TWO ABOUT LAST NIGHT

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     Norman awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame. Judging by the way the sun was streaming through the blinds on his second-floor bedroom it had to be around noon. Checking his phone, it was actually just a smidge after. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and faced his doorway, unsurprised to see Alisha there. He gave her a half-wave as he ran his fingers through his hair and walked into the bathroom.

"What was last night about?" Alisha finally asked, moving to sit on his bed just as he came out of the bathroom. He was used to waking up to various friends in his house since they had all reached the point in their friendships where each other's parents let them in all the time, no questions asked. Alisha was such a common visitor, she had been mistaken for being Norman's girlfriend far too many times.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he sighed, even though he was lying. He leaned against the doorway to his bathroom with his arms crossed, a stern and unmoving expression on his face. He always had been a good liar, but Alisha was better at seeing through him than most. They had always been closer than the rest of the group after having been friends the longest and they also complemented each other's personalities like no other.

She scoffed, pulling the hairband off of her wrist to pull her hair back into a ponytail as his room was almost unbearably warm. Rolling her eyes at him, she mused, "Dude, you know you can't lie to me. That motherfucker pulled out a gun and when you told me to get them out of there, I expected you to be right behind me. You weren't. You stayed around a person with a motherfucking gun. I know you're not stupid, Rocky, you don't do dumb shit without a good reason. I want to hear the reason."

The truth was, Norman didn't have a good reason. All he really thought of was the feeling of being frozen to his spot. He hadn't been unable to move due to fear, though, more like he knew where he was supposed to be and it had been right there. Alisha raised an eyebrow expectantly, but he didn't have a good answer for her. So, he shrugged, but that clearly wasn't enough for her.

"Norman, I'm being real here, okay? You put yourself in direct danger for what? To help some Pogues? You have never had a heart for Pogues your entire life, why start now? Why start when they have a gun to the head of one of our own?" the girl spat, clearly getting more frustrated the longer he took to give her an answer. "I heard gunshots after I got out of there, you have no idea how scared I was for you."

He sighed, "I know and I'm sorry for making you worry. I just... I don't know why I did what I did, Lish. You know how much I hate violence. They needed help, money didn't matter in that moment because that Pogue was going to drown if JJ hadn't stepped in. I'm not happy about how he did it, I'm just happy no one got shot. They needed help, I helped. Everyone is safe and alive, that should be what matters. Not the reasoning behind my actions."

"You don't have to talk to me like I'm putting you on the fucking stand," she groaned, falling back on his bed and staring at the ceiling with a deep sigh, "You aren't on trial, Rocky. Just don't pull any shit like that again, please. I had enough to worry about babysitting three drunk toddlers trying to get them out of there and to your car in one piece without worrying about you getting shot by some stupid lowlife."

"It's a lowlife you've been flirting with for the past year," Norman reminded her with a small snort, causing her to groan and cover her face with her hands.

"Don't remind me!" she exclaimed in anguish, "He was so cute, too! I hate when boys do dumb shit! Like, I don't like Topper, either! I'd never pull a fuckin' gun on him, though! Kicking him in the nuts is like maybe the furthest I'd take it with that ugly ass dude."

Norman laughed, glad the casual mood was back in the air. "Hey, everyone shows their true colors eventually. Besides, you can't really blame Pogues for behaving the way they do. It has to suck being born on the Cut, knowing you're either going to end up dead or working for a Kook. Half the time, they never even make it off the island."

"If you feel so bad for them, distribute your wealth, bitch," Alisha noted, sitting back up and sticking her tongue out with a smile. "But for real, what has gotten into you? You just defended the broke-ass homies on the other side of the island. I was starting to think you just wanted them all dead because you hate poor people."

"I do not hate poor people!" Norman exclaimed with a gasp, chuckling as Alisha threw one of his pillows at him. "I just think if they wanted money so badly they should have been born rich."

Alisha shook her head, standing up from the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to Norman's nose before going to make her way out of the room. For a moment she turned back to the boy with a smile, "The rest of us are gonna do a beach day out on the twins's boat, you coming?"

