attention to the device in his hand by now.
“This shit is personal now, man. It ain't even ‘bout the fuck anymore.”
The long-haired man continues angrily.
“I've been trying for months! Fucking months!”
Milo snorts and locks his phone, the screen turning black, then looks over at his friend. An amused smile plays on his full lips.
“I bet I could fuck them in a month.”
All it took was one taunting statement for the familiar competitive fire to light up in Desmond's eyes.
“Like hell you could. Not everyone's into that ‘bad boy’ shit you're tryna pull off.”
Desmond retorts, clearly irritated. Milo's smile widens.
“Wanna bet?”
He simply asks, leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden chair with an arrogant smile.
A beat of silence. Then Desmond speaks up again:
“On what?”
And there it is. Milo fucking loves this. There's not one truly boring day with his friends around. All of them are as fucked up as he is. No judgement, no you shouldn't be doing this, no think about the others bullshit. Nah. All of them just do whatever the fuck they want.
“You get however much cash you want if you win. I get to have you play errand boy for a month if I win.”
Milo knows that Desmond doesn't necessarily have the financial means to bet on money. Not that he cares much, honestly. It's not about getting something, it's about winning.
Desmond's eyes light up and he nods before starting to unpack the contents of his bag. Out of the group Desmond is surprisingly one of the few that actually take notes in class.
“Deal.”
He says then, zipping his backpack up again and setting it down.
Not a moment later the guest of the hour steps inside. You are walking towards the empty front rows. What a nerd. Milo tilts his head to one side and watches you for a moment. You're hot for sure. Not necessarily the virgin-type that Desmond usually goes for. But Milo couldn't care less about shit like that. A fuck is a fuck.
Without a second thought Milo gets up from his seat, slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks down the aisle. He unceremoniously puts his backpack down on the table right next to yours, then sits down and looks at you. His lips curve into a charming smile, the scar on the left side stretching slightly.
“What's your favorite food?”
Milo asks randomly, blatantly ignoring the stares he gets from his friends in the back rows. Confusion is written all over your face.
“I gotta know where to take you on our first date.”
Milo explains then and puts his chin on his hand.
“Or are you the type that likes their date decide? I don't mind either.”