We just wanted to stay home and do nothing. Me and Clay were just exhausted from the events that happened last day, while George and Nick had to take painkillers to ease the headache from how hungover they were.

All we did during an hour was talk to our moms cause none of us answered the calls yesterday. And all of us got lectured. Even George, and he's almost 40.

"All of your mums called me. Why?" George looked at us. We all gave his contact to our parents as a backup number.

"You were supposed to be the old one," Nick frowned, "yet look what you did, dragged me into drinking."

"No one dragged you," George looked pissed, "I said wanna drink? And you said yes."

"How was I supposed to resist?" Nick's voice was getting higher.

"Shhh," I shushed, trying to save my ears from the upcoming fight, "quiet."

It's amazing how they listen to me every time.

Just as I was about to ask if there were any plans for today (and hope they'll say no) George spoke again.

"Turns out there is a turkey in the freezer that my mum forgot to cook the day before Christmas," his words came out of nowhere, "and she told me to cook it for you guys before it goes bad."

"Yaaay!" Clay didn't sound that excited. He didn't even move his eyes up from the phone, "Half-rotten turkey, yay!"

"Cook it then, we're waiting." Nick was on his phone too.

I decided to not speak, knowing that every word could work against me. Next thing you know he forces you to stuff the turkey.

"I can't cook. You gotta help me." And I was right again.

"Neither can I." I tried to get rid of the responsibility, but to be fair none of us knew how to crack an egg without leaving a piece of shell in it.

"I can't cook but I'll help." Clay is being so nice lately.

"This is why you're my favourite." George smiled at him, and I knew that his words weren't sarcastic at all.

"I'm daddy's favorite!" The way Clay said it so casually made us not react at all. This is getting normal now.

We had to help George get the turkey out of the freezer, cause apparently he can't tell it apart from a chicken. Then we did what everyone with zero cooking skills does - googled the recipe and chose the one with the best thumbnail. There were some ingredients that we didn't have at home. So there comes the hardest part of deciding who gets to go to the supermarket.

"Only you know the places in here," I tried to make George leave, "you can take someone with you for company."

And when I said someone I didn't think that I could be that someone.

"Who wants to come?" George's remark seemed completely normal to me until Nick started laughing.

"Please make me come, Gogy." And apparently laughing was not enough for Nick.

George just looked at him disgusted, while me and Clay went "what?" at the same time. I think I'm adopting his ways of reacting too by now.

"Let's play rock, paper, scissors," Nick held his fist infront of us, "whoever loses has to go."

And I shouldn't have agreed, cause my screwed luck worked its magic again, making me lose on the first ever try. Both of them somehow chose to hold rock while I was standing there with my scissors.

"Ugh," I really didn't want to leave the house, "you two stay home chop the greens, the garlic and the onion. Oh, the carrots too. Follow the recipe and try not to lose fingers, we'll be back soon."

I ordered, putting my shoes on in the process. I didn't bother to put on make up and my hair looked bad to the point where it couldn't be saved, and having it in a bun was the best option.

"Bossy much?" Clay smirked, getting the ingredients.

The last thing I wanted was the sexual tension between us while George and Nick were in the room.

"Obey." I used the word he loved so much against him, which made him laugh lightly, still looking at me in a way that made me want to leave as soon as possible.

"Are we interrupting something?" Nick just had to address everything.

I sighed, grabbing my phone and signaling George to go. We didn't have to walk that much, the supermarket was down the street, but as we got there we realized that probably making a list before leaving the house would be a better idea.

"What did we need?" He was clueless.

"Thyme, celery, aluminum foil?" I tried to remember but that was all that came out, "Let's call Clay."

George nodded as we walked down the vegetable aisle, grabbing the things we remembered in the process of calling Clay. It took him almost 5 minutes to pick up.

"What's taking you so long?" I complained, annoyed that I had to wait that long.

"My fingers smell like onion and Nick's sobbing from cutting them, what did you expect?" He was sniffling too, and I heard Nick complaining in the background.

"What did we need to get?" I asked while shaking my head cause George was showing me parsley and asking if it was thyme.

"Condoms."

...I hung up on him.

We'll just google the recipe and find the ingredients without their help.