Double Trouble novel Chapter 2

"Nahla." I laughed. You know those butterflies you get from time to time, usually when you're speaking to your crush, or your boyfriend? Yeah, well, I get those when I talk to my best friend. She is my light. She stops my world being dismal, because she is the thing that makes me happy. I am not ashamed to admit that. I have someone I can rely on. And even though I can take care of myself, I am happy having someone there for me if and when I need them. It is not wrong to have a friend, someone to confine in, although I don't often. "Please tell me you don't have any plans tonight?"

"Your brothers on another business trip?"

"Yeah. A last minute one."

"Perfect." Nahla chirped. "Should I expect you soon? Do you need a ride?"

"I'm at the gallery." I explained. "It's only about ten minutes away. Does it constitute a ride?"

"I don't know." Nahla hummed down the phone. "Am I a good friend?"

"The best." I brown nosed.

"Well then, damn, I'll even drive you back to your place first to get your stuff."

I smiled broadly. "OK, but-"

"No entering the house." Nahla interjected. "I know the rules."

"Thanks Nahla," I said gratefully. "I'll see you later."

"Five minutes." Nahla replied. "I'm just grabbing my keys now."

"Great." I said. It was just enough time for me to grab two hot chocolates from the café to go. I slid my phone back in my pocket and walked up to the counter. "With no one else ordering at that time, the line was clear and the barista looked up at me expectantly. "Two hazelnut hot chocolates please." I requested. The barista nodded and began making the hot beverages. Just as he was about to put the lids on and hand them to me, a phone behind the counter rung loudly. The guy looked at me apologetically.

"This might be my boss. I have to get this."

"Take your time," I replied. I knew Nahla wouldn't be cross if I was late. I had no reason to panic.

"Hello?" The barista said quietly into the phone. "Yes," he said, looking at me cautiously. Then, as I frowned, he looked away from me, behind me, in the distance. "Uh, two hot chocolates." He answered the person on the receiver. I cocked my head to the side. I don't think someone else was ordering the same as myself on the phone. If it was his boss, did they ring every time someone ordered something? I'd never heard that phone ring before when I'd been here. "Yes, sure. If you're sure..." The barista said before putting the phone down. He looked at me just as baffled as I looked at him. "Uh, these are on the house." He said. "Orders."

"From who?"

I scrambled inside, grabbed what I needed and then headed out again after locking the door. We'd had our door broken in a few times before, so I learnt where to hide the few expensive items I owned - my castoff laptop and my homework - out of eyesight. I'd changed the locks every time though, knowing the one-day it would only be kicked down again. But I liked the comfort of locking a door; which is why I didn't give up. Plus, I didn't want people knowing it was unlocked. It wasn't a free for all for squatters. Sure, it was bare, stripped of all of our parents possessions, but it was mortgage free, it was my families home, whether I still had a family or not.

I raced down to Nahla's car and buckled in again as she headed towards her house.

"So," she said smoothly. "What do you want to do tonight? Last night of freedom before school starts again." Her voice was smooth, powerful. I wouldn't be surprised if one day she just turned around and accounted that she was changing career choices to be a professional singer. I was definitely secretly routing for her.

"How about we paint each other's nails and have face masks? You know, spruce ourselves up a little for school."

"Darcy Decaux, I like your thinking girl."

~~

"Oh my God." Nahla said as I sat and painted my toenails. I looked up, brushing the violet colour on my foot by accident. I grimaced but turned to my best friend none the less. "Oh God," she said again before I could ask her what she was on about. "Holy shit."

"Nahla. Wash your mouth out with soap! Surely you should know better. You are the one of us that attends church after all." After my parents had died, I stopped going to church. I'd lost so much, I wasn't very thankful at the time. In the stint since then, I'd never gone back. Now I don't go any further than the graveyard: Twenty-nine steps forward and two steps right, to be precise. I have no more reason to cross that distance and venture into the church anymore. Maybe one day. Maybe I'll have another reason to gain my faith. As of right now, though, it is momentarily lost.