Chapter 4: Oh, These Friends of Mine

Elise came out seconds later, her pretty face abruptly showing in front of his own as he complained at the growing ache. She stood opposite him, inquiringly, as her head reached his neck, her complexion the same colour as his own but natural. He shook himself out of his thoughts as the woman rose her eyebrow.

"Sorry... was just lost in my thoughts." Mark groaned.

"Mhm. I can tell." Elise replied, "Didn't think that could happen to you, imagine... you... thinking!"

They laughed as he playfully replied, "Fuck you."

Both journeyed towards the canteen, passing a fair amount of students, even a contingent from Morocco, to their surprise. It didn't take long to arrive, roughly three minutes to cross the hallways, the room being in the same building. Then, once they arrive, they would have the inevitable thirty-minute wait for Evan, the always late maestro.

Getting to the cafeteria, Mark swivelled his head around, looking for a familiar and incredibly recognisable big bush. It took a few seconds before Shaq's afro was spotted, the haircut so tall it could be seen from miles around, like a beacon in the night. He lightly nudged Elise in the direction of the afroed figure, both casually strolling over to the dark-skinned man.

The room was relatively big and was quite a fancy sight, outfitted and built with the newest technology and architectural designs. Mostly white, seemingly a favourite of the owner, they walked across the sectioned slabs before appearing before their friend.

"Hey, Shaq." Mark greeted, "Your afro, man... I can see it from so far away. Honestly, I'm still of the opinion you should have it like Caleb Strong. God, you would look fuckin sick with that hairdo."

The duo sat down, Elise glancing outside the tall glass windows giving a pleasant and well-lit outdoor view onto the frosty university grounds. She turned back to Shaq as he gave an amused reply.

"Bro, do you have any idea how long that would take to cut? The pain? The torture? Bah! It grows, quickly, anyway. And who wants to look like Caleb Strong? I ain't gonna imitate some B-Tier celebrity."

Mark was taken aback, "What do you mean B-tier celebrity? Say that again! Caleb Strong is a fucking master actor; he just hasn't had his breakthrough yet. Haven't you seen him in Day of the Dead? God, he was the centrepiece of that movie. Forget Jeremy Stillwater or Jennifer Connolly; Caleb is the GOAT of acting."

"Mark... you are delusional." Shaq chuckled, his tall and stocky frame shaking, "Elise, I cannot believe you are still fucking around with this dumbass. Surely you could... I don't know, get with someone with more taste? Like comedy or action instead of his shitty horror films?"

She laughed as Mark gaped, "Hmm, I don't know, Shaq... I kinda like his horror films. They have... grown on me."

Bashfully smiling, she giggled as the big rugby player dramatically shook his head, puffing out the air in exasperation.

"Lord, give me strength. Elise, really? You've joined him? I actually can't believe you've been converted; now you're practically made for each other." He sighed overdramatically, "I can't win on this. Are you coming to the game tonight, then?"

He finished his protein-rich yoghurt as she replied.

"Yep. I'm just hoping it doesn't rain or snow like last time. The forecast yesterday said there was a 60% chance, so... not great." Her eyes flashed with excitement, "Either way, I'm heading to Mark's place after."

"Oi, oi. It's like you're trying to rub it in!" Shaq huffed, "I can't wait till Gianna gets back. It's been two weeks without her, and I'm already tired of using my hand. I've got no idea how I got through secondary."

"Oh... my fucking god." Elise winced, "You are grim, Shaq. I did not want to know about that information."

The man shrugged, uncaringly, as Elise turned towards her partner, frowning, "You're being awfully quiet today, Mark. You talked a lot during the debate. You ok?"

"Heh, you're one to talk." Mark said, "Spitting out opinion after opinion, I swear you caused half of the tension. But... yeah, I'm good. Just have a bit of a headache, a bit fatigued. Give it an hour, and I'll be fine and dandy."

"You better be." A gruff voice spoke, "We got a game tonight, and I'd rather not lose four nil to some randos."

As all three turned to the newcomers, they were greeted by the sight of two very stocky individuals. The speaker was a Caucasian man with stubble around his face and long, brown scraggy hair, giving him a rugged and uncouth look which aptly fit his voice. He wore a tight-fitted shirt, shorts and plain trainers, combining in a bewildering sight of unpopular fashion. If someone were to say he came out of the Stone Age, Mark would not disagree.

The other man could be described as the opposite, a high-born gentleman, through and through. Clean-shaven, slick-backed black hair with a handsome white face to match. Dressed in a full-piece suit, it often surprised people that he dresses that way to-and-from rugby practice, not some million-dollar investment meeting.

"Heaven forbid we lose, Evan!" Mark said, sarcasm dripping from his every word, "Our reputation would be... in tatters! All the glory of Leicester University lost just like that! Oh my, what should we do?"

"Indeed, I know, I know. It would truly, be awful." Evan replied with the same tone of sarcasm, "I wonder who the historians would blame when looking at it in the history books. I do truly ponder."

