Flowering - Part Sixteen
This episode is part of a larger story, Soft Touch. If you haven’t yet, you can go back and read it from the beginning right here.
“Man, your new place is sick.” Noah stands in the center of the living room, his grey eyes slowly roving over everything. “Looks great, all unpacked.”
“Thanks!” I say brightly, looking around at it again, seeing it with new eyes now that he’s here. “I’m super happy about it. Think Aiden is, too.”
“Um.” Noah lets out a snicker of laughter, his gaze dropping to my face. “Yeah, I think he fucking is, bro. Have you looked at him lately? My mans is cheesin’. Pretty much nonstop.”
I try and fail to suppress a giant grin, plucking at the sleeve of the sweater that I borrowed from Aiden. Noah is right. Aiden has been all smiles, since this place became ours.
Noah laughs when he sees the expression on my face. “Yeah, just like that.”
“Shush, already.” I bite down on my smile, trying to get it under control. “We were talking about the new place, not me and Aiden!”
“Yeah, it’s real nice.” Noah cracks a grin of his own, then slips something out of the pocket of his bomber jacket. Two joints, expertly rolled. “Let’s smoke it out, right?”
“Oh, I didn’t know you were bringing some.” I hold up the two that I rolled, which are about half the size of Noah’s. “Guess we’re very stocked.”
We put all four down on the coffee table, and Noah shrugs out of his jacket while I power on the Xbox. He catches the second controller when I toss it to him.
“We’re about to go on a fuckin’ journey, Keane.” He throws himself down on the couch, tucks one of the joints into his mouth. “When you smoke someplace you haven’t smoked before, you get way more high.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s true. We’d better be careful-”
I break off, staring at Noah. He had reached out for the coffee table, and I thought he was going for the lighter. He was actually reaching for another joint, which he proceeds to put in his mouth right beside the first one.
“What-?” I begin, then press my fingers to my cheeks as he reaches for a third, then the fourth. “Noah!”
I don’t follow that up with anything. I’m fighting down a laugh at how fucking ridiculous he looks with all four joints in his mouth. He leans forward to reach for the lighter, and the movement causes all but one of the joints to escape and fall from his mouth. They tumble back down onto the coffee table.
Noah takes the one remaining joint out from between his lips, then holds it up with a reverent expression on his face, as if it’s some precious, holy relic.
“We have a chosen one,” he says solemnly.
I let out a sputter of laughter, then whack his shoulder with the back of my hand. He grins, then hands me the joint and the lighter.
“This is gonna be a disaster,” I tell him, as I spark it up. “We’re gonna be a disaster.”
“Relax, Jamie.” Noah takes the joint from me, takes a long hit, and blows out two long furls of smoke through his nose. “We’re gonna be just fine.”
~~~~
“We’re dead,” I inform Noah, without taking my eyes off of the screen. “We’re dead. We’re so dead.”
“No, man. I have a plan. Have faith in my plan.” Noah had been focused on navigating his character through the dry desert scenery on my TV, but now he pauses, looks over at me. “Wait. What’s happening? I’m a little unclear.”
“Oh, my god? I’m gonna throw this controller at you, dude. What’s happening is that we’re level forty, but we’re sneaking around an area with level fifty enemies, because you cooked up some plan in your horrible brain-”
“Oh, yeah yeah yeah, I remember.”
“Why did I let you talk me into this?” I groan, moving my character behind a stack of crates, avoiding a lurking nearby enemy. “We’re gonna lose all of our gold, if we both die - you dumbass, Noah!”
“Excuse me.” He lets out a slow, stoned laugh, then gestures at his character. “I’m a Lieutenant Colonel, okay? Address me as such.”
“Yessir.” I give him a salute. “Do you remember your plan, Lieutenant Colonel Dumbass?”
“Yeah, matter of fact I do. We’re gonna set up way far back, and I’m gonna take out some of the level fifty enemies with the sniper rifle. We’ll be too far away to trigger a fight, but we’ll get a ton of gold for killing them. We’ll level up, too.”
“That’s the plan?” I let out a heavy, anguished sigh. “You’re fucking up right now, man.”
“Trust me.” Noah stops his character behind a cluster of rocks overlooking an area filled with enemy robots, and I stop mine behind him. “We can do this.”
“Noah, I really think it’s gonna trigger the fight, even if - don’t, dude!”
Too late. Noah gives me a conspiratorial wink, and fires. The crack of the sniper rifle echoes through the game, and I stare in horror as all of the enemy robots swing around, then charge right for us, already firing.
