Weeds

Weeds - Chapter Four

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Two weeks.

I am grounded for two week.

Elliott and I arrive at midnight, we had caught the last bus out of LA and as a result we were home late. Very late.

It was early Sunday morning when I was laying on the living room floor, admiring the ceiling. It had small flecks that if looked properly had shapes, almost like clouds.

So far I had seen a bunny and Santa hat.

There was a loud knock at the door, and since everyone was out I had no choice but to answer. I pushed myself to my knees and grabbed on to the couch, hoisting myself up completely.

The knocking became louder and more persistent.

"What do you want?" I said as I swung the door open.

There in dark blue polo and khakis stood the one and only, Cole Dawson. I slammed the door, but he had stuck his foot in.

Damn.

I walked back into the living room turning the TV on; Saved By The Bell was on.

"Not happy to see me Riles?" He smirked, walking into the room standing directly in front of the TV.

"Ecstatic, now that I have seen you, you may leave." I tried to keep my tone cold and passive.

He shook his head, "When did you get so funny?"

"Sometime when you were gone."

His smile vanished and he walked towards the couch, sitting beside me.

He was sitting facing me, his arm on the back of the couch and leaning on his shoulder.

He always did that when he was trying to look cute.

I didn't want to pay attention to him so I focused my attention on the TV, Jessie and Slater were stuck in a dark heater room. They had grease stains on their faces and Slater was down to only wearing a wife beater.

"You can't ignore me forever Riles, we're going to talk eventually."

"There's nothing to talk about."

He groaned loudly, "Please-"

I shook my head.

"Please?"

His voice, it cracked like it use to. For a second I felt like the guy sitting beside me was just a boy, the old him.

"C'mon just give me a chance to redeem myself, please Riles."

"Fine."

His face lit up and he offered to go on a walk saying that my mother had approved, I turned the TV off slipping my flip-flops on.

When we were out and the door locked he offered me his arm, like he always use to, but I declined.

"So how've you been?" He asked.

"Fine, you?"

"Fine."

The conversation was sinking faster than a rock in plastic Tupper-wear.

Conversations with him never use to be like this, we could talk for hours on end. We could talk for hours on the most random of topics, and now we couldn't even maintain a minuets conversation.

I had made up various scenarios on how this conversation would be, how we would be able to talk as if he had never left.

We continued to walk; we were now leaving my neighbor hood and entering the next.