My Alcoholic Plush Toy by Mandy Celestine

Author:Mandy Celestine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mandy Celestine

1:41 am, (technically) Monday

April 17th, 2017 – Setagaya, Tokyo

He’s fast.

I make a solid run for it, but Jesus, he’s got a pair of legs on him, like a fucking antelope.

I spend ten minutes being chased around the dormitory — the entire dormitory — through what I swear is every kitchen, every laundry, and every shower room. Sander is wielding my keychain the whole time, evidently determined to zap the living shit out of me, and each time we fly past the common room like Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner, I can hear the others cheering, whooping, and placing bets.

I’ve never seen someone so goddamn determined to take their revenge. It isn’t until I find a good hiding spot in the security guard’s office that I manage to shake him off and catch my breath; the dumbass left the door wide open when he left for his rendezvous upstairs.

That was half an hour ago.

Eventually, Lucas downs the final shot and calls the game, at which point I decide it’s probably safe to come out from under the guard’s desk. Lucas apparently made a show of declaring that canning the game to give Sander and I some “alone time” would be for the greater good, and admittedly, it’s a relief because something in the waste bin beneath this splintering desk smells strangely like old prawns.1

When I return to the common room, the company is already peeling itself up and beginning the stumble back to its rooms and lodgings for the night. Sander, on the other hand, is hanging over the back of the couch making apologetic puppy-dog eyes, his arms dangling like ropes, and his head propped up on the couch’s back as his eyes follow me. After explaining that his legs have stopped working, which I can believe given the marathon sprint we just endured, he promises he won’t try to zap me again and tosses me my phone.

My legs also feel like Jell-O, especially after going from being comfortably sunken into the couch to running for my life in the space of a few seconds. But when I round the sofa and grab his hands to help him up, it quickly becomes apparent that he is in a much worse state than myself, hence why I am currently struggling to escort him back to his room. His arm is slung over my shoulder and, mine is wrapped around his waist.

We’re both hobbling clumsily down the hall.

He slows for a moment and holds my gaze, his face only a few inches from mine.

“You’re an angel. You know that?” His eyes are just about twinkling as he says this.

“Hush, you.” I give him a gentle shove forward. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re plastered.”

We’ve only just made it into the men’s hallway when I begin craning my head around, trying to regain a sense of direction. The lights are dim, and I can barely see down either end of the corridor.

“Which way, Sander?”

“Right in front of you.” He points to the closest door and chuckles.

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