Everything in Norman should have led to him saying yes. He loved hanging out with his friends, they were the only thing that really mattered to him this summer. However, for some reason, something was eating away at his mind. Something he knew he shouldn't do, but he wanted to anyway.

So, he gave in to the thing that was killing him and responded, "No, there's some stuff I gotta do. Take pics for me, though. Make sure to push James into the water every time he says something slightly douchebagg-y."

"Just for you, baby!" Alisha exclaimed with a laugh as she waved goodbye and left the room.

Once she was gone, Norman sighed. He wasn't sure how he was going to do this or why he was going to in the first place. Trying to figure out where he needed to go was probably going to be the hardest part, but he was going to have to see what he could do. Grabbing his phone from where it had been left on top of his covers, he scrolled through his contacts before he found who he was looking for.

"Hello? Rocky?" Sarah Cameron's voice rang through the phone after about two rings. He was surprised the girl didn't just send him to voice mail considering how rarely the two actually talked. "Is something wrong? Is it something about last night?"

"Kind of. Uh, that girl from last night, Kie? You used to be friends with her right? I think I remember seeing you two hanging out a few times last year," he did a terrible job at explaining things, but he was hoping Sarah wouldn't question him too much. "Also, how's Topper? Is he okay?"

Sarah sighed, "Yeah, he's fine, just being super dramatic about all of it even though he barely has a scratch. Typical Topper. Anyway, yeah her and I used to be friends until she pulled a major bitch move and called the cops on my birthday party that one time, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember you complained about in Science literally every day this year, Sarah," Norman said with a small laugh. "Uh, super weird question, but do you still have her number?"

"Why do you need it?" she asked the question Norman was really wishing she wouldn't ask. Considering he needed it for an incredibly stupid reason he didn't want to admit, this was the worst thing she could possibly ask.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to think of a way to answer this without sounding like a total creep, "Uh, her and I got to talking after the whole thing last night and she's actually kinda chill so I wanted to text her. It's dumb, I know. You're just the first person I thought that would have it, sorry for bugging you."

Before he could hang up and call this a failed attempt, Sarah responded with, "Aw, that's cute. She's kind of a bitch, though, fair warning. Good luck, though, I'll text her number to you. I keep forgetting to delete it, anyway."

"Thanks a lot, bye," he squeezed out before he hung up and awaited her text. He honestly couldn't believe that worked. Then again, Sarah seemed to believe pretty much anything anyone said to her so he shouldn't have assumed it wouldn't. Then again, he was also just a great liar when he needed to be.

After a moment, the text came through with Kie's number and he sighed with relief. Sarah had actually come through for him which was surprising considering they weren't really friends. She seemed nice enough, but they had never clicked the way Norman and his friends did. He supposed being rich wasn't enough to have in common to need to be friends. He tapped the number to call, really praying that Kie would answer the phone.

After the third or fourth ring, his prayers were answered as he heard Kie say, "Hello? Who is this?"

"Hi, it's Norman, the kid that helped you with John B last night," he introduced after quickly realizing he wasn't sure if he ever told Kie his name in all the chaos. "Uh, Sarah gave me your number."

"Oh, I knew who you were. John B talks about you all the time," Kie spoke with a casual tone in her voice as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say even though Norman was currently freaking out because of it. "I didn't even realize it was you until I woke up this morning, honestly, but I knew you looked familiar."

"He... talks about me?"

"Yeah, it's exhausting. He's always like "I hate his stupid rich guy face" and "how much time do you think he spends making his hair look so perfect?" and other stupid shit. He's dumb, sorry," the girl explained with a gentle laugh, "Anyway, what's up?"

Norman sighed, knowing this was going to be the hard part. "I have a really stupid and probably creepy question. I know like John B hates me and everything, but I just wanted to check on him after last night because Topper really seemed to do a number on him. I know it's weird you can just like forget I called."

"No, wait that's actually really nice of you. John B has us all convinced you're like a total rich kid douche, but I don't know where he's getting it all from because you've been such a big help since last night. Gimme a sec, I'll text you his address. I wouldn't be surprised if he was still passed out." He felt his phone buzz against his ear before she spoke again, "Anyway, thanks again for the help. Pope is strong and all, but since he had to deal with calming JJ down I would have had to lug John B back to the van all on my own which probably would have taken, at the minimum, like an hour."

