Failure Can Be Funny! Numero Tres

This is part three of the "Failure Can Be Funny!" short story, the entirety of which is located on the tabs bar below the page title. Thank you!

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Part Three
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When Robbie awoke seventeen hours later, he rolled over in his twin bed, looked at his clock radio, and let loose one of his most impressive strings of curses in recent memory.

“Ah, you’re awake then.” Amir was sitting on the edge of his bed with a tall boy with incredibly unremarkable features, watching with some amusement.

“Oh shut up.” Robbie was still trying to process that Amir was alive. He figured that once he had he would bawl like a baby, preferably not in front of Amir.

“Didn’t see you at the Chem final,” The other boy said with a tone of disapproval, “Had better things to do, eh?”

“Go suck it, Nigel.”

“My name is Duane.”

Duane had a British accent, so naturally Amir and Robbie had taken to calling him Nigel almost immediately. He had gained some celebrity at Brooks College over the years for being a tall, athletic black guy with a British accent that still could not get a date. This was considered somewhat of a heroic feat to his peers. Largely contributing to his lack of companionship was his astoundingly unremarkable features. It was not uncommon for him to spend several hours flirting with an girl, go to the bathroom, and have her ask him his name when he came back.

Robbie pretended to think about it, “No, I don’t think that’s right.”

“I would know a damn slight better than you, wouldn’t I, you little prick?”

Amir and Robbie laughed and said in unison, “Classic Nigel.”

Duane’s face turned as red as it could manage and he stormed out in a huff.

“Ta-ta, Nigel,” Robbie called after him. “Don’t stop for tea and crumpets along the way, you have a PoliSci exam in like, twenty minutes!”

“MY NAME IS DUANE, ASSHOLE!” Duane screamed from the end of the corridor, and slammed his door.

Amir laid back on his bed and sighed contentedly. “That guy really needs to get laid.”

“I’ll say,” Robbie said. He sat up in bed. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“I have a PoliSci exam in twenty minutes.”

Amir laughed, “I was wondering if you were going to figure that out eventually.”

As he dashed out the door, Robbie paused to pick up his phone.

12 MISSED CALLS, 25 NEW MESSAGES, it read.

“What the what?” Robbie murmured aloud.
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Again, thank you all endlessly for reading and commenting! This wouldn't happen without you...quite literally! Because I am a shameless attention-seeker and if nobody was reading this, I wouldn't be writing it. Hope you're having a great summer!

--- Justin

p.s. You'll notice that I added a "Sponsors" tab under the title. Check it out if you're curious who's been ripping me off for essentially free advertising! I kid, I kid! Don't sue me please. <3