Page 34 of Indigo Sky

"Revan, Revan, man, I'm in deep shit."

“What? What do you mean, you’re in deep shit?”

“I—shit, fucking sidewalks.” The slapping of shoes in the background came through the speaker, and I realized he was running. “I fucked up. I fucked up bad.”

“I need more than that, Nate,” I said, already heading into my room to grab a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “What happened?”

He didn’t reply right away. Only the sounds of boots against concrete came through, and then there were sirens in the distance. I couldn’t tell if it was through the phone or my open living room window—maybe both. My stomach plummeted with a heavy dose of dread. Somehow, I knew Nate and those sirens were connected.

They’re coming for him.

He’s going to be arrested again.

I closed my eye and shook my head. “Nate, what the—"

“I’m almost there. Hold on.”

“Nate—”

The line went dead.

What the fuck?I stared at the blackened screen of my phone, scrambling to process what had just happened.

Nate had called. He needed help. He’d fucked up. He was almost here. What had been the point of calling at all? Why had he bothered if he was almost here?

Because I’m his best friend. Because he needed to talk to someone. Because—

The door flew open and slammed shut. I hurried from my room to watch Nate secure the three locks with shaking hands.He turned around to see me, still in just my boxer briefs. I had been getting ready for bed. I should’ve been sleeping by now. But instead, I was staring at my best friend and the look of panic on his face.

“What the hell was that about?” I demanded.

He puffed out his chest with a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Then, he took a step into the room, the expression of panic leaving his face with every passing moment. He was quiet, his eyes dodging this way and that, as if he was looking, listening, waiting for something to happen that didn’t come. And then he came to stand before me, the picture of calm and collected. Not at all like the guy who had called me not ten minutes before.

“I think I kinda overreacted,” he said before breaking out with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that.”

I could only stare at him for a second before cocking my head and asking, “What?”

He chuckled casually. “I …” He laughed again and ran a hand over his cropped hair. “I think I took a hit of some bad weed or something. Made me crazy paranoid.”

I groaned and turned to head back into my room. “Great. I’m going to bed.”

“Okay. Good night, Rev.”

“Yeah. ‘Night,” I grumbled, slamming the door behind me.

***

Now, before I get into this next part, I want you to understand something about my friendship with Nate.

From the time we were kids, I was aware he wasn’t a good guy. But I didn’t really get the vibe that he was a bad one either. Like, I guess I sorta accepted that he was just … fumbling through life in the fucked-up way he knew how, and I thought I could be the moral compass he needed to keep himself from falling off the track. I didn’t think he had it in him to fuckmeup while he was fucking himself up—you know what I’m saying? Like, even if he was destroying himself, he’d still hold me on some higher pedestal. Because it’s what I would’ve done for him. It’s what Ialwaysdid for him.

But, you know, joke’s on me, I guess, huh?

***

Nate was still sleeping when I left for work the next day. I’d had a feeling that would happen, considering how wasted he’d been the night before.

As I drove to the shop, I wondered how long Roy would put up with his shit. I wondered if there’d ever come a time when he fired Nate’s ass and what that would do to our friendship—if anything. I mean, I could see it going a couple of ways. Nate could be bitter that he had to find a new job, or maybe he’d take it in stride. I doubted it though. He was always the type to blame everyone else for his bullshit and never himself.