Ken & Freddy

The smell of chips wafts through the air as I stand in the corner of the crowded restaurant, waiting for my order. I glance down at the receipt, trying not to act like a school kid at the words "Order 66" printed at the top. My mate Freddy has number 69. We're almost 26 and snickering in silent glee at the childish joke. 

"Dude, did I tell you I went out with Bex last night?" Freddy asks, leaning casually against the counter.

"Nah, you didn't. How'd it go?" I reply, still smirking at our receipt numbers.

"It was good. We went to Spoons." 

"Cool."

"Yeah, watched the footie, played a game of pool, then back to mine."

"Nice. You seeing her again?"

"God, yeah. She wants to meet at the weekend."

"Oh, sweet. She's a lovely girl."

"Yeah, she is." Freddy gets lost in thought for a moment. "She really is. How about you?"

"Me? What about me?"

"Anyone catch your eye? Any dates you haven't told me about?"

"I mean, not really. I don't think I'm interested in dating."

"Fair enough."

"Yeah, I don't know. It's not something I've really been thinking about." I smile at Freddy with a shrug. "Maybe one day."

"Or maybe not. Which is totally valid. Our Tamsin is asexual. Got herself a black ring to wear."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She's happier now than she's ever been."

"Oh." 

"Yeah. She told me about it the other night. Was all worried about telling me. I don't know why. She thought I might disown her, or try to 'cure her'... some shit like that. I told her that wasn't happening. And she hugged me. Don't know why she was so surprised. She hasn't hugged me since I was 15 and won that match against Merchi. You know the one— 20 to 5 and I got that conversion."

"Oh yeah. And then you got tackled when you were distracted by Hannah Jenkins on the sideline."

"That never happened."

"It very clearly did, though."

"Nah. You're imagining things."

Freddy pumps two big dollops of ketchup into paper cups as he talks. He dips a finger in the sauce and licks the thick red liquid off the tip.

 

"Eww. That's rank." I laugh, scrunching up my nose. 

"What?" Freddy chuckles, drawing a wet line down my cheek with his saucy finger.

"Were you raised in a fucking barn?!" I laugh, kicking him in the back of the leg.

"Oh, you love it."

"I really don't."

"Yeah, you do."

"Fine. If it shuts you up." I laugh again, flashing him a smile.

A woman gives us a withering look, shaking her head as she collects her order. We can't help but smirk as she goes on her way, tutting loudly.

 

"So, I was wondering—can you put me in touch with Tamsin?" 

"Why? You think you might be asexual, too?"

"Possibly. Or aromantic. Or... both. I don't know."

"Sure. I can do that."

"Cool. Thanks."

 

"Order number 66!"

 

As I collect my food, all I can hear is Freddy in the background: "Execute Order 66."