Chapter 54

                                    

                                          
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"Loretta I can not stress this enough: You are being incredibly dull." Ciarán said and sighed.
                          
I turned to the annoying and tall Irishman and kicked his leg.
                          
"Fuck you too O'Toole. I'm busy." I snapped and saw him rolling his eyes.
                          
"Doing what exactly?" He had the audacity to ask.
                          
We were sitting in the University library, doing research on our new study. We had gotten excellent grades on our study on Contemporary British Literature and had decided to team up on our new study as well. Our new topic? American literature during World War II and it's impact on the war effort at home. I was working my ass off so I could get everything done in time, while the Irish assface was doing absolutely nothing.
                          
"I am doing what you are supposed to be doing." I told him and he let out a chuckle.
                          
"No, I'm Irish, all I'm ever supposed to be doing is drinking."
                          
"You think you're so funny."
                          
This is exactly what my life had been for the past two weeks: absolutely nothing special. My days were filled with work and studying with the occasional splash of Ciarán being an utter cunt.
                          
Everything had gone back to normal after John left. I would go to the Uni couple times a week, attend a lecture or two and then I work on our study. It was alright, I mean it was my life after all, but was it as exciting as an North American leg of a Queen tour? Certainly not. John and I had phoned each other every day. Hic calls had quickly become the highlight over each day. Sometimes we could speak for over an hour, sometimes he could only spare five minutes, but we would make them count.
                          
"So what's it been like? Are the crowds big?" I had asked him on the phone a couple days ago.
                          
"Oh they're enormous, the Americans really like us, it's crazy out here Loretta. I wish you could see it. And it's beautiful here, you would love it." He had answered.
                          
John wasn't the only one I had gotten calls from. Brian would call me twice a week to check on me. We had really grown closer during the time John and I spent apart. Brian had always been the closest member to me after John, but now he had become almost like a brother to me.
                          
But no matter how many phone calls I would get from the two men, nothing could take away how much I missed them. Every single night when I went to bed, I couldn't shake off the feeling of loneliness. First I had had Timmy to share the bed with me, then John and now that I had to do it alone again, I realised just how much I hated it. How much I just wanted him to come back home, which thankfully, would be quite soon.
                          
Their first three day break would be in four days, and John would be flying home for one night. He's not going to be getting much sleep that night, I'll tell you that much, I thought to myself and chuckled.
                          
"Who's not going to get much sleep?" Ciarán asked and furrowed his brows, looking up from the book he was reading.
                          
"What?" I said and looked up in horror. Had I said it aloud? 
                          
"You said 'he's not going to be getting much sleep that night'. Who? Me? What night?" He asked but all the answers he needed were in my face that was now turning bright red. "Ooh... I see." He smirked and bit his bottom lip.
                          
I his his arm and gave him the finger. "Shut up."
                          
"Your words, not mine!" He exclaimed and earned an angry hiss from the girl in the table next to us. I tried to hold back my laughter but with poor success. Soon we were both giggling like idiots and we had gather our stuff and leave the library.