SIX FEEL SOMETHING DANGEROUS

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     The back of a police cruiser is something Norman never thought he would end up in. Being rich and white, he kinda knew that any wrong he did would end up nothing more than a slap on the wrist. That being said, here was with John B Routledge and Sheriff Peterkin. He should have known a Pogue would bring him nothing but trouble. He didn't care too much about that now, he was really just relieved that he and John B hadn't been murdered by those two guys. Norman was curious as to what sort of trouble the boy could have possibly gotten himself into, but even he knew that curiosity killed the cat.

The silence was deafening as John B stared empty-eyed out the windshield. Finally, Sheriff Peterkin said something, "So, how's it working out kid?"

"We almost got murdered and that's what you ask him? Norman asked with a bewildered tone before John B can say anything for himself.

Sheriff Peterkin shot him an irritated look before ultimately ignoring him. Going on to say, "It's a whole lot safer if you give it to me than anybody else."

"John B, what the hell is she talking about? What do you have that those guys want?" he questioned, placing a hand on the side of John B's seat and leaning forward to get a better view of the boy. There were tear marks cutting through the dirt on his cheeks and Norman found himself wondering if it was from the pain or from something else.

"The compass," was all John B offered as an explanation before he reached into his pocket to pull something out. In his hand was a golden compass that looked way too old to still be in the condition it was.

Peterkin looked amazed like it was some mystical object with all the answers in the world. To Norman, it was just a compass. Surprised, she said, "That thing probably saved your life. Concentrated the shock. Lucky."

The boy didn't humor her, handing over the compass with a solemn expression and no other words. With a sigh, Sheriff Peterkin unlocked the doors and John B opened it and got out. He stepped over, opening the back door to let Norman out who was happy to let his feet hit the gravel and get the hell out of there. John B was silent, but Norman's mind was reeling as the Sheriff drove away like nothing from the last hour had just happened. Hell, the woman hadn't even questioned the dried blood on Norman's chest and face.

"John B, what the hell was that? Why are those people looking for a compass? Can you tell me anything that's happening here because we were just chased by men with guns and that is something I can't comprehend right now, so if you could just explain --" Norman's line of questioning was cut short when John B collapsed into his side, sobbing. This was probably the most unexpected thing to come out of today. That included Norman asking him to dinner, so that's how bad it was. One of Norman's fatal flaws was that he never knew how to comfort someone who was crying. However, he did was his instinct was to do which was hold on. He wrapped his arms around John B's shoulders in an odd sort of side-hug. God, he was absolutely terrible at this, but at least he was self-aware. He had that going for him. After a moment, the boy sobered up and fought out of Norman's grasp, wiping his eyes and regaining his composure.

"If you ever tell anyone I just did that I will kill you," John B threatened, his voice still gruff and a little choked up.

"Why the fuck would I ever want to tell anyone that just happened?" Norman scoffed, brushing himself off and acting like his heart wasn't beating as fast as it was. It was all the adrenaline leftover from the chase, he convinced himself.

The sun hadn't even set yet, but this had already been one of the most eventful days of Norman's life. First, he confronts John B for stealing, his best friend punches him in the face, they get chased by two random guys, John B has some weird deal with the Sheriff, and last, but certainly weirdest, John B uses Norman as a shoulder to cry on. He needed at least three days of sleep to recover from this whirlwind.

After a beat of silence, Norman finds himself asking, "So, are you gonna tell me about that compass? Or...?"

"No," was John B's answer before he started walking away. Without even thinking about it, Norman followed him.

"Woah, woah, hey," he called out, placing a hand on John B's shoulder to bring him to a stop and get his attention, "No, no, nuh-uh. I saved your ass about three times during that chase at least because you run like you walked the mile in gym class. You totally owe me at least some answers as to why angry men with guns were and possibly still are after you."

John B whipped around, his expression confused and irritated, "I don't owe you shit! Why are you even still here? Peterkin gave you the option to go home back to your mansion on Figure Eight where you can pretend none of this happened, but you stayed. Why the fuck did you stay?"

"Because you got fucking electrocuted and I wanted to make sure you didn't die!" he exclaimed, getting angrier by the second, "I seem to be saving your ass a lot lately! I got punched in the face trying to get Topper off of you --"

"Aw, I'm sorry your perfect nose got a little bloody because of me, I'll be sure to keep that in mind the next time I'm getting the absolute shit beat out of me!" John B yelled sarcastically, pushing Norman away from him, "That compass was one of the only things I have left of my family history and I just gave it away because I was going to get murdered for having it. I'm 16, worrying about being fucking murdered just because I'm looking for my dad who was lost at fucking sea so I am truly, deeply sorry that you had a shitty day just by experiencing what I've been dealing with this past few days for less than an hour. If you think that's bad? Try walking in my fucking shoes, Norman. Try it."

Norman wanted to explode. There were a million things he could say out of pure anger as they stood in the street. He knew he needed to calm down, that things were going to burn far too quickly.

"I stayed because I was worried. About you," he forced out the truth, even though it killed him to say it. "It wasn't because I wanted answers or because I felt like you owed me something. I was worried. I'm sorry for being a... nuisance or whatever, I'll... I'll get out of your hair now. I hope things get better for you, I really do."

The other boy was silent as Norman turned on his heel to walk back to his house. Alisha had been the one to give him a ride this morning, so he now he was stuck walking. As he began to leave, he felt John B's fingers lace around his wrist and pull him to face the other way once again. He hadn't expected to get any pushback for leaving, he was fairly sure that was what John B really wanted. Maybe Norman had read things wrong and John B truly was better off without him. That his input and presence the last few days had been totally unnecessary. That was to be expected.

