EIGHT UNTIL HE DIDN'T

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     Norman's heart was still beating uncontrollably when they finally arrived back at John B's house. As they were piling inside, he checked his phone to see three missed calls from Alisha and one from Gemma. With a sigh, he pressed down on Alisha's name first.

"Rocky?" the girl's voice rang through the phone.

"Are you on the phone right now?" John B asked as they began settling down, Norman nodded and pressed a finger to his lips hoping all of them would be quiet.

"Rocky, who the fuck was that? Who are you with? I'm at your house and you're not here, are you on a bender or some shit?" Alisha asked. He couldn't imagine the day she had after he left judging by how harsh her tone was. He wondered if she was pissed off at him or just frustrated with him disappearing on her.

He sighed, "No, not exactly. I'm not with anyone."

"Liar," he heard JJ mutter as everyone crowded around him, remaining quiet. It was clear they were anxious with anticipation as they waited for him to finish up so they could dig into the package that had been left for John B.

"I can hear people, where are you? I'm not stupid, Rocky," Alisha sighed through the phone. "Listen, I'm not mad at you for leaving earlier, I just want to make sure you're okay and you're not getting into some sort of trouble because you think we're all mad at you."

Nope, no trouble. Just running for his life, not once, but twice, kissing John B, and having a run-in with the sheriff. "No, I'm not getting into any trouble. You can spend the night, hopefully, I'll be home soon."

Alisha sighed, clearly not wanting to take what little information he had given her, but he wasn't exposing that he was hanging out with a bunch of Pogues. She loved him, but even she would judge him for that. Which, now that he was thinking about it, is kind of ridiculous. However, he didn't really feel like being a mediator in class warfare right now.

"Fine. See you soon. I hope," she huffed before hanging up before Norman even had a chance to say goodbye. He felt bad, he really did, but his hands were tied. He couldn't leave now when he had gotten so deep into it already.

With a sigh, John B raised an eyebrow, asking, "You done?"

Norman nodded, which prompted Pope to ask, "Angry girlfriend or something?"

"Alisha is not my girlfriend," Norman denied, his mouth still tasting bitter over having to lie about them earlier that day. The thought of him ever dating Alisha was too outlandish for him to even comprehend.

John B scoffed, "Why don't you tell your actual friends that, dumbass."

"Dude shut the fuck up," Norman spat in a rare occurrence of genuine anger. John B brought out the worst in him, he had to remind himself. Just like John B had said earlier, they weren't friends. They never could be.

"Drama," JJ hummed as he spread peanut butter on a cold slice of bread.

"That bread had mold on it three days ago," Pope observed with a disgusted expression on his face.

"I'll just pull off the bad parts," JJ shrugged. "Plus, mold is good for you. It's just a natural organism."

Norman pointed over to the counter with a shrug, "There's cold mac and cheese if you don't wanna eat mold."

Kie shook her head as she called everyone over. John B placed the lamp down on the table and observed the package they had found. Norman watched as JJ took a bite of his weird peanut butter toast and immediately spit it out.

"Yeah, I'm going with the cold mac and cheese," he muttered as he ran back to the kitchen before they got started, returning with one of the bowls Norman had left there earlier. Ignoring this, John B pulled a large, folded piece of paper out of the package, unfolding it gently as they all looked on.

"Holy shit," the boy muttered as he flattened it down on the table.

"What does it mean?" Norman asked as he tried to make sense of the scribbles on what looked to be a map.

Pope pointed to the "X" hastily drawn on the paper, "Oh, what if it's X marks the spot?"

"Longitude, Latitude," John B muttered as he traced the lines on the map, "Wait, there's something else in there."

Reaching into the discarded package, the boy pulled out a tape recorder. It had been a long time since Norman had seen one of those. Clearly, it resonated with John B because he looked as though he had seen a ghost.

"What's that?" JJ asked and Norman had to hold back a small laugh. He was going to blame it on the fact that JJ was stoned and he really hoped the boy was smarter than he had made it seem.

