Chapter 9: Squabbling Adults

"Mark, my dude!" Evan shouted, "What the fuck was that? Fuck having you outfield; we need you in goal, goddamn. Should've tried out for a top football league club instead of coming here for shitty politics."

"See, Mark." Shaq inputted, turning to Evan, "I've been telling him this all game. Save after save, he's just better. At least... I won't be in goal now, right? Right!?"

Evan shrugged, "I mean, I'm all for it. Better than this bozo letting in two a game."

"Wha-"

"So, Mark? You liked it, right? Come on, you know you did." Evan urged with a stupid smile.

"Ugh, yeah, sure, whatever." Mark said, "Not all the time, though; I barely get any exercise there; it's fucking freezing. Plus, it's boring and not even tiring."

They eventually reached their bags and started removing their football kits as they continued speaking.

"So, how come you were so good today, Mark?" Evan inquired, "Is it because a certain someone is here? Trying to impress the ladies, are we?"

"Shut up, Evan." Mark spoke, exasperated, "You talk more shit than a sewer; you seriously need to get laid, so desperate. You spend more time talking about my... escapades than you do the rugby."

"I reckon he's jealous, yanno." Amir walked over, "Maybe he likes her; I'd be careful, bro; don't wanna lose that fit gal."

"Right... thanks for that, Amir." Mark squinted.

"Fuck you, Amir." Evan coughed, "My last girlfriend was far better than Elise. Bigger tits and a bigger ass."

"Cunt." Mark uttered, "She also had bigger lips. It was all plastic, Evan, absolutely fucking grim. You were literally dating a bimbo; she was stupid as fuck, too. It... suits you, though."

Amir snickered whilst Shaq exhaled, struggling to contain his laughter.

"She... I... fuck you guys. Fucking dickheads, I ain't stupid. I got a scholarship here; I'm pretty fuckin good!" Evan spoke, pushing out his chest.

Amir paused his laughter as he cocked his head, staring at Mark as his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

"Wait... I've got a sports scholarship here." Amir stuttered, "I... that's a stereotype, Mark. I worked my ass off to get the required grades; Coach spent like twenty minutes every session repeating the same shit: Grades equal opportunity or... something like that."

"Did you fuck." Shaq guffawed, "You got into uni with nothing more than your football; your grades ain't worth shit."

"Wha- fuck you! I got good grades."

"Amir... you got shit grades. Do you not remember how mum and dad shouted at you? Ha! What a sight that was; you should have seen him."

"Y-Y-You said you wouldn't mention that to anyone." Amir grimaced, "You... You lot better not tell anyone! I ain't no pussy; I definitely didn't cry."

"What?" Evan's brows rose, "No one said anything about crying; it was only implied, Amir. Now you've just confirmed it, though."

The trio laughed at the youngest, Amir's expression turning a deep red.

"W-What? I was just sayin! I don't want you looking down on me... yanno."

"Ugh, don't worry about it, Amir." Mark comforted, "It's just a joke; it isn't a bad thing to cry; everybody does it."

"Say what you will, Mark." Evan chimed, "But I have never cried; I'm just 'ard like that."

"Didn't you cry when your ex left you?" Shaq frowned, "The bimbo, the one we literally just talked about?"

Amir chuckled as Mark put his arm around Evan's neck and whispered into his ear.

"How noble, taking one for the team, aye? Seems you do have a heart."

"I ain't the leader for no reason." Evan quietly said, "Gotta think about everyone; I'm almost like a dad."

Mark snorted, "A dad? I mean you look like one, what with all your old-man fashion and that big belly."

"Old-man fashion? Big belly? That's so mean. My fashion's fine, and my belly isn't big, I'm just built different, is all. If you'd come play Rugby, Mark, I'd show you my big fuckoff belly." He sighed, "Where's Rob? I can't take this shit; I need some support."

The group overlooked the stands, specifically looking for anyone with handsome features, as Amir found him moments later.

"Is- Isn't that Rob? Far left, talking to the fit gal in a suit. Sheesh, look at those legs, man; skirts are awesome!"

Shaq winced, "Stop being a perv, Amir; our parents brought you up better than that. Although... it is Rob. Who's the girl? Fiancé? What was her name again, Ellie?"

"Pretty sure it was Ellie." Mark said, "But why is she here? Rob mentioned she was pretty shy. Also lived down south, near London if I recall."