"History books?" Shaq questioned, "Bro, what the fuck have you been smoking. If the game is that important, I can't be having such a life-changing event without Gianna on the sidelines there'll... be no motivation. Who will picture me in my moment of glory when I've won the game for you losers?"

The suited man fidgeted in his seat, aggressively muttering, "Damn chair!" He glanced at Shaq, "How will you win the game when you are in goal, Shaq? And you're like a dying fish without water; that's like what; the fortieth time, in two days, you've mentioned her? I know she likes to brag about how much you guys get it on, but-"

"Oh, come on, man." Shaq cringed, "Why you gotta mention all that shit she tells you guys? It's supposed to be behind closed doors. Private! Ain't nobody ever tell you guys that?"

"You say that, yet, Gianna doesn't keep quiet. Not in bed either, from what I hear!" Said Evan, the table erupting into laughter as Shaq grimaced.

"Ey, fuck you, bro. Put me up in striker later, and I'll show all you fuckers how it's done!"

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see." Evan replied, waving him off.

The conversation died down momentarily, turning to conversations about the university, Rob's love life and everything in between. Evan grunted, glancing at his watch.

"Right." The built rugby player said, "Shall we decide who wants to play where? We do also still need a fifth to play, otherwise, we are going to forfeit. So, we decide who plays where and then find someone to fit the final position. Push comes to shove, we'll just get Shaq's brother in. So, anyone for takers to be in goal?" Silence, "Oh, come on, guys. It ain't that bad. Shaq?"

"Bro, fuck you, Evan. Why you always look at me? It's always me. Can't I play upfront for a change, or at least in front of goal? I said I'll show you what I'm all about."

"Ok, fine, fine." Evan backtracked, "What do you want then? Defence? I gotta be honest, dude; your goal-scoring abilities are... pretty shit."

Shaq thumbed up as he drank from a bottle, ignoring the jab as Evan moved on, "Right, so that's Shaq done. You fine with being in goal, Mark? You ain't looking too good; I doubt that'll be great for your already shite dribbling skills."

Mark frowned, "Rude arsehole. But, yeah, that's good with me."

"Great! Me and Rob spoke on the way here, and we'll both be in the midfield. Now, we just need to find someone upfront. Anyone got someone, or do we have to pick Rob's nemesis?"

"Oh?" Shaq chirped, "The two lovebirds in midfield? What a coincidence. You were thirty minutes late, and both had a shower. I wonder what you were up to? Anything spicy?"

Elise laughed, "I think, very spicy."

"Seriously?" Rob stated, his expression perplexed, "The joke is still ongoing? It's been two years, and you're still keeping it up. It's not our fault you didn't want to shower, Shaq. I'll also have you know, me and my fiancé's sex life is very heterosexual... I can't say the same about Evan, though."

"Huh? What? Fuck you, Rob. What a betrayal." Evan groaned, "I can't believe you've done this. I will have you all know I'm as straight as a lamppost. Plus, what's wrong with being gay? You're not all homophobic or from Aaban, are you? Might have to cancel you online if you are."

"You... do realise a lamppost bends at the top, right?" Elise grinned, "So you'd be like, I don't know, bi or something. Are you bi? Is this you coming out to us? We are honoured you trust us this much."

"H- How has this turned against me? We were talking about football. My sexual leanings are none of your concern, and I'm straight! So, does anything have someone to be our fifth, or do we need Amir?"

"Just get Shaq's brother. He's like, what? Eighteen? Nineteen?" Mark asked.

"Nineteen." Shaq replied.

"That's good enough for me. I am not going through all my contacts to find someone for five-a-side football. You should have organised this beforehand, Evan. This is why Rob does it."

"Well, Mark." Evan emphasised, "It's not my fault Rob didn't respond yesterday. Too busy doing etiquette lessons or... whatever rich people do."

"What?" Rob uttered, "I did etiquette lessons years ago. It was shooting, actually. My father was going over the subtleties of high-born society again, something you wouldn't know about, and thought it would be a good-"

"Etiquette, horse riding, shooting. They're all the same fucking thing. Rich people stuff." Evan interrupted, "Anyways, Shaq, if you could let your brother know he is wanted, that would be good. Other than that, I think our little meeting is adjourned. I've got a class in five, so I'm off! See you guys at the game!"

Saying what he wanted to say, Evan practically sprinted away - late as usual. Rob and Shaq exchanged some pleasantries before they went off to get things done. Mark rubbed his face; the room nice and warm, but his headache was getting progressively worse.

"I better head home, Elise. I think it'd be worth spending a few hours in bed before the game. Hopefully, I should be feeling up for it later. Don't wanna let the boys down."

"I hope so." She placed her hand on his forehead, "It sure would be a shame if your little headache interrupts our fun later tonight."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I'll be fine, seriously. Just need a rest, and I'll be rearing to go for both activities."

Her dimpled smile on full display, she chuckled as she let him walk away, sitting back down and relaxing before rolling her eyes at the work she had to do.