Miles & Bobby, Sunday evening

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Bobby cheers up Miles after the latter's embarrassing day out.


What had started out as a great day full of promise had rapidly degraded into a . . . just decent day, to be honest. Roxy rebuffing Miles was unfortunate and did put a damper on the day, but he couldn't really blame her. It wasn't really her fault. Still, even justifiable rejection stung, so when they got back to the mansion, Miles made a hasty retreat to his room and collapsed face-first onto his bed without even bothering to remove his coat or gloves. He briefly noticed his roommate when he stepped inside, so he weakly raised a hand to wave at him. "Hey, Bobby," he said, his greeting muffled by a mouthful of pillow.

If there was one think his new roommate did well, it was making an interesting entrance, Bobby had decided. "Uh, hey man." He frowned and looked over at Miles, face down into his pillow. "You do know that's your pillow and not a giant marshmallow, right Milesy?" He stopped and rubbed his chin. "Ooh, I wonder if we have marshmallows downstairs for hot chocolate..."

Bobby shook his head and brought himself back to his roommate once again. "Sorry, you were saying... what were you saying? Something wrong buddy?" He got up and plopped himself down on the corner of Miles' bed to better chat with him.

It took an extraordinary effort of will for Miles to turn onto his side so he could actually talk properly. "I'm going to tell you the most embarrassing thing that's happened to me in the last, oh, 3 months. Promise not to laugh."

"Dude, I promise that I'll do my absolute best," Bobby said, holding up his three fingers in a scout's honour gesture. He'd never been in the Boy Scouts but Miles didn't need to know that. He rearranged his legs so they were crossed and he scooted to get more comfortable as he faced his roomie. "What is it, man?" It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay, so you know Roxy Washington, right? What'm I saying, of course you do. Everyone knows her family. They're practically king and queen. Anyway, Roxy and I went out on a date today. She saw me doing some acrobatics in the gym the other day and wanted me to show her parkour. Which I don't like really know anything about but it's easy to fake, you know?"

"She's hot, yeah." Bobby said reflexively when Miles asked if he knew her. He quickly bit his tongue as his roomie went on. "Uh, I mean, she's pretty nice and all. You guys had a date? That's awesome man, nothing embarrassing about that whatsoever." He frowned at parkour, a word he'd heard before but wasn't quite sure what it was exactly. "That's some kinda French cuisine or something, yeah?"

"It's a fancy word for jumping around obstacles. Like pretending that a whole city is your playground. But it's fun. And she's, like, really flexible." Good thing Bobby wasn't a telepath, else, he'd had had a mind-full of Miles's memories of her twisting and contorting her way down Harlem. He finally sat up and shook his head to get his mind back on track. "Pero like, we're on our way back and . . . I kissed her."

"Oh, ok, like those Assassin's Creed videogames!" He'd played those and that shit was badass for sure. "Dude, you are such a goddamn ninja!" He picture Miles doing some of the stuff you could do in those games and grinned. His grin grew more at the flexible comment, then snapped to a surprised expression when the kissing was disclosed. "DUDE. MILESY. NICE." Bobby put his hand out for Miles to high five him, obviously forgetting the whole preamble about this being an embarrassing story, whoops.

"Oh wait, it gets better," Miles said in a tone that suggested no, it absolutely did not get better, it got terrible. Still a high-five was a high-five, and he couldn't leave a bro hanging. "So, like, do you know any of the rumors about Roxy?"

"Not really, no. Wait, I think I saw a tabloid or something at the grocery store that said she's an alien or some such shit?" He didn't really pay attention to such things. and even when he did read or hear gossip like that he didn't retain it for a very long period of time.

Oh, Jesus, Miles was going to have to spell out everything for Bobby. The three words every nominally straight teenage boy dreads hearing were going to leave his lips. "She's a lesbian." He sighed and fell back down onto his bed.

That word he understood, and now his roommate's dilemma all made sense. "She's... like, a l-e-s-b-i-a-n? 'Could you use it in a sentence please?' 'Sure, Roxy is a lesbian', lesbian?" The word was doing that funny thing when you repeat a word over and over and it starts not making sense, so Bobby started wondering if Miles meant what he said he'd meant. "Oh, dude. I, uh." What did you say to someone in that situation?

"Wow." was all that came to mind. Not all that helpful, unfortunately, but at least it wasn't a laugh he figured.

"Right?" Miles followed that flow of nonsense from beginning to end. And the lack of laughter was slightly encouraging. "So, that happened. Obviously, we aren't dating anymore. Or ever. It wasn't ever a date. I just made a huuuuuuge ass of myself in front of the daughter of the biggest and best artists of all time. Aaaand I probably really embarrassed her, too."

"I'm sorry, man, that sucks." Bobby shook his head. "That sucks and blows. Like a lot." He was running out of words to describe it and yet it felt like that only scratched the surface. "You weren't being an ass though, I don't think. You didn't know, so how could you have been? She's ok I bet, probably happens to her a lot or something." Clearly a lot of people didn't know that about Roxy, since Bobby himself didn't before just now.

"And hey, it's not like her folks will ever know either, what's their names again? Papa Mosquito and Smexy Mama or something?" While it was true Bobby wasn't a paragon of pop culture knowledge even he knew that probably wasn't their names but he was trying to make his roomie chuckle and feel better.

It had its desired effect. "Ay, you are so white, Snowman," Miles snorted humorously. Bobby didn't judge, didn't demean, just tried to earn laughter. Miles was happy to pay up. "Papa Libido and Sexy Mutha. If I do one thing by the end of the semester, it's to get you liking good music."

"CHALLENGE ACCEPTED." Bobby exclaimed, then paused for a second. "Wait, does that mean I have bad taste in music?" There weren't that many artists he was into, it was true, as he spent most of his free time on hockey related activities or playing video games. "Whatevs. I'm a blank slate, Milesy. Musically speaking, I mean." he clarified.

"Good, because we can't both be this embarrassing especially in front of girls." Ganke had always been the lamer one to make Miles look better by comparison, and in retrospect, that still must have been pretty awful. Miles hoped for much better luck with Bobby. "Ay, I just hope that Roxy doesn't tell her parents about this. Best case, they write a diss track. Worst case . . . I don't want to think about that."

"Pffft, no worries there bro, the ladies love me!" He hadn't really heard otherwise at least - nor had he ever inquired now that he thought about it - but it was all good. "Nah, they wouldn't do that, but if they did we'd just write our own!" Rapping, how hard could it be, after all? "You can beat box, right? I can drop some sick rhymes if need be."

Miles stared blankly at Bobby. "Never say that again. You sound like Taylor Swift." Despite that, Miles did feel marginally better. Good enough that he could at least finally remove his coat and gloves, and unwind. Which he did by sighing disgruntledly again.

"I know who that is!" Bobby replied, getting that reference. "Dude she's pretty awesome, so I'm gonna take that as a compliment." He nodded matter-of-factly and then suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know what'll cheer you up: some milk and cookies. And hey, if not, you can always accompany me while I go and get some. It's a win-win, yeah?"

A little childish but really who could say no to cookies? Maybe a sleeve or three of Oreos would make him feel less disgusted with himself. "Sure why not? Lead the way, Snowman."