The boy laughed, thankful that Kie didn't think he was a total creep for asking. "Yeah, no, I was glad to help out. Is JJ doing okay? He seemed a little..."

"Completely unhinged? Yeah, but he seemed to be doing okay when I called him earlier today," Kie spoke with a chuckle that sounded almost nervous. Maybe she was still worried about the stunt the blond had pulled the night before. If it had been one of his friends, Norman would certainly feel the same way. "But it's cool, he was just pretty wasted. Same with John B. Thanks for wanting to check up on him, text me how he's doing?"

"Will do," he assured her, "Bye, Kie."

She bid him goodbye and he hung up the phone, anxiously staring at the text she had sent him containing his address. That meant going to the south side of the island. Alone. Norman didn't think he had ever done such a thing, yet here he was picking his car keys off of his desk like it was nothing. After a moment, he put them back down. Pulling up to the south side in a BMW was probably the stupidest possible thing he could do. Norman sighed, keeping on the sweat-shorts he had slept in even though they were getting a little short on him (as most things had since his growth spurt the summer after freshman year) and threw on a t-shirt. He was going to dress down as much as he possibly could considering he wasn't sure if Pogues were the type to rob any Kook they can. One could never be too careful.

Going downstairs, his mom was standing behind the kitchen counter cutting up some mango. "Oh, hey, hun I was just gonna bring this up to you since I saw Alisha leaving. You heading out?"

"Yeah, beach day on the twins's boat," he lied with ease, grabbing a piece of the fruit and popping it into his mouth, "Here, I'll bag this up and bring it for them."

The woman nodded, grabbing a bag out of a drawer and handing it to him. God, first he was checking up on John B and now he was bringing him snacks. Who had he become?

"Say hi to everyone for me, have fun!" she exclaimed with a wave as he ran out the door. He waved goodbye before heading to the garage to grab his bike. He hadn't ridden it much since he got his license, but he supposed it would come in handy now. With his GPS in hand, he hopped on. God, this was ridiculous. What was he even doing? He pitied John B, he really did. Of course, he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, but he did. Something about watching someone get the shit beat out of them just hurt; no matter who it was.

He didn't know how long he was riding on his bike, but he could tell when he had crossed the line into the south side. He was getting weird looks, mainly from the teenagers who likely knew who he was from Kook infamy, but other than that he was largely left alone. That probably surprised him the most, but he didn't know what he expected, really.

When he arrived at what was supposedly John B's house, he considered saying fuck it and turning around. This was stupid, John B hated him. He hated John B. So, why was he here? Before he could process what he was doing, he was in front of the door, fist raised. He knocked.

There was the sound of rustling and something falling over before the lock clicked the door opened. There was John B, clear as day. However, as soon as the boy realized who was standing on his doorstep he went to slam the door in his face.

"Wait!" Norman exclaimed before he even registered what he was saying, "I come in peace!"

The door opened again, except this time John B asked, "What do you want, Bates?"

"You look like shit," was the first thing he said, trying to maintain his image of utter hatred and assholery.

"Thanks, why the fuck are you here?"

Norman sighed, not sure how he was going to explain this one. He really had gotten himself into quite the mess. He made a note of avoiding eye contact as he twiddled his thumbs and muttered, "Uh, I saw what went down last night and you were out pretty bad after the whole thing and I guess I just sorta wanted to like, I don't know, make sure you're okay. I still fucking hate you, I just feel bad."

The other boy sighed and for a moment Norman was pretty sure he was going to have the door slammed on him again. He'd understand considering how John B felt about him, but he really did come in peace. Surprisingly, the boy opened the door wider to let him in. "My head is killing me and my face hurts like a bitch. Thanks for asking, kind of. The Sheriff visited me this morning which is also fucking with me."

"About what?"

"The gun," John B exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "...And my Uncle. DCS is starting to look into this whole living situation."

"Holy shit," Norman commented, "I didn't realize... sorry. Uh, here. My mom cut up some fruit, figured I'd bring some. Can't imagine you've eaten today considering how knocked out you were last night."

