“What’s the point of this vocal detour?” he asks.
“Okay, that word choice was fire. So . . . behind the kiosk, there’s another little corridor, which has two tiny rooms. One is a stockroom, but it’s jammed right up with actual crap. The other is a sluice room. I don’t think this area has been used in years. Maybe even since before Covid. The whole sluice waste disposal chute thingy is completely blocked over now.”
He narrows his gaze at me but still says nothing.
“Meet me in the sluice room thirty minutes before we have to be at the locker room on Sunday.”
The megawatt grin that spreads over Eggo’s face could power an entire city. “The sluice room, you say?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be sluice, but the S and the U have peeled off over time. So I guess now it says L and ICE.”
He pulls on his T-shirt, then his sweatshirt, and I get dressed myself. “Meet you in the lice room before the home game. You know, if we win, we’ll have to make it a tradition.”
“We could make it a tradition even if we don’t win,” I say.
He smiles, raises his eyebrows, and rubs his thumb along his lips. “Any other random Pi titbits floating about in there?”
“Uh . . . yeah, actually. What’s your favourite dinosaur?”
He doesn’t look at me weird, doesn’t laugh, doesn’t even hesitate with his response. “No contest. Pachycephalosaurus, pard.”
I’m the one who jolts in reaction. “Really?” It’s such a bonkers, left-of-field answer, and yet the most Eggo thing I could ever imagine.
“Why? What’s yours?” he asks.
I’m still reeling from his surprising pick. “Iguanodon probably.”
He raises a brow at me.
“What? It looks like it’s the friendliest dinosaur.” I’m laughing and unable to defend my choice any further. Though seven-year-old Aiden would be happy I stuck up for us and told the truth,and didn’t say something so try-hard as T. rex. “Why did you go for pachycephalosaurus?”
“Fat skulls, headbutt fights, cool as fuck, mate. Best dino out there. All the other dinos can’t hold a candle to my egg-headed smashy bad boys. The closest dino you’ll get to a rugby forward. Imagine a pachycephalosaurus scrum.”
“I actually love that,” I say. “I love that so much. I’m kinda jealous I never thought of it.”
Chapter 21
Aiden
Saturday 14th February 2026
@Eggsy01 replied to your story.
The notification flashes up on my phone as I’m getting in my car, and I expand the message. He’s replying to a photo I posted this morning on Instagram of Georgia and me. A selfie taken two nights ago when we were at Side Quest. I’ve used a sticker over the top that, in the plainest way possible, saysHappy Valentine’s Day, and shared it to my “close friends.”
Eggo’s reply reads,
Does this mean you’re officially a thing now?
I hesitate before sending a message back.
Yes.
His response takes only seconds. It doesn’t even give me long enough to panic that things will be weird or different between us.
Chuffed for you, pard.
This will be our third home game since we made our lice room meet-up arrangement, and our fifth BJs in total. We’re becoming experts at making each other come quicker than the previous time. It’s as though we’re prepping for the orgasm Olympics. With each new blowie or hand job, we’re shaving seconds off our PBs.