"It's a tape recorder, dumbass," Kie told him, her expression stony and serious.

While they were talking, John B pressed the button to play the tape recording. A voice Norman had never heard before began speaking, "Hey bird."

"Who's Bird?" Kie asked.

"It's what my dad used to call me," John B mumbled in disbelief as the tape recording continued.

"I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. And you doubted your old man. I suspect at this moment, you're filled with guilt and self-loathing after our last fight, but don't kill yourself just yet, kid. I didn't expect to find the Merchant, either. You were probably right to call me out. Wasn't exactly father of the decade. What can I say, kid? I could smell the barn. And hopefully, we're listening to this in our brand new sugar shack down in Costa Rica livin' off passive investments and pulling on permits. If not, and you find this for less than optimal reasons, well, that's what the map is for. There she is, the wreck of the Merchant. If somethin' happens to me, finish what I started. Go for the gold, kid. I love you, Bird, even if I didn't always act like it. I'll see you on the other side." The recording concluded with a static crinkling before the silence overtook the room.

"That's what this was about," Norman muttered, breaking the silence as he made the connection, "You're looking for the Royal Merchant."

Kie nodded, but everyone had eyes on John B and the tears brimming his eyes.

JJ was the next to exclaim, "Holy shit, he did it."

Norman wasn't paying attention to that, though. Instead, he ran over to where John B clung onto the doorframe so hard he thought his nails might make indents in the walls while sobs wracked his body. Without even having to think about it, the boy wrapped his arms around him and let the boy cling onto him. Right now, nothing mattered because John B had heard his father's voice for the first time in almost a year and Norman could only imagine how much that could ruin a person. They weren't a Pogue and a Kook right now, just Norman, and making sure that John B was okay.

JJ was still gushing about the Merchant to which Kie responded, "Can you just please --"

"Sorry, sorry," the blond muttered, quieting down. Moments later, Kie joined them, wrapping her arms around both of them as they tried to calm John B down.

"Hey, hey John B," Kie whispered gently, "Let's just go down to the dock, okay? Some ocean air might do us good. It'll be okay."

John B nodded, doing his best to calm down as he came off of the wall, but didn't quite separate from the two of them. Kie let go, but he held onto Norman which made it harder for him to create space between them. He wasn't sure he wanted to in the first place.

"I swear, I don't normally cry this much," John B mumbled, speaking directly to Norman.

The boy only shook his head, his immediate response being, "You don't have to apologize. I'd cry, too. I don't know who wouldn't."

He nodded, wiping his eyes but avoiding eye contact. The others gathered up their things, Kie grabbing a guitar from the corner of the room as they stood in the doorway. The girl raised an eyebrow at them, asking, "You coming?"

Norman looked at the state of John B before turning back to the girl, "Give us a minute?"

She nodded and the three of them left the room, leaving just John B and Norman. He didn't know why it seemed so riveting for it to be just the two of them. The last thing he wanted was for Alisha to be right, but he wasn't so sure of himself anymore.

"Why are you still here?" John B asked after a moment. It sounded like a rude question, but there was no malice in his tone. Just weakened confusion.

"Is that you asking me to leave?"

The boy hesitated before answering unsurely, "No."

"That's why," he offered in a measly explanation as he leaned on the other side of the doorway, facing John B doing the same thing opposite him. "I lied earlier today."

"What do you mean?"

Norman didn't know why he was saying this now or why he was saying this at all, but it was too late for him to stop now. Maybe it was the yearning for him just to say it out loud, just for someone else to know the truth. Norman didn't even know what the truth was anymore. Still, he spoke barely above a whisper, "I did feel something. When you kissed me. I don't... I don't know what it means, but it's nothing good."

Immediately, John B's expression shifted. It went from one of confusion to one of understanding, which Norman hadn't expected. He went to say something, but Norman walked away before he could. As he tried to leave, the boy reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning him to face him.