“Oh, fuck,” I gasp, and then Noah and I are both fighting for our lives, shooting wildly into the onslaught. “Noah, goddamnit! Why do I even bother?”
“We can handle it,” he answers, almost shouting. “Don’t run, don’t run!”
“I’m not!” I let out a long stream of curses as I burn up my clip, rush to slap in another, and start firing again. “But we are so fucked-”
“No, man!” Noah swaps to his machine gun, his character surrounded by a pile of fallen robots. “We’re doing okay!”
“You were saying?” I ask, as a huge, formidable enemy robot emerges from behind the rugged side of the mountain.
A giant, blinking red skull is hovering over its head, one that means do not even attempt. Noah immediately starts firing on it anyways, and I let out a sharp gasp as his character is near-instantly killed in response. His corpse topples limply to the ground and fades away.
“Fuck!” Noah shouts.
“Oh, no,” I groan, hurling a grenade at the massive enemy. Then another, then another, until they’re all gone. “Noah, what did I tell you?”
“It’s okay, I respawned, I’m coming back, just don’t die!”
I keep firing at the giant robot, popping the smaller ones when they get too close, trying to dodge all the attacks coming my way. Watching my ammo burn up, watching my own health bar sink and sink until it’s down to the last few points.
And then Lieutenant Colonel Dumbass comes flying over the hill at full health and unleashes on the massive robot, a huge hail of grenades followed by a burst of gunfire.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, as its health bar sinks down to a short strip of red. I’m wide-eyed and tensed-up, practically on the edge of my couch, and Noah is, too. “Oh, shit-”
We both throw everything we have at the enemy, and then - the robot explodes into steaming, hissing pieces of metal, leaving behind a whole lot of loot. The one remaining small enemy robot scurries up to us with a shred of health left, and Noah melee attacks it, delivers one powerful kick to its chest. It bursts apart like the bigger one, and the game falls silent.
Then there’s the level-up sound, two times, accompanied by a swell of victorious music.
Noah and I sit there in stunned silence for a second or two. Then we swivel to stare at each other with huge eyes.
“Oh, my god!” I shout, and shove Noah’s arm.
He bursts into triumphant laughter, and I do, too, in total disbelief. Noah springs up from the couch, grinning from ear to ear, and slams the controller down on the cushions hard enough that it bounces onto the rug.
“Who’s Lieutenant Colonel Dumbass now, Jamie? I am the supreme warrior, a king among men, unwavering, un-fucking-defeatable-” He bends down to rescue his controller, then clutches at the couch, swaying a little. “Oh, I’m very high. I forgot, for a sec.”
“I feel normal,” I tell Noah, and he makes a skeptical face at me.
“Oh, yeah? Stand up.”
I do, and realize all at once. “Oh, no.”
“Right,” Noah laughs, balancing himself with one tattooed hand on my couch. “Oh, shit - yeah, I’m - how - howmuchdidwesmoke?”
“Wha? Oh, I don’t know.” I rub my eyes, my vision gently swirling around the edges. “We didn’t smoke the third joint already, did we?”
“Did we?” Noah asks Luna, who is perched in the armchair with her tail tucked neatly around herself.
She lets out one of her signature yowls at Noah, who blinks, startled. He turns to me, one pierced eyebrow arched.
“I’ve offended the lady,” he tells me, gesturing to her.
“That’s actually how she sounds all the time. I’m hoping that’s her way of saying no, we didn’t smoke the third one already.”
“No, c’mon, we wouldn’t have fuckin’ done something stupid like that. That would’ve been dumb as hell, we had literally just finished the second one-” Noah cuts himself off, looking down at the place on the coffee table where the joints were lined up. “Ummm - okay, so-”
“Oh, god.” I let out a helpless laugh, swaying on my feet. “Should we get some air?”
“Yep.”
I reach out for Noah, and he leans onto me. He doesn’t usually let me into his personal space like this, but I think we’re both relying on each other to keep our footing. He’s holding a fistful of my sweater, and I’ve got him by his torn-up shirt.
Luna watches with obvious amusement as Noah and I slowly set off on a wide, swerving course for the kitchen door.
“Aiden is definitely gonna know how bad we fried ourselves,” I tell Noah, who shakes a strand of his long hair out of his face.
“Well - maybe we’re not as stoned as we think?”
We were looking at each other while we talked, not paying attention to where we were going. We miss the kitchen door completely, bounce softly against the door frame, and take a few startled, stumbling steps back.
“This is awkward,” I tell Noah, as we gather ourselves together for a second attempt, clinging to each other for support.
“Tell me about it, bro. I feel like we’re fuckin’ slow dancing, or some shit. Never speak of this to anyone.”
