Friends of mine.

Chapter Eight.

"How do you deal so well with it?"

Nick asks, and it catches me off guard slightly, is he talking about my mum? How does he know I deal well with it? I mean, I try my best not to think about her, but I don't know if I would say I deal well with it. But as I look around me and where I am now, I think about his question, and I think I have something quite reasonable to say now.

"I like to think that my mum leaving... Happened for a reason. I feel it was supposed to happen and sometimes I'm glad it did."

Nick raises a brow in confusion, tilting his head to the side like a puppy.

"How so?"

He asks, almost desperately.
He must really want to know, I'm guessing he doesn't know how to feel about his dad anymore, at least he still has his mum to visit. I mean, he's only seventeen, that's crazy young, really he should still be living with her, I wonder where she lives.

"Well, when my mum left, obviously as an eleven year old- I was really upset. So my dad wanted to make it up to me."

I begin, remembering it like it was yesterday.

"So... He bought me a guitar, to make me feel better. That's what got me into playing it."

"So, what's your point?"

Nick fires back, I thought he would have understood what I was getting at, although I'm one to talk, I'm terrible at catching on to things.

"If my mum never left, I wouldn't have got that guitar, without the guitar I wouldn't have wanted to be in a band."

Soon enough Nick has a sudden realisation of what I am getting at, I hope it makes sense.

"Without my mum leaving, I would never have found this band, found you."

Shit, did I really say that? I bite my lip nervously, hoping Nick hasn't noticed I've gone completely red.
Nick raises his brow slightly and smiles from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh wow, a realist. I like how you think, Andy."

I get scared when he says my name, I don't know why, I'm just still not used to it. I feel my face redden even more.

"Why thank you."

I respond jokingly as I watch Nick pick up both his beer and my own, taking my hand and setting the beer between my fingers.

"I like what you said, I would never think of it that way, you see things differently."

Nick says, and I'm still quite confused as to why he gave me my drink, but I don't show it.

"So, let's cheers it, everything happens for a reason, yeah?"

He says, raising up his can.
I meet my can with his, clinking them together before we tip our heads back to gulp the rest down.
I wipe my mouth before setting down the empty beer can, sitting back in my seat.
As soon as I get comfortable, I groan in annoyance as I watch Nick jolt up into a sitting position, eyes widened as he stares at the clock that sits upon his shelf.

"Fuck! The Rum Runner! It's Saturday night, we can't be late."

He says worriedly, grabbing my arm and getting me from my seat.
I stumble forward, Nick's strong grip on my arm is still present as he seems to be thinking to himself.

"Right, we best finish off getting ready."

Nick says, jumping over his couch to leave the room, leaving me alone in the living room in thought.
I didn't think we needed to do anything else, aren't we ready to go? I mean all that time we could've gotten ready was wasted from talking, but I daren't think that, I'm more than grateful that we talked for that time, for a seventeen year old, I think he's very mature.
My eyes glance to the stairs to see Nick rushing down with a box of some kind, a black one with a metal lock on it. I tilt my head to the side and raise a brow, what the hell could it be?
I don't bother making any guesses, I've had a lot of shocks in only one day.