He tossed him the bag and John B caught it with ease, "You brought me... fruit? What's next? You pull a nurse costume out of your ass?"

"Fuck off," the boy sighed, hating how weird this was, "Your eye looks pretty nasty, have you iced it?"

"I woke up like thirty minutes ago so... no," John B answered with a shrug as he leaned against the table in the entryway. Norman scoffed and went off to find the kitchen. He was surprised the boy was letting him look around, but he was going to use that to his advantage. He pulled a small hand towel off of the stove's handle before nodding to the bag of fruit.

"Gimme the bag back, unless you've got a Ziploc bag anywhere around here," he commanded, looking over at the boy who now had a confused expression and a mouthful of mango. Silently, John B walked over to a drawer in the kitchen and pulled out a plastic bag, handing it over. "Thanks."

Talking with his mouth full, charming as always, John B asked, "What... what are you doing?"

"Just shut up," Norman sighed as he walked over to the freezer in search of ice cubes. Grabbing some, he placed them in the bag, wrapping it in the towel, and walked back over to the other boy, "Here's a makeshift ice pack since you don't have shit in this house, put it on your eye."

"Having you help me is insulting," John B commented and the boy rolled his eyes.

"Well, where are your friends now, huh? Just let me help you and we don't have to talk about it," the boy sighed, "You're holding it wrong, shoving it against your forehead won't do shit."

Norman groaned as he walked over to the boy, grabbing his wrist to pull the ice pack out of his hands. He grabbed John B's chin gently to get him where he needed him to be before gently pressing the back against the purple and red bruising around his eye. He wasn't aware of how close they were until he felt John B's bated breath against his chin. Norman did his best to ignore this. He grabbed his wrist again, placing his hand on the ice pack with it now in the correct position before letting go and stepping back before it became too obvious as to how much he was freaking out.

"Be gentler with it, you'll just make it hurt more if you press too hard," Norman instructed, avoiding the boy's gaze.

"Geez, you're so bossy," John B said, rolling his eyes but very clearly following instructions. "Anything else, doctor?"

Norman shrugged in response, not sure what else there was to say. It was then that he remembered something Kie revealed earlier. A small smile formed on his face as he asked, "So, I hear you talk about me?"

The boy scoffed, "Yeah, about how much of an asshole you are."

"Aw, so your friends don't know how hopelessly in love with me you are? Sorry, me and my "perfect hair" can do a lot better than you," he retorted with a devilish grin, happy to be annoying John B again.

"You kissed me first."

"Don't bring that shit up."

"Just proving you wrong."

"Asshole."

John B laughed, "Yeah, you sure seem to think so while you're nursing me back to health."

Scoffing, Norman crossed his arms as he leaned against the kitchen counter, immediately launching into blatant denial, "I can think you're an asshole and still help you. It's called having a multi-faceted personality. You wouldn't know since your only personality trait is being a dumbass. Also, I know for a fact you don't hate me because drunken and beat up you was very happy I stuck around."

The boy went to say something, but he stopped as something changed in his eyes.  He abandoned what he had been about to say in favor of, "That was you?"

"I did not carry your passed out ass back to the van just for you to sound so offended just then," Norman gasped in mock offense, "Yes, as a matter of fact, it was me. You were very concerned about my bleeding nose."

"I was not."

"You sure were."

Without even noticing, the two had stepped closer to each other. There was little space between them, but both of them refused to act as if they had noticed. Instead, John B retorted with the always clever, "Whatever. Get out of my house, I've seen enough of you in the past 24 hours."

Norman raised his hands in surrender with a small, teasing smile as he walked towards the front door, knowing he had won. Once he was outside on the doorstep, he turned to see John B leaning against the door frame. He looked as though there was something on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn't sure if he should say it or not.

"Uh... thanks. You're still an asshole, though." With that, the door closed in his face.

It was stupid, but Norman smiled the whole ride back to the north side.

so this chapter, just like the last one was almost 4000 words and I'm just wondering like do you guys prefer the longer chapters? because this story is doing way better than most of my newer stories and that's saying something considering how fucking many new stories I've been posting. do you guys want me to keep these chapters in the 2500-4000 range?