This time we both try to go through the door at once, and we’re both sent rebounding off the door frame again.
“Who-?” Noah asks, struggling to pull a full sentence together. “Who’s steering?”
“Sideways?” I suggest, and we turn to sort of shuffle our way into the kitchen. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, Aiden’s gonna know.”
“Nah, bro. Just be inconspicuous, like this.”
Noah lets me go and turns around as he steps into the kitchen - where he instantly bonks his face against a copper frying pan hanging from a hook. Gently, not too hard, but each of his face piercings makes a loud pinging sound against the pan upon impact.
“Nailed it,” I tell him, battling down a laugh.
"Shit, that wasn’t there the last time I was here!” Noah laughs, too, then gazes around at the kitchen. “I turned left without looking. I’m used to the kitchen at your old place. Must be on high autopilot.”
“Well, that explains why you’re the first and only one to walk into the pan, Noah,” I tell him, steadying out the frying pan. “I should have known it would be you.”
I laugh as Noah gives me a shove.
“Hah,” he says to the doorway, as if we defeated it in combat, and then - “Okay, now where are we?”
“This way, hang on-”
I lead the way to the back door, then open it up to the garden. Noah and I sit down together on the step.
Night has painted the garden in cool colors, dusted everything with moonlight. Yesterday’s rain has dwindled to a whisper, tiny droplets fluttering down at a slow, lazy pace. The air has that crystal pure taste it gets after a good long stretch of rain. I take deep, slow breaths of it, letting it ground me again. Slowly drifting down.
Noah does the same, relaxing back on his palms, his legs stretched out so that his feet are on the grass. The moonlight spills down over the lines and swirls of ink covering him. The pale glow of it spreads down the tattooed tiger on his shoulder, all the way to Ripley’s snow leopard in the crook of his elbow. It touches the little geometric design right beneath his eye.
The breeze combs gently through his long black hair, and he lets out a quiet, contented sigh.
“You seem happy,” I tell him, and he flashes me a small smile.
He straightens up, tracing a fingertip over his golden engagement ring.
“Yeah, man. Got my fiancés, my baby.” He gives my shoulder a little shove, his smile widening. “My boys. Things are just - good.”
I return Noah’s smile, affectionate warmth welling up in my heart.
“And that weed was good, too,” he adds, breaking into a grin.
“Seriously. Given that it took us three tries to make it into the kitchen.”
Noah laughs, then puts an elbow on his knee, rests his chin on his palm. Silence falls for a moment.
“It’s the bud that Ralph randomly gave me,” Noah says suddenly. “When we ran into him in the movie theater parking lot.”
“Oh.” I glance at Noah, caught by surprise. “That was a while ago. Thought you’d have burned it up by now.”
“Nah, I hadn’t touched it.” Noah shakes his head, gazing out at the garden. “Didn’t want it. It was - from him.”
I bite my lip. “But you brought it over tonight?”
“Yeah, I…” Noah shrugs, his eyebrows furrowed in vague confusion. “I don’t know. For some reason, when I looked at it tonight, I felt a lot less, like… almost kinda felt like…”
Noah fades off, leaves his sentence unfinished. I’m not sure he knows what he was going to say.
I toy anxiously with the sleeve of Aiden’s sweater, then steal a sidelong glance at Noah. He gave me an opening to bring up what I wanted to talk about, but I’m nervous to take it. I don’t want to accidentally cross into territory where I’m not allowed.
But Noah and I have been able to talk about so many other things. Maybe he’ll talk to me about this.
“Funny you should bring up Ralph,” I say slowly, picking my words carefully. “Aiden and I saw him, yesterday.”
Noah’s grey eyes swiftly flit to my face, blinking in surprise. He hastily looks away again and stares straight out at the garden, his expression difficult to read.
“Oh, yeah?” he asks. And then, after a moment, very casually - “How’s he doing?”
“Man, he’s so different, these days. You wouldn’t even recognize him. Seriously.”
Noah shifts slightly beside me, lets his long hair tumble forward to hide his face. “Different how?”
“Um.” I struggle for a second, trying to think of a way to sum it up. “Just - light years away from the guy he was before. Quiet, surprisingly. More honest. A lot more honest. He was honest with me about stuff that’s obviously difficult for him to talk about.”
I hesitate, then lean forward so I can catch Noah’s eye.
“Stuff that he feels bad about,” I say meaningfully.
Noah stares at me, his grey eyes narrowed - then suddenly wide with complete disbelief. He lets out a soft, humorless laugh, breaks his gaze away from mine again.