"No, stay," came the other boy's raspy and exhausted voice. Now, that was not what Norman expected. "My place is totally ransacked because of those guys and I could use some help cleaning it up. Besides, you owe me dinner."

"You know, I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do," Norman observed with a matter-of-fact expression as he crossed his arms. "If you ask me it really sounds like you just have a crush on me."

"Says the one who asked me to dinner."

"My mom always says we should give to charity," Norman retorted as the two of them began to walk down the street towards John B's house. Today still felt surreal. "That's all this is."

John B rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right. If anyone was gonna have a crush here, it's totally gonna be you. Like I said earlier, irresistible."

Norman shoved him gently by the shoulder, causing him to stumble a little bit and let a small laugh escape his lips. Chuckling, Norman shot back, "You're such a dumbass. Besides, you're the one who called my nose perfect. And I have witness statements that say you also think my hair is perfect. I can see right through you, Booker."

For a moment, John B stopped walking and it was clear something in his mood had shifted, "Hey, thanks. I just realized I never really said thanks for the night of the party. Or for the mango you gave me the next day, it was honestly really good, I never buy fruit so... it was nice. It's stupid, I know, but you really have made these past two days interesting."

"You've done the same for me, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had to lie to my friends that Alisha and I were dating, so thanks for unintentionally spicing things up," Norman said with a sigh, letting his mind drift back to the events of earlier that afternoon that had detrimentally fucked up his friend group. At least he could still find humor in it, he figured.

The other boy furrowed his brow, looking confused as he asked, "What do you mean? I didn't have anything to do with that?"

"Oh, man, it's a whole thing," he shrugged, "So, I told Alisha about the... you know and so she was being weird about it today still so when my friends started questioning things, she stood up for me by saying we were dating, c'est la vie, I get punched in the face. Also, you're like one-hundred-percent the reason I was running for my life twenty minutes ago, so there's that, too."

"So, wait, you're like actually gay?" was John B's next question, which Norman was dreading.

Norman shook his head immediately, "Dude, no. What about that made you think I was gay?"

"It's like you forget you kissed me sometimes, I'm hurt really, that I'm so forgettable," John B teased with a small half-smile teasing at the corner of his lips.

"You're not forgettable," the words slipped out before he could stop them and Norman immediately regretted it. However, they were out there now and he couldn't take them back. He could practically already hear John B making fun of him.

Surprisingly, he said nothing. Instead, he remarked, "So... you kissed me, but you're not gay. Or into boys, whatever you wanna call it. How do you know?"

"What the fuck do you mean how do I know? I just know I'm not gay," he lied. In truth, his own sexuality was one of the most confusing things he had ever been presented with. On one hand, he couldn't remember the last time he had any feelings for a girl. When Alisha kissed him, he felt absolutely nothing. However, he had only kissed one boy in his lifetime and he didn't even have a crush on him. So how was he supposed to know if he was gay or not? Even if he was, it wasn't like he could be open about it. His parents would disown him and god knows what his friends would think. Well, they actually opened up quite a bit since Gemma's transition started, but still, it's terrifying. It's scary to think that he's not what everybody wants him to be. The last thing he wants to do is let anybody down. If that means refusing to acknowledge something he could possibly be, then he was going to do it.

John B sighed, but then something lit up in his eyes like he got an idea. "Wait, okay, so this is stupid."

"So is everything else that comes out of your mouth, but continue."

"So, the last time you kissed me we were all fired up and drunk so you don't know what to get from it, right?"

"I don't like where this is going."

"Hear me out!" John B exclaimed, "We're both calm and totally sober right now so if you kiss me right now and you feel something then that could help you figure it out."

Norman groaned, not liking this idea one bit. It was certainly a dangerous line to tiptoe and the other boy had to know what he was doing by suggesting this. "That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. And I've heard a lot of bullshit from you, John B."

"Dude, I think it could help!" he offered with an offended expression on his face, "What are you? Scared?"

"Are you gonna bully me into kissing you right now?"

"If I have to!"

With a sigh, Norman knew the other boy was not going to be letting this go. Against all of his better judgment, he nodded. "Okay, fine, but if you make it stupid and roman --"

His words were cut off by John B grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him in for a kiss. It had been a year now, but the feeling was the same. The fact that he felt anything at all was utterly worrisome. This was not a feeling Norman wanted to be having despite how undeniably pleasant it was. He liked it, that was the worst part. He liked kissing John B. By extension, that could mean he liked kissing boys which was an absolutely horrifying thought for him to have. The boy's face was rough against his mainly because of the scraped skin and dirt, but he didn't mind. His heart was pounding so loud in his chest he wondered if John B would hear it and he would give himself away. Thankfully, the boy didn't seem to notice anything as he pulled away. The second his hands were no longer on Norman's cheeks, he painfully felt the warmth fade away as he cleared his throat and did his best to act like that hadn't happened.

"Anything?" John B offered and the boy really didn't know what to say. What do you say when the answer to his question was everything?

So, he did what he did best. He lied. "No, nothing. Can we go clean up your house and eat now? I'm starving."

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," John B nodded, but something seemed off with him now. Maybe Norman was getting his hopes up, what for he didn't know. Part of him just wondered if maybe he hadn't been the only one to feel something detrimental. To feel something dangerous.

this was the shortest chapter by far and I'm SORRY but you guys got a kiss so NONE OF YOU are allowed to be mad at me i swear to god this shit is till 2600 words when all my chapters for my other books are 1200 so y'all are getting FED no complaining