Living With Boys

ten // she's a jolly good fellow

Zara: How did it go?

Isabelle: Best daily update yet! I am employed! $$$$$ for me!

Zara: we praise our lord and saviour crazy lena montez

Isabelle: clicks for crazy lena

-

EMO HOES ON EMO ROAD

Jameson: a little birdie told me that my girl is employed

Isabelle: ur girl is employed!!!! :):):):):)

Sebastian: congrats izzy! you're going to kick the ass out of the corporate world

Jonah: does this mean you can afford to contribute for utilities now?

Will: She's not "your girl" James

Jameson: She is absolutely my girl

Jameson: And because she's my girl, we're going to celebrate

-

Isabelle: Jameson says we're celebrating tonight

Zara: celebrate on his penis

Zara: for me

Isabelle: Do you forget that I am in a relationship?

Zara: often

Zara: usually on purpose

***

I opened the front door to the Cheshire Cat.

Jameson was grinning widely from ear to ear, a drink in either hand, one with a salted rim and clear liquor and the other a large fruity concoction with a long straw and a little umbrella. He was also wearing a tiny party hat set at a jaunty angle and a cape made from colourful streamers.

Behind him, Seb was letting off party poppers one by one, aiming most of them to hang from Jameson's hair. Will was over Jameson's other shoulder, looking somewhat bored with Jamie's antics as he held a cake lit with an unreasonable number of sparklers and candles. Jonah was asleep on the couch with a party whistle hanging from the right corner of his mouth, unfurling slightly with every sleep-laden breath.

"Happy employment!" Jameson cheered.

"Oh, she's a jolly good fellow, oh, she's a jolly good fellow, oh—" Seb droned, unleashing another party popper into my hair.

Jonah snored.

"Wow, boys," I said, pulling Jamie into a careful hug that did not spill his drinks at all. "This is so sweet."

And it was. Zara always greeted me at the door every time I came home, often wielding some sort of knife to cut up a block of cheese or a glass of wine, and I missed the feeling of someone being excited to have you return to your shared space. I had even considered getting a dog, and probably would have if I didn't think the boys would mock my relentless spending problem.

I could totally afford a dog now; I was making stupid nepotism money.

"It was all me," said Jameson proudly, as if he wasn't obviously decked out in streamers and the only person with an ounce of enthusiasm on his face, like he was waiting for me to bestow him with a trophy of congratulations.

"Thanks, Jamie," I said, patting his head. Then I reached out to snag one of the cocktails from Jamie's hands. "Now, gimme."

"Oh," said Jameson, taking a pull from the straw of the fruity-looking drink and then a quick sip from the other glass. "These are both for me. Yours are in the kitchen."

Will shook his head with complete and utter disappointment. He looked cute with streamers woven into his curls, like a multi-coloured wig. I could imagine the permanent indulgent exasperation on his face as Jamie painstakingly tied the colourful strands into his hair. It was why I had always loved Will Kennedy; he might find us all vaguely annoying most of the time, but he always undertook the task of discontent with such fondness that you never felt nervous to provoke him. His displeasure felt like a big bear hug, because he was easily frustrated and too nice to ever show it to anyone but those he loved dearly. And as someone whose love language was being annoying, a trait I was equally unwilling to expose to anyone other than the select few I loved, it had always been the kindest thing he could ever do for me.