“Yeah fucking right,” he murmurs, in a hollow voice. “I doubt that he’s felt bad about it for one second. He doesn’t give a damn about me.”
I nudge Noah’s arm with my elbow, and he glances over at me. I give him a stare brimming with significance, trying to talk to him with my eyes.
He misses you, I tell him, without speaking.
Noah stares back at me, reading the message in my expression, then turns away again. He stares silently down at the grass for a moment.
“Jamie,” he says slowly, in a rough voice, “The night I left the house, Ralph told me - to my face - that I didn’t mean a fucking thing to him. He said that to me.”
I close my eyes, wincing with my whole face. A sharp stab of pain flashes through my heart, and I desperately want to give Noah a hug, even though I know he won’t like that. I make myself stay back, but it’s a hell of a struggle.
“Well,” I answer, “We all know that Ralph is a world-class liar. You sure he was telling the truth?”
Noah holds very still, then looks up at me sharply. His grey eyes are blinking hard and fast.
“That - he - are you saying-?”
“I don’t think that it was true,” I blurt out, all in a rush, before I can think too hard about it. “Based on the conversation I had with Ralph, I just - really don’t think it was true.”
Noah stares at me, an ocean of complicated, conflicting emotions swimming in his eyes. Then he slowly turns away from me, stares in motionless silence out at the windswept plant life.
I give him some time for everything to sink in. A minute or so passes by, the fluttering rain sprinkling down in moonlit waves.
“Are you telling me he wants to talk?” Noah asks, very quietly.
I twist the ring around my finger, working through my thoughts.
“You know, you shouldn’t feel any pressure to do that, man,” I finally answer. “It’s totally fair if you never want to see Ralph again. Totally fair to cut people out, if they hurt you, and that’s what’s better for you. My mom did that with my biological father, and it was definitely the right choice. I ended up with the best stepdad I could have ever asked for, because she did that. And she’s way happier for it.”
I pause for a second, but Noah doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t look at me.
“No one would hold it against you, if that’s what you chose,” I tell him. “Not even Ralph, I don’t think. But it seems to me…”
I trail off, keeping the rest of that thought to myself.
It seems to me like both you and Ralph wish you could fix this.
“If you do want to hear Ralph out,” I say instead, “I’m pretty sure that he would want to talk, too. I just thought you should know that. You’ve got the option. Up to you, if you want to take it.”
Noah stays silent for a good long time, his elbows wrapped around his knees, tattooed fingers loosely woven together. I watch him, nervously nibbling my lip, hoping I didn’t overstep, talking about this -
Noah suddenly gives me a soft punch on the shoulder, casts a small smile my way.
“Thanks,” he says. “For letting me know. Appreciate it. Never would have thought the option was out there.”
I nod at Noah, relieved, and return his smile.
“Guess I’ve got some thinking to do,” he murmurs quietly, half to himself.
We both fall silent for another minute or two, and then Noah turns his head, makes a face at me.
“Heavy stuff, man,” he says, and I groan-laugh.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s fine.” Noah gets to his feet, then nods at the house, breaks back into a grin. “But let’s go smoke the fourth joint, right?”
“Brilliant idea,” I laugh, getting to my feet behind him. I rub my eyes as I follow him through the door. “Man, every time we stand up, I get high again. Aiden is definitely going to know that while he was being a responsible adult on his sobriety call, we were down here smoking three entire-”
I break off, having bumped into a wall of hard muscle. My eyes fly open, and I find myself staring up into two beautiful pools of blue.
“Three what, Jamie?” Aiden laughs, as Noah snickers at me from behind him. “You two, I fucking swear. I’m amazed you didn’t hotbox the whole house.”
“Hey, babe!” I try not to sound flustered, but my cheeks are definitely burning. “Um - how was your call?”
“Good.” Aiden caught me by my elbows when I crashed into him, but now he lets me go and playfully ruffles my hair. “Heard you two fools shouting down here. Something happen?”
“Mhm. Lieutenant Colonel Dumbass led us to victory.”
Aiden twists to look at Noah. “I assume that’s you, Noosh?”
“Yeah, that’s me! Come see the loot we got from this shit, man.”
I watch in silence as Noah shows Aiden the rare items we got for taking on the overpowered enemy that we were in no way qualified to fight. He’s bragging about our victory, exaggerating shamefully, making Aiden laugh - but I can tell that some part of him is still deep in thought.
I don’t know what Noah will choose to do. I do know that talking to Ralph would be seriously, seriously hard for him. But I’m not sure that part of it would make or break his decision. Noah has never been one to run from seemingly impossible battles. Never.
What really matters is whether or not Noah decides that this battle is worth fighting.
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