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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Heat - 20. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Asher’s apartment is destroyed. The place looks like a hurricane blew through, literally. What little furniture he had has been either smashed or soaked to the point of being unusable. I stand in the doorway while he gathers a bag of dripping but otherwise intact clothes and a few small, salvageable items. Once he’s done he stands next to me and looks at what is left of his home.

“Definitely not getting the security deposit back… you ok?” I gently touch his arm.

“Yeah. I’m not even sad really, though I kind of feel like I should be. I guess I always expected something like this to happen. This place was mine, but I always knew in the back of my mind that anything that belonged to just me was temporary.”

I want to tell him that’s not true but I can’t prove that, so instead I just take his hand and let him look for as long as he needs to. When he’s done I sling his bag over my shoulder - the same bag he forgot the day we met - and we climb onto his bike.

There’s no need to discuss where we’re going. He knows he’s welcome wherever I am for as long as he needs to be. It’s not like I have anyone to ask permission from after all. I mean technically there’s Auntie A, the legal owner of the house (in trust) but yeah, I’m not asking her. She hid condoms in my cabinets (next to the toaster, of course) the last time I saw her. So, together, we go home.

That night, his body curled around mine in bed (we didn’t bother with the pretense of him sleeping on the couch this time) he whispers, so quiet I almost can’t hear. “I’m sorry I brought you into all of this.”

Just as quietly I respond “You didn’t bring me into anything. I chose it. I chose you.”

He tightens his grip on me and I feel too-hot tears on the back of my neck. After some time he says “I didn’t know anyone could do that.”

That night I do not dream.

The rest of the week passes (almost disturbingly) without incident. Asher and I even start to fall into something that feels almost like domesticity. It’s a little scary how normal it all feels. Auntie A visits on thursday to check in and doesn't even comment on Asher still being around. Sometimes I love that woman. Asher gets more nervous by the day, the lack of change eating at him. I’m not much better, pacing around the house like a caged tiger thinking about the meeting with my friends this weekend.

Finally it’s friday - the day of bowling. What have I become that the thought of bowling with my closest friends makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but I don’t even flinch when my boyfriend stubs his toe and almost sets the couch on fire. Still, it can’t be put off forever and I do feel better with Asher here to support me. So, I find myself on Asher’s arm being (almost) dragged into the town’s only bowling alley.

Senna sees me first. She’s sitting on Chris’ lap poking at her phone while waiting for her turn on the lane when we walk in and happens to glance our way. She smiles, waving us over. My hand tightens in Asher’s and he gives me a comforting squeeze. We walk over and I say “Hey.”

Senna nods and Chris says “‘sup” because he thinks it’s cool to talk like it’s 1996 sometimes. Marcus is up at the moment throwing in his signature style - way too hard and straight at the gutter - while Ryan grabs snacks from the bar.

“So, aren’t you gonna introduce us?” Chris says with a grin.

“Oh, yeah. This is Ash, my boyfriend. Ash this is Senna and you know Chris already.”

“Nice to meet you Senna, and good to see you again Chris.” Asher says with a smile that just screams nice young man. “So, Kenan tells me this is a kind of game. What are the rules?”

Chris laughs “The rules to bowling? Everybody knows how to bowl.” Senna smacks him on the chest, hard. “Ow! Why is everyone always hitting me?”

“Because you’re a dumbass, Chris” Marcus says, returning from punishing the lane’s sidewalls.

“I may have a dumb ass but at least my dick’s smart.” Chris says, proudly. Like he just said something clever. Senna looks too confused to hit him again.

“I don’t even know what that means, Chris. You oughta lay off the pot it’s fucking with your head.” Marcus pats his back with one of his big bear hands. “You’re up buddy.” Chris, mumbling about how he can quit any time he wants he just doesn’t want to, grabs a 12 ball and steps up to bowl. Then Marcus gives me one of his big smiles. “It’s good to see you out and about, Kenan. We missed you.”

I can’t imagine why after I’ll I’ve done. Ok. Best to just say it. If I wait much longer then I’ll chicken out and pretend to have a good time instead of actually saying what I came here to say so it’s now or never. I take a deep breath.“Hey, Marcus, Senna. I… just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting for the past… well for a long time. I really care about you guys and cutting you off like that was fucked up no matter what’s been happening in my life. So just… thank you for sticking by me even when I’m being a really shitty friend.”

Marcus pauses a moment to consider and then says “Yep. Any time.” and then wraps me in a hug that makes me feel absolutely miniscule. “I love you, dummy. Even when you’re sad.” He puts me down and pats me a little to straighten out my clothes. “Now, I’m gonna go over there -” he points at the arcade in the back of the building “and you are coming with me.” He reaches out and takes Asher by the arm, dragging him away.

“Um… am I being kidnapped?” Asher says, allowing himself to be dragged

“Yep.” Marcus says and they disappear into the dark room.

Senna, who prefers when she does speak to do so one on one (as Marcus certainly knows, the bastard) says “You’re right.” Her voice is very deep for a girl, and it has this tone that is somehow gentle and captivating at the same time. I’ve never heard her sing (as far as I know no one has) but if she did I have no doubt it would be beautiful.

“I… am?”

She nods. “You’ve been a shitty friend.” Oh. “But Marcus is right too. We love you. Even when you’re sad. Even when you’re a shitty friend. That’s a given. What I want to know is, do you?” … oh.

“I… don’t know.” I slump in the bowling alley’s cheap vinyl seating and it squeaks embarrassingly.

“Well. That’s fucked then. Figure it out. While you do, I’m gonna be right here.”

I don’t know what to say to that. Nothing I guess.

“Hey, where’d everybody go?” We both turn to look at Chris who stops in his tracks. “All good?” We stare at him in silence. “I think now would be a good time to get snacks.” Senna nods slowly and Chris backs away.

For a moment the two of us just look at each other. Then we both burst out laughing. Hard and long, until we are gasping for air. When we finally stop for breath we are grinning like idiots and just like that it’s like no time has passed at all.

“Thank you. For everything. I love the hell out of you you know that?”

“You’d better.” There’s the slightest quiver of emotion in her voice (as good as a sob for her) and the look on her face breaks my heart.

“Always.”

Copyright © 2019 MythOfHappiness; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Yay,  we're back in business.

Um,  Kenan's friends need a briefing that Asher's family doesn't wish him well. 

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