Apartment 311

Ch | 51

Noah Silas Anderson

Chapter Fifty-one: "Lovin' is what I got"

"-I can keep yapping about my treatment or you can tell me what's on yer mind?" Rick's voice snapped my out of my mind.

I shook my head, sighing heavily as I dropped the phone from my fingertips onto the table. Rick stared at it then at me and waited for me to speak.

I visited him because I didn't know what else to do with myself. Gael and I were both shook after the accident, he needed his own time to himself, too. I respected that.
Meanwhile, Cassie had Emereigh, and as much as I wanted to spend time with my little sister, I was in no position to - mentally or emotionally.

And Brooks. Fucking Brooklyn.
My leg started to shake uncontrollably under the table as I felt myself getting annoyed even more for thinking about her. For the millionth time, I picked up my phone and stared at the lockscreen thinking a text from her would appear any second. It didn't. I unlocked the iPhone Max with my face and went into our message thread.

The last thing I sent was:

What's your favorite movie?

I have a lot

Pick one.

Showgirls!

Come watch it with me

And that was days ago, the beginning of the week actually. I had no idea what she's up to, she hasn't posted anything for me to see. On top of that, I haven't seen her Porsche in the parking lot, and I didn't want to ask about her because I didn't want people saying I was worried about her. She's grown.

"I guess it's kind of my fault," I vented out of nowhere, covering my face with my hands. I sniffed and then sat back, crossing my arms over my chest. "I shouldn't have acted how I acted, I guess."

"How'd you act?" asked Rick, wholeheartedly concerned and interested in what I had to talk about.

"Like an asshole," I laughed it off awkwardly and cut it off abruptly, staring at nothing.

"Okay," Rick urged, leaning in, "why'd you act like an asshole?"

"Because. I. Was. Pissed." I swallowed then ran my tongue over my molars.

"And why were you pissed?"

I quickly paused, debating if I should tell him, or not. Figuring the shooting was on the news so he possibly already heard anyway, I decided to talk about what happened at the club.

After briefing it without details or mentioning my involvement, I waited for Rick to react.

"What does that have to do with Brooklyn?" he asked me.

I clenched my jaw, realizing where he was going with this. "She was pissing me off," I grumbled, flicking the rubber band against my wrist.

"How? What she do?" His eyes burned into me, I just knew he was giving me that Dr.Phil look - 'the psychologist look.'

"She was asking questions, it was annoying, and I wasn't in the mood to talk."