Your love life is about as sad as the contents of my fridge

I have just closed the door to the cab when my phone rings in my pocket, a loud obnoxious sound in the confines of the car. Sighing, I pull it out and see my best friend's name flash across the screen.

"Reid," I answer wearily, not prepared for his off-beat sense of humour this morning. Reid and I have been friends since we were kids, and I honestly couldn't have survived the past couple of years without him. But, he seems to take a little too much joy in my pain and I can just imagine the field day he will have as soon as he finds out about what happened with Alexa.

"A little birdy tells me you didn't come home last night," he says in a sing song voice, sounding far too energetic for so early on a Saturday.

What ever happened to hello?

"It's a long story," I hedge, prolonging the inevitable. I tell Reid everything, and the events of last night will be no exception. But, I need some time to sort through everything in my head before I divulge. "Where are you?"

"Sitting at your kitchen table," he tells me happily. I should have known, Reid's always been a morning person; one of those people who rolls out of bed in a good mood, ready to start their day. "Watching Aiden make me eggs. I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while and I was hungry."

Typical. My brother makes eggs for my friend, but never for me.

"I'll be there in five." I hang up the phone before he can start teasing me and focus on the road ahead.

When we reach my house, I hand over some change to the driver and get out the cab. The cold from the ground seeps into my feet through my thin socks. The pathway is edged with grass that is way over due for a cut. The house itself looks like it needs a new coat of paint. One of the panes in the downstairs living room window is cracked.

It's a mess, but I'll get there eventually.

"Well if it isn't Casanova himself!" Reid exclaims as soon as I walk into the kitchen. "So nice of you to join us for breakfast!" He gestures down to his half eaten meal, knocking over the salt shaker as he does so.

"What happened to you?" Aiden asks, still standing by the stove, spatula in hand. The smell of burnt toast permeates the kitchen and the sizzling of the oil in the pan makes my mouth water.

"Any chance I can get some food too?" I try, knowing that it's unlikely.

Just as I suspected, Aiden plates his eggs and sits down at the kitchen table. "Make your own."

Asshole.

"So, where are your shoes?" Reid asks around a mouthful of toast as he looks pointedly at my sock-clad feet. "I'm assuming under some unlucky lady's bed?"

"You would be assuming wrong," I point out and busy myself with spreading butter on some leftover toast, feeling way too lazy to make eggs. No matter how good they smell.

"You're probably right," Reid concedes. "After all, your love life is about as sad as the contents of my fridge."

Aiden snorts with laughter at Reid's remark and then quickly tries to cover it up with a cough when he sees my facial expression. Reid meets my glare with a steady gaze and cheeky grin, taking another bite of his toast and crunching loudly.

"I wouldn't talk, jackass," I mutter, finally sitting down at the table to join them. I turn to Aiden, with my heart in my throat. "How's dad?"

Now that I'm home, I realise I should never have left him and Aiden alone for a whole night. What if something had happened while I was gone? Deep down I know that if that was the case, Aiden would have phoned me and if dad was ill or in pain, Aiden wouldn't be making jokes at my expense and seeming so relaxed this morning.

But worry is a weight that's constantly attached to my shoulders. It never truly goes away.

"He's good today." Aiden waves his hand dismissively with a smile on his face and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Now tell us what happened."

Knowing I can't avoid it any longer, I start telling them about my night. From meeting Alexa, to her blowing chunks all over my shoes, and finishing off with the walk we went on this morning. My story is clearly better than they both expected if their matching gleeful smiles are anything to go by.

"Is she hot?" is all Reid wants to know when I finish recounting my tale. Aiden's too busy laughing at the fact that she threw up on me to make any comments.

I'm going to regret telling them about that.

I think of Alexa's raven hair and her dark mahogany eyes. I can't forget the way her soft skin felt under my fingertips or her blinding smile that I first noticed from across the room. "Yeah, she really is."

"Well, I knew you were bad with women, but I didn't know that you were so bad you made them throw up on you." Reid chortles, clearly enjoying my story far too much.

"That was weak Reid," I mutter darkly.

"It's early," he defends. "Give me some time and I will come up with something better. One thing's for sure. I'm never going to let you forget this."

That's exactly what I was afraid of.

"Are you going to call her?" Aiden suddenly asks, finally calming down enough to actually talk.

I was hoping that they would drop the subject, but they seem intent on discussing it further. "Nope."

"Why the hell not?" Reid sprays me with crumbs as he talks with his mouth full. He grins apologetically but raises an eyebrow as he waits for my response.