"Fuck knows." Evan cocked his head, "Not quite what I expected; thought she had long blonde hair, not that... lesbian-esque short haircut."

"Heh, I'd still fuck her, though." Amir chortled, "Seems rich enough, so who cares about the looks."

Mark shook his head, "Amir... you are grim, mate."

Shaq glanced at his brother, slapping the back of his head as a reprimand.

"Behave yourself, Amir. You're not a teenager; you're nineteen; act like it."

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"Oh... it seems they've noticed we're staring." Evan nervously chuckled.

In retrospect, Mark realised it was highly strange, if not slightly creepy, for four men, two very stocky, to be staring at two people conversing. Considering their size, it was not entirely implausible to think they were here to rob the pair. The way they stood, staring, came off as perhaps more menacing than they thought.

"Erm." Evan rubbed his chin, "Seems we've made it awkward and... he doesn't look particularly pleased. Guess no introduction, then?"

The woman had left Rob as he walked over, an uneasy silence descending as they nervously waited. Reaching them, Rob frowned and spoke with pronounced annoyance.

"Do you lot mind not gawking at us? Is an upper-class lady such an inconceivable sight to you buffoons that you've lost all function?"

"...What?" Everyone stuttered in shock.

"What do you mean lost all function?" Evan snorted, "And an upper-class lady? So that was Ellie, then?"

"No... of course not. Ugh, I have told you guys she is blond; why would she randomly change her hair to brown and cut it low? You guys are morons."

"Erm, Gianna did something similar a year ago..." Shaq spoke.

"So, who is she, then?" Mark asked.

"Mother's secretary; here to pick me up to go somewhere important." Rob answered, "So, likely some kind of stupid event I've got to prepare for. That, or my dad's dead."

"Oh, well, that came out of left field." Shaq said, "Presumed if it wasn't Ellie, then it was one of your maids bringing some bad news or something."

"The only bad news I'd ever get is my dad passing, and that probably needs a few more decades. Suppose that would also mean I'll be running the businesses..."

"You're only young once, Rob." Evan patted his back, "Make the best of it before you're stuck down with children and responsibilities. Could also give us some of the money, too; yanno, in case you're struggling with it all."

"Ain't no one need his money." Amir arrogantly huffed, "At least, not me, anyway. Gonna make all my own money by being a pro footballer, it ain't a dream for me; it's a reality."

Shaq groaned as Rob glanced at the youngest.

"A pro footballer?" Rob mocked, "Nothing but glorified sportsmen. With neither the skills nor the knowledge to make something of themselves most are broke by fifty. Something like thirty-seven per cent?"

"You implying I'll be broke, cunt?"

"Ughhh, fucking chill out, lads." Evan butt in, "Rob, go fuck off; there was no need for that and Amir, stop being such a fucking prick. You two argue over such trivial things."

With the impending scuffle interrupted, Rob huffed and strolled alone to his ride, a shiny black limousine waiting outside the university grounds. Out of earshot of Amir, the nineteen-year-old speaking to Mark, Evan huddled with Shaq.

"You really gotta speak to him, man." Evan whispered, "He's always combative with Rob, and it's getting on my fucking tits. I'll speak to Rob about it; hopefully, he'll apologise and be at least... neutral towards him. But you need to speak to Amir; two sides are needed to make peace."

Shaq exhaled, "Yeah, I got you; he's been moody all night. I'll have a word with him; my bad."

Evan patted his shoulder, "No need to say sorry, Shaq; they're individuals old enough to know better - especially Rob. Do as we agree, and I'll try to... I don't know, organise a dinner or something; try and get them to at least tolerate each other."

"Will do."

With that said, the pair walked back to Mark and Amir with the latter scrolling his phone whilst the former glanced at the duo.

"You two ok?" Shaq questioned.

"Yeah, we've spoken, and he's calmed down." Mark shrugged, "Should probably get going, though. I've got Elise waiting for me, and it's too cold to piss around."

"Fair enough." Shaq gestured to his brother, "Come on, Amir; let's get home; it's getting late."

The siblings strolled off into the frigid darkness, leaving Mark and Evan to exchange their last pleasantries before leaving themselves.

"Right, Mark. See you Monday? That is, if you're feeling alright."

"Yeah, no doubt; I feel fine right now. So I'll see you Monday, have a good weekend Evan."

Evan had a goofy smile, "Yeah, man. See you Monday."