Cuffed. [Norman Reedus]

20*Pretending.

Chapter Twenty ::: Pretending.

{*UNEDITED*}

"I really should be going now." I've been dropping hints that I need to go home for the past hour and a half, but Boone and Janice have continuously found new ways to keep me here and keep me occupied. First it was dinner, and then it was Sunday night football, and now Boone was yelling drunkly into his cellphone ordering a pizza.

"Boone, we literally just ate dinner." Janice yanks at his arm, stifling a laugh.

I'm sitting uncomfortably in the crook of their couch, leaning against the armrest as his TV illuminates the dark room. My leg hops up and down, and although I'm not usually this impatient, something in my body and mind has shifted and I can't seem to bring myself to have a good time. (It could perhaps be the pinching idea that my mother is probably gearing up to and getting ready to ruin my life, since I ruined hers.)

"But I'm hungry!" Boone protests as Janice finally manages to take the phone from her boyfriend, and apologizes to the pizza man on the other end.

"Why don't you take Norman out and help him untie his bike from your truck. I can make you some spaghetti." Janice suggests, glancing sideways at me.

Boone slouches back into the couch, his lower lip in a pouty formation as he considers the suggestion.

I've never seen Boone act like this; at the party when he was drunk, it was like he became a reckless criminal. But here, he has magically transformed himself into a baby-like adult who needs Janice to treat him like a kid. It's interesting to watch, and it's quite funny to me to watch him act either way.

"Fine." Boone swiftly stands to his feet, and walks straight out the front door.

"Sorry." Janice apologizes to me as I stand up. "We're working on the beer issue," she smiles slightly at the end of her sentence to lighten the mood before I nod in understanding and walk outside to find Boone.

I can vaguely make out his stumbling figure in the street lamp glow standing in the bed of his truck, fumbling angrily with the ropes that hold down my motorcycle. I walk out to the curb and stand there for a minute, watching him struggle before he straightens himself upright and looks at me angrily.

"Are you just gonna watch?!" he asks.

I take my hands out of my pocket and begin to unclip the ropes that are hooked under the truck.

"So," I'm smart enough to know that having a serious conversation with him while he is alcohol induced isn't the best idea, but I want to at least see how he reacts. "My mom showed up at my apartment today." I say.

Boone stays silent, continuing to untie ropes.

"She said you talked to her?"

"And?" Boone snaps quickly, his attitude growing.

I pause, thinking of what to say. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing," I make my way to the other side of the truck that's parked beside the curb and reach under it to unhook another rope. "I was just surprised you didn't tell me."

"You were in jail!" Boone laughs loudly, stepping over a tarp. "I wasn't gonna call the county jail just to tell you that your sweet little mother called you."

"Are you even drunk?" I ask, ignoring his temper.

Boone stands up, breathing heavily as his air pushes steam through the chilly air. He looks sideways, squinting slightly. "No," he says, "I've been pretending."

"Why?" I ask, giving up on my hope of continuing the conversation about my mother. Boone gets back to work before he answers.

"Janice," he says through a grunt as he lifts the front of the bike up over a wheel-stopper. "And our relationship," he pauses to roll the ropes up in a bundle and I stand with my arms shoved in my jacket as I listen. "Is shit." he finishes, looking at me.

I look up at him before he walks over and jumps out of the truck. I step forward to help him pull a plank of wood out to use as a ramp, and as we set it up he continues.

"If I'm drunk, it's usually easier. We make more contact; we talk more, and she takes care of me." he explains.

We lean the wood up on the bed of the truck to the ground and I take the job of guiding the bike as I pull myself up and start wheeling it backwards.

I'm getting ready to respond when Boone interrupts.

"You don't have to say it, I know it's fucking stupid." he pauses, waiting for me to roll the bike down.

"I'll figure it out." his tone urges that he would rather drop the topic, and our mouths are silent until we are saying goodbye later that night.

"I'll be at work tomorrow." I say, starting my bike's engine.

Boone has gone back to acting drunk and his head is leaning heavily on Janice's shoulder as I reverse out to the street and wave one last time before heading home, replaying the interesting and shocking conversation that Boone had with me earlier.

***

When I return home, I let Buck out and feed him before slouching down onto my couch. It's already nine O'Clock, and I've already eaten dinner so there's nothing else to do than sit and watch a movie. 

I put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt before spending nearly 20 minutes scanning Netflix for a good show or movie to watch, finally settling on Breaking Bad. 

After the first episode is over, I wait impatiently for the fifteen seconds to run out and have the second episode play automatically since I'm too lazy to grab the remote control. While time ticks by, I end up speaking aloud to reflect on the episode. "What do ya' think Buck?" I look over at him on the ground. "Is Walter White―"
Before continuing the conversation with my dog, I take a moment to realize what's going on. I am literally talking to my dog, alone, on a Sunday night watching a show that I've already seen one hundred times.

 As Netflix begins to buffer, I harshly begin to contemplate an idea. At first thought, I shot down the suggestion to myself. It was nearly 10 at night; no one would want to go out, especially her. But the more I thought about it, and the harder I stared at my telephone, the idea seemed more possible. Finally, standing up, I make my way to the telephone and call Ella, a determined expression planted over my face.

"Hello?" Ella's voice is scratchy when she answers.

"Ella." I say. 

"Norman?! Why are you calling me? It's like midnight!"

I furrow my eyebrows, smiling to myself. "Um, it's only ten? But that's besides the point. Are you busy right now?"

She pauses and I can hear her sighing. "Well I was sleeping but you seem like you have an exciting thing planned. . . So, no I guess I'm not busy."

"Perfect." I lie. Even though I have no idea what we're gonna do or how exciting I'll be able to make it in this short amount of time, my heart leaps with just the thought of going on yet another adventure with her.

Good luck to me.