The sound of Charlie snoring, as he lay on his back on the floor of my small room, brought me out of my drunken sleep. I fumbled around to the side of me in the darkness, my hand finding the bedside cabinet. I tapped around on top of it until I found what I was looking for. Without opening my eyes, I placed the cigarette into my mouth, feeling with my tongue for the filter, and sparked up my Zippo. I took a long drag on the cigarette between my dry lips and ran my hand over my bare chest, pushing down my bed sheet as I did so. I was feeling the bruises from the fight Charlie and I had got mixed up in last night. He wasn’t even attending the university, I thought with a laugh. His upbringing meant he had left formal education at eleven. More or less the same time my childhood had left me.

It was strange that we had both been forced to grow up at the same time, but for entirely different reasons.

We had been best mates for as long as I could remember, and the fact that the university I was attending was local, meant he could drive up at least a couple of times a week to see me. Last night though, we had been even worse than usual, from what I remembered. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and tried hard to run the course of events through my mind, but most of the evening was blank. We had always got into scrapes, but this not being able to remember what had happened the next day was getting out of hand. I really needed to reel in my behaviour, sooner rather than later. Although thinking that and doing it, were two very different things. I knew that I would need a fucking good reason to do so. I was treading a destructive path, but for the most part I was enjoying it. I blew another cloud of smoke into the air.

The academic side of university was a doddle.

But it was the compliance side, that was what I was having a major problem with. The rules and regulations that came with having so many young adults together as a community, just generally irritated the hell out of me. I knew they were there to keep everyone safe, but I bucked against them every time I could. Then again, I had been having trouble toeing the line since before I hit puberty.

I was naturally inquisitive my poor mum said, convinced that’s what got her little boy into trouble all the time. My dad just raised his eyebrows at the many knocks that came to our door, and on hearing about the many scrapes I had got myself into.

Once I had left the local grammar school with my straight A’s, much to my parents’ and the school’s relief, I had been at a loss as to what to do. Not wanting to disappoint my poor parents any further, I decided to take on board my dad’s reasoning and had gone to university. He had said that a man who wanted to look after his family needed a job for life. I had a talent for maths and as we lived close enough to the financial district in London he felt sure my talents, given the right honing and academic certification, would get me a good job with prospects. While I had no plans to ever get married and have children, I knew that my urge to protect those I loved was without a doubt the strongest, most all-consuming feeling I had ever felt.

But, prospects? How fucking old did he think I was? At twenty, it sounded boring as hell. But here I was, after yet another good talking to from both of my sisters and my parents.

‘You’ve got to give up that fucking disgusting habit,’ came a deep, rasping voice from the floor. Hearing that, reminded me of all the singing we had done at the various parties we had attended on campus last night.

‘My room,’ I said, as I exhaled another cloud of smoke. I turned my head and squinted at the large shape down on the floor. ‘What time are you going home?’

‘Trying to get rid already, gobshite?’

‘I have some work to do that’s due in Monday.’

‘How long you been sitting on that?’

‘Oh, ya know, just a while.’

‘Yeah, I bet… best you get it done then. I’m enjoying going out on the lash here, I don’t want you being chucked out, not yet. I’m meeting that wild red-haired girl today, you know the one who just loves to suck on my very large cock.’

I reached over and stubbed out my spent cigarette. ‘Well, arsehole, best you get in the fucking shower then, else ya may miss out.’ I was used to women falling all over Charlie, his Irish accent and large muscular body, created from all the years of heavy labouring for his family, seemed to have their knickers disintegrating as soon as they cast their eyes over him.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d had my fair share. Well, probably more than my fair share. We had been pulling girls from a very young age. All I knew was, we had been best mates since we had fought over a girl in reception class at school. Together we had been snotty-nosed kids, hormone-filled teenagers, and now we were seriously fucked-up nearly adults. We had fought together, laughed together, got drunk together, and on occasion fucked girls side by side.

I listened as Charlie stood and made his way the short distance over to my window. I heard as he pulled up the blind, pushed the window open wide, and took in deep gulping breaths. I braced myself for the strong light to hit my closed eyelids. Even though it was the middle of September, the sun was still strong.

‘Shit,’ I exclaimed as the inside of my eyelids turned pink and the pain of being de-hydrated hit my brain. It was like someone had stuck my head in a vice and begun to crank the handle.

‘Yep, that’s what cider will do for ya. Get your arse up. I’m getting in the shower, then I’ll leave you to it. I have a blow job to get to and you, my boy… have homework.’ The bastard left my small single room laughing at his own joke. I sat up in bed admiring the fact that I had managed to sleep with my boots on, once again.

The smell of bacon crept in through the small crack in the doorway and hit the back of my nostrils, it was the remedy my churning stomach needed. I swung my booted feet over the side of my bed and opened my door wide.

‘Katy! Got any going spare?’ I shouted down the corridor outside of my room.

‘No, bugger off,’ came the answer from the communal kitchen.

‘On my way.’ A smile found its way to my mouth. Katy was a rarity here. She had no interest in me whatsoever. In the beginning, I had found that a little weird and had done everything I could to attract her attention. I could have walked around in my boxers with a hard-on for all she cared. I believe, in fact, that I may have tried that once. But she was immune to my awesomeness. I had soon realised though, that she wasn’t immune to Charlie’s, and it had all fallen into place. No one sleeps with the best mate of the one person you’ve got it bad for, it was like an unwritten rule. And for once, a rule that I understood implicitly. Once I realised this, she became more like a surrogate sister to me.

She was funny, took no bullshit, and tried to keep me on the straight and narrow. In fact, she reminded me of both of my sisters, sort of rolled into one. Although we had only been friends for the past year it seemed like she had been in my life for many years. Put that with the fact she was a damn good cook and it was a relationship made in heaven.

I walked out my doorway inhaling and holding my breath, so I could push my hand down inside my belted jeans to adjust my morning wood as I went. Quickly, I ran my other hand through my messed-up hair, trying to make it appear like I hadn’t just rolled out of bed with my boots on. I walked into the warm kitchen, my nostrils open wide as I inhaled the distinct smell of freshly-baked bread.

It could only be my remarkable luck that I shared a flat, and its communal kitchen, with a baker’s daughter.

‘Marry me, Katy?’ I slid my arm around her waist and kissed the top of her colourful head, and at the same time I reached out to take one of the rolls she was stuffing full of crispy bacon. Quick as a flash she rapped me across the knuckles with the fish slice she had been using to serve up the gorgeousness.

‘Ouch.’ I pulled both arms back fast.

‘Wash your hands… I don’t know where the hell they’ve been since I saw you last.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ I mock saluted her.

That was another rule I was prepared to follow, after all bacon was at stake.