"Norman --"

"You know you're the only person in the world to call me Norman?" he cut him off before he could finish what he was going to say. Norman had a sinking feeling it wasn't going to be what he wanted to hear, so he was going to make sure it wasn't said. "Even when you're making fun of me with your stupid nicknames, it's almost always Norman. I've hated my name forever, but my mom was an art freak and when she married someone with the last name Rockwell, she took the opportunity and I got stuck with a shitty old man name. None of my best friends call me Norman because they know how much I hate it and secretly I think they hate it, too because even when we're being serious they still call me Rocky. It never changes."

"Why are you telling me this?" the confusion on his face had returned as John B asked his, his fingertips burning on Norman's wrist but neither of them moved to let go.

Norman shrugged, "Because I hate it slightly less when it comes out of your mouth. I think this truce has run its course, after tonight can we go back to hating each other I think that's easier for everyone. Today was a fluke and I think you know it, too."

"I'm not so sure anymore."

"Don't get soft on me, Booker," Norman deflected, trying to keep his face and voice as emotionless as possible. He could never have a crush on John Booker Routledge. That was bad news waiting to happen. He was impossible, he was irritating, and Norman absolutely hated him. Until he didn't. "Come on, the others are waiting."

As much as he didn't want to, he yanked his wrist out of John B's grip and walked out the door. When he was almost down the pathway to the street, he heard John B call out behind him.

"Norman, wait!" he exclaimed, chasing him down the porch and to the street. The boy turned around to face him, not sure what the boy was going to say. "I-I don't think today was a fluke. Also, I technically declared the truce off when I made fun of you for being afraid of the dark which I will continue to make fun of you for, but that means you have been nice to me out of the kindness of your heart and not because of a truce. I'm pretty sure that proves you do in fact have a heart, which I honestly wasn't sure of. No more stupid rivalries or whatever we had going on, let's just put the past in the past and be friends."

"That's the thing," Norman sighed, "I can't put the past in the past. When I kissed you that night last summer, I think it meant something different to you than it did to me. I think you are straight and were drunk and it was some weird ego thing for you. For me, it may have just ruined my life and I am not in a place to deal with that, and being around you has made it so much worse."

"How? How is being friends with me going to make things worse?"

Norman scoffed, shaking his head. "Because John B, I don't know if it's boys or if it's just you, and both of those are bad news all around. I can't think about anything else but you when you clean blood off my face, but to you, you're just doing me a favor. I followed you blindly to a fucking graveyard tonight even though those possess like three things that terrify me --"

"Except snakes, apparently."

"Snakes are cool, fuck off," Norman interrupted his rant to say before continuing, "This is also the first time I've talked about my feelings in probably my entire life so if you could just shut up for once in your life. Hating you will always be easier so if you could kindly just call of the truce and go back to calling me stupid names that would just be great. You make me confused and I cannot be confused, not with the life I live."

"Norman --"

"Just like... go fuck yourself and goodnight, or something," was all Norman could bring himself to say before he ran off in the opposite direction of the docks. He wondered if John B would chase after him or if he would even call his name. He wouldn't be able to hear if he did because the thoughts in his mind were too occupying for him to pay attention to anything else.

Once he was far enough away, he slowed to a stop and pulled out his phone, dialing the same number he had earlier.

"Hello? What's up, Rocky?" Alisha asked, her voice sounding surprised that he had called.

"Can you come pick me up? I'm down on the Cut."

"What the fuck are you doing there?"

"It's not important, just please?" his voice cracked as he asked and he really did not want to cry right now. Norman didn't cry. The girl muttered a quick 'fine' through the receiver before the line went dead and he texted her his location. It wasn't long before Alisha pulled up next to him in his car, unlocking the doors.

When he got in, she stopped and looked at him for a moment. "Rocky, what's going on?"

"I think you were right."

"About what?"

"I might have a crush on him."

writing this chapter made me cry because i had to watch the scene where they hear the tape recording and seeing my baby john b cry makes me cry so now here's an emotional chapter featuring norman self-sabotaging you're welcome