Glitches

Chapter 26 - Bickering

The room had been cleaned for most of the people. A few sat up against the wall, talking to their mates, while a small group was leaning over a map on an old table.

As we walked across the open room in the direction of the staircase, Sam leaned down.

"You know, you didn't have to take the blame for the broken lamp, right?"

"I know," I said casually, keeping my gaze straight forward, "but I did it anyway."

"But why?" he frowned, glancing at me.

I just shrugged.

"Because I wanted to."

Sam made a sound between a scoff and a chuckle, his lips curling into a lopsided smile.

"You sure are strange. But it meant that I got away with a crime, so I'm not the one to complain."

I grin at him, glad that the happy jokily Sam was back.

"Thank you, Steph," he suddenly blurted out.

"For what?" I chuckled, looking up at his face.

"For everything in there," he nodded at the direction of the room we had been in.

"You know, holding me, and listening to me. Stuff like that. No one have ever done that to me. And I have to admit that it really helped. So, thank you."

The smile on my face, grew even wider. And a fluttering feeling filled my chest.

"You're very welcome."

We reached the stairs to the parking cellar, quickly walking down the steps.

The smell immediately hit me. It hadn't changed since yesterday, but the mouldy smell still filled my nostrils, making me cringe.

I was the first to spot Nick, Miranda and Ralph. They were sitting on a bench in one of the corners of the room. However, three people had decided to join them. When we got closer, I recognised them as the others from the van. William's thick accent echoed through the room, his arms making weird motion in the air. He must've been explaining something to them. However, Nick seemed to be the only one really listening.

Veronica was sitting on the floor in front of Miranda, who was in the midst of braiding her hair.

Ralph was the one to recognise our presence.

"Look who's back from their conversation with the boss," he greeted, waving at us to come closer. "Come 'ere kids. Sit down."

We took a seat on the ground in front of them, the cold surface quickly seeping through the fabric of my trousers.

"Nice haircut," Nick said, from beside us. He sat on a camping chair, his left hand in his lap. It was a slightly different colour than the rest of his body, and a clear line was visible around his wrist where the skin had been melted together.

My eyes swiftly glanced at my own wrist, where I knew that my own line was visible under the fabric of the jacket.

"Thank you," Sam mumbled, rubbing his face. "You got your nose cleaned."

"Yeah, I did," Nick smiled, touching his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"Sorry for punching you," Sam said, fiddling with his fingers in his lap.

"For the tenth time, I forgive you. Stop apologising mate," he chuckled, patting Sam on the shoulder.

He let out a sigh in relief, nodding slightly.

"Is your hand alright?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

But also, because I wanted to get to know Nick. If he was like us, I wanted to know his story.