i can't stop remembering...

i never stopped

"Did you put it on my dresser yet?" I ask Edwin as I start to fold the load of laundry.

"Yes," he says. "I put it there while you were at your therapy session."

"Yay," I say. "I'm now one hundred dollars richer."

He rolls his eyes "I'll win the other one."

"I don't think so," I say. "Given the fact that Nick hates my ass right now."

"He doesn't hate you. He is just worried for you," he says.

"Yea, whatever," I say.

Ever since I went out with Brandon two days ago Nick has been acting so different. He doesn't talk to me. The man barely even looks at me.

It really does suck. I just want my best friend back. I want to be able to talk to him and make jokes with him, but he is being childish. I don't know why he got so mad about it. It wasn't even that big of a deal.

"I'll get him to talk to you," Edwin says.

"Oh, bull shit," I say. "He isn't going to talk to me."

"He will if I decide to do something really mean to him," he says.

"Why would you do that?"

"We could make up a story," he says. "That Brandon hurt you again. Then he would freak out and talk to you."

"No," I say laughing, "He would hate me even more. That would make him not want to talk to me even more."

"We could try it."

"No, Edwin," I say. "It's not happening."

"Fine. Then you are on your own now," he says standing up from the couch.

"Help me put clothes away!" I yell.

"You do it!" He yells back as he starts to walk up the staircase.

I groan and I pick up the pile of towels. I take it to the downstairs bathroom and I put them away in the drawer.

"Addison!"

"What!" I yell back.

"Come here!"

I walk out of the bathroom and I walk into the kitchen. Zion is sitting on the island drinking a white claw. I swear he is always drinking.

"What's up?" I ask as I sit down on the island chair next to him.

"I have a question for you."

I take the white claw out of his hands and I take a sip, "Which is?"

"Would you ever join a gang again?"

"Uh, I don't know," I say. "Why are you asking me this now?"

"I don't know," he says. "I just think it would be cool to start our own."

"You want to start a gang?"

"Yes," he says. "The five of us can start it and it'll be really fun."

"What would we even do?"

"I don't know," he says. "We could sing and dance or we could simply be a gang that helps people."

"So like undercover cops?" I ask laughing.

"Yes," he says. "We would be so good at it."

"Have you talked to the other three yet?"

"No," he says. "I thought I would just get your opinion first."