"I can't bring a girl into all this." I take a bite of my toast and crunch it thoughtfully. "Besides, she probably wouldn't want to get involved with me."

"You never know unless you try," he points out, patting my hand solemnly and looking serious for a rare moment. "Dev, love is like a slap in the face. Sometimes it comes when you least expect it. Other times, you're just looking for trouble."

I scoff at Reid's comparison, watching in annoyance as he bursts into laughter at his own saying. Reid studied journalism and he's always coming up with these 'gems' as he likes to call them.

"Don't you have your own house to have breakfast in?" I ask, hoping it will shut him up. It feels way too early for this discussion.

In all honesty, Reid's place is much nicer than ours; a studio flat that he lives in by himself. When we were teenagers we made a deal to get an apartment together as soon as we finished college. But, when my dad got ill and I dropped out, I backed out of it, knowing I needed to be here to take care of him. Sometimes I feel as though I may as well ask Reid to move in here, since he spends the majority of his time in our house.

Though he would never admit it, I know his constant presence is because he just wants to help us. He spends a lot of his time with my dad, attempting to cheer him up and sometimes even taking him to his chemotherapy. When I'm too tired, or too busy, Reid steps up and does our grocery shopping for us. More than once I've caught him trying to sneak money into our savings jar.

He may have a terrible sense of humour and enjoy teasing me too much, but he's like a brother to me and the best friend I could have asked for. He's been our saving grace through all of this.

"Maybe," he answers, wiping his hands on his jeans. "But, I thought hell had frozen over and you had actually gotten lucky last night. Turns out you're worse with girls than me, though. And that's saying something." He laughs loudly again with Aiden joining in, the two of them bonding over my pain.

"Shut up, dick."

"What are you going to do?" he challenges. "Throw up on me?"

"Bastard."

☆

By the time Reid has left, trailing breadcrumbs all over the floor, half the morning is already gone. Reid may be helpful in all other areas, but the one thing he never does is clean. The house always looks like a bomb site after he leaves it and I've long since given up reminding him that we don't have a dishwasher.

I leave Aiden on clean up duty, after all, he's the one who made the most mess, and trudge towards my father's room. I peek in to see him awake and propped up on his pillows, an empty tray on the floor by his bed, the remains of his breakfast on a plate.

I am grateful that Aiden at least made him something to eat earlier. Though I make a note to take down the dishes when I leave.

"Hey dad, how are you feeling?" I push the door open fully and pull up the chair next to his bed.

"Like sunshine and rainbows, son," he answers with a bright smile. "Unicorns and marshmallows."

It's nice to know that even after all the treatment he has been through he is still capable of making jokes.

One and a half years ago, when my dad was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, it felt like the world had crumbled from beneath my feet. I remember the doctor telling us that it was rare for him to have that type of cancer, as it usually occurred in children and young adults.

Rare, but not impossible.

When dad started complaining about severe leg pains, we honestly didn't know what to think. But when the aches continued and the swelling started, we knew there was something very seriously wrong.

Numerous scans and a biopsy confirmed our worst fears.

But, as Dr Harper likes to constantly remind us, chemotherapy and radiation treatment are available to us in this day and age, not to mention the limb salvage surgery he recently had. But, it's still hard to see him like this, stripped down to a shell of the man he used to be, unable to work or even walk properly.

As my mom took off just after Aiden was born, there was no one left to help us. So I dropped out of college, where I had been trying to get my degree in Business Studies, and began looking for work.

The job I had before, as a cashier in a supermarket, had been better hours but a hell of a lot less pay than working for Tall-Oaks. Plus, my boss then had been a jackass. Chase is pretty awesome.

"I was thinking more chocolate chips and rainbow sprinkles," I counter, grinning at my dad's high spirits this morning. Some days he can barely manage a smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't come with you yesterday."

"Don't worry about it, Aiden and I do just fine on our own. Although, he does get a bit jealous that I get to roll around in that snazzy wheelchair and he has to walk." He gestures towards his wheelchair tucked safely in the corner. It's second hand, the padding on the handles is worn away in places and the steel on the sides is slightly scuffed. But it works, and that's all that matters.

I snort. "I have to admit, I'm jealous too." I pause, about to say something about Alexa. I want to tell someone about her, someone that won't just tease me about the fact that she puked on me. But, my dad speaks before I have the chance too.

"As you should be, Devon. Now, what's this message I got from Reid." He points to the phone on his bedside table with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "About a girl throwing up on you?"

Reid Jameson, I hope you have written your will, you bastard.