Chapter 2: Talk, Talk, Talk
The only good thing I can say about that kid is that he's persistent. He spent the rest of the day sitting on my doorstep whining at me, and it was only when the sun had completely set and it was nearing dinner time that he hauled his ass home. 'Jesus Christ,' I thought. 'That kid sure has a lot of time on his hands.'
But the next day he rang my doorbell repeatedly at Way-Too-Fucking-Early in the morning until I got out of bed and opened the damn door. Then the little punk slipped inside and helped himself to my supply of food, nicking my cereal. My cereal! Would you fucking believe it?
"What the hell are you doing?" I growled.
"Coach said the best time to talk to you was at 6 am," The goddamn early-bird answered cheerfully.
I snarled silently. I was going to kill Coach. And the kid eating away at my sanity while I was at it.
"So me an' Keith are jus' at the mall, see, cos he wanted me to help him find a present for his girlfriend, yanno?"
Three hours.
"And then I see it! The mos' beautiful thing I've ever seen. Ya know what it was?"
Three. Fucking. Hours.
"It was Jimmy Gibbs Jr's car!"
The little fucker's been talking for three hours. I've gone through six cups of coffee trying to stay awake but he still doesn't seem ready to shut the fuck up about him and Keith.
Jesus Christ, I feel sorry for Coach if this is what he has to go through every day.
"Hey! Nick! Are you even paying attention?" He waves a hand in front of my face.
"No. I haven't." I snarled in reply. "Do you know why? Because last night I went to sleep at 3 am. And today you woke me up at six in the fucking morning. In total, I've had three hours of sleep. And I feel like shit. That, kid, is why I'm drinking coffee like an addict."
"Oh, well, sorry 'bout that, Nick." The brunet said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head. "And m'name's Ellis."
"I really don't care, kid. Could you, I don't know, go find your buddy Keith and talk to him instead?" I sighed, rubbing my eyes.
"Huh, so you were payin' at least a little attention to me. Keith's off in California shootin' ducks with his family." He answered.
Well. That's just great.
"What about Coach?" I mumbled, my head dropping onto the table.
"He's workin' right now. Ro's busy too. Don' worry Nick, I won't kill ya or anythin'. You can go to sleep."
I lifted my head to stare at him. Innocent blue eyes stared back. My head dropped back down onto the wood. "No."
"Eh? Why not?"
"One, I don't trust you. Two, you'll probably start a party in my house. Three, I don't trust you."
"Aw, c'mon! I ain't gonna do that. Ya can even ask Coach."
"Ellis. If you fuck off, I will go to sleep." I gritted out. "But I am not going to let you run amok in my house. I barely know you, and I don't trust Coach's word."
The kid frowned and fell silent, looking pensive.
"I need more coffee," I announced abruptly, rising to my feet to grab the jug and plod to the kitchen. The kid followed, of course.
"No, really, I didn't know. If I did, I woulda waited till a bit later. Coach didn't tell me bout it or nothin'." He pestered.
"Yeah, okay," I muttered, draining another cup of coffee as I leant against the wall. "It's not like it matters anyway. I'm awake, aren't I?"
"Hey, I have an idea!" The brunet announced with a grin. I levelled him with a green stare and raised an eyebrow in question. "Let's visit Coach while he's at work! He always says if I'm gonna visit, I gotta bring someone else to 'drag me off if I start ramblin' too much.'"
"Well, it's better that having to suffer you alone," I grumbled, grabbing my keys and heading for the car.
"I hate traffic," I stated calmly, my hands digging into the steering wheel.
The kid sitting beside me brightened up. "Hey, that reminds me of the time me an' took this amazin' car for a s-"
"Not now, overalls." I hissed, rubbing my aching head. "I really don't want to be involved in a car crash."
"Okay." The kid obediently fell silent. Jesus, was that all I had to say to make him shut up?
I veered towards the high school Coach worked at, parking the car and sliding out. The kid bounced after me enthusiastically, chattering away again. "An' then there was this one time when Keith-"
"Ellis?" A surprised voice cut in. "Is that you? With Nick?"
"Yup!" The brunet chirped. "Nick is awesome!"
Yeah, well, I'd have to be to put up with the kid.
"Hey, Coach, I heard the local supermarket had a bargain on chocolate," I said with a faint smirk.
"I hear the casinos finally wised up and kicked you out, Nick." The dark skinned man returned dryly. "You're just in time. How'd you turn up when I let my team go around two minutes ago?"
"I'm psychic," I deadpanned. My eyes narrowed slightly and I shot metaphorical daggers at the man when the kid had his back turned to us. He didn't need to see us arguing. Coach shrugged slightly in answer, jerking his head at the brunet.
"He's a good kid," He muttered, before raising his voice slightly. "Hey, Ellis, c'mere."
"Eh? Oh! Okay." The boy blinked and trotted over, tilting his head curiously. Coach leaned forwards and whispered something in his ear, causing the brunet to stare at me. I glared back. What was the asshole up to now? The kid brightened up and nodded his head enthusiastically, while my glare intensified. Anything to do with me that made the little punk happy wasn't good news.
"C'mon, Nick, let's go for a lunch break." Coach called.
"I can't have a lunch break since I don't work here," I pointed out dryly, though I followed the two anyway.
I frowned suspiciously, poking the meat dubiously. "And... You're sure this is cooked." I stated, glancing up at Coach. He was happily munching away on his cheeseburger on the other side of the table, while the kid was practically snuggling up to me on this side. Why was the stall so damn cramped anyway?
"C'mon Nick, it ain't gonna bitecha!" The thorn literally in my side chirped. "I'm eatin' it an' I'm just fine, see?"
"Yeah, well, I like not ending up with salmonella, thanks." I sniped back.
The kid frowned slightly at me. "Nick, ya ain't gonna feel any better if ya don't eat. Lookit it, it looks fine. Ya already paid for it, ya might as well eat it instead of havin' to buy somethin' else down the line."
Ugh... The punk had a point. "A'ight, Ellis," I answered sarcastically, purposely copying his accent as I picked up the burger and reluctantly nibbled at it.
The brunet bristled slightly, looking indignant, before Coach intervened. "Why you gotta pick on Ellis? He's just tryin' to help."
"Yeah, yeah," I waved a hand at them. "Calm down you two, I'm eating the damn thing, aren't I? Not my fault if the kid can't take a joke."
Hmm, maybe if I'm enough of an asshole to the punk, he'll go away. I glanced to the side, to see Coach muttering something I can't make out to the kid. He grins and immediately launches into a tale. Jesus Christ, what the hell did the man say to him?
"You know, you two should go look for Rochelle," Coach intervened, before the brunet rattles on too long. "An' Ellis? Midnight Riders."
What? What're they on about? I'm confused, but the kid isn't. He brightens right the fuck up and nods enthusiastically before glancing at me. That's twice he's done that. I'm really feeling insecure about this.