Last Night Part 2 of 2

Artwork by Ruby Knight
Artwork by Ruby Knight

Read Part 1 here
 
WE CREPT ALONG the backstreets, sliding along the shadows of the night and we made it to a set of shops, buzzing in the darkness. We gathered armfuls out shining cans from the bottle shop then moved on to the 7 Eleven. Callum bought cigarettes and a packet of Malt O’Milk biscuits which he ripped open before he’d paid for them.

‘King of biscuits.’ He said, the crumbs tumbling from his lips. I grabbed two pies and ate them quick and Callum looked at me like what the fuck? And as we walked out he dropped what was left of the money into my hand. Smiled. His eyes shifted down from my face.

 

We staggered along the middle of the road and Callum was drinking and reading out other peoples’ text messages from stolen phones and a car came by and I got off the road but Callum stayed, shuffled to the side. The car blared its horn and Callum turned to face the headlights. He held up his packet of biscuits, pointed to it. Then there was a phone ringing. (Callum had switched all the stolen phones to silent and some had already been remote deleted either way). Callum pushed down into his pocket, pulled out his phone. It was one of the girls from the party. Callum was talking, saying all this was bullshit and a mix up and he told them where we were and I pulled the phone away from him, hung it up.

‘You fucking idiot, you just told them where we are.’

‘Calm down, that was Sarah, she doesn’t know shit.’ I looked around for somewhere to hide and Callum kept at his biscuits, sat down onto a park bench outside a church, all lit up in the night.

‘We have to get out of here.’ I told him.

‘Relax, it’s fine.’ I ran over and hid just inside the church fence, down behind a bush and Callum stayed, his back to me, telling me what a pussy I was, asking if I was going to stay there all night, telling me I must have such a little dick.

 

The girls turned up after about twenty minutes and they got out and came over and they were talking to Callum and the blonde was with them and I came out from behind the bushes, straightened up my pants, pretended like I’d been pissing. Callum told them how someone was stealing shit at the party and we saw the dude and we told the guys but they thought we were bullshitting and they thought it was us and Callum told the girls how we’d emptied our pockets and we had nothing but the fucking guys, they still didn’t believe us and they swung a punch then Callum hit one of them and then we just bailed. Callum was talking about Danny Foye, saying how someone needed to tell him it wasn’t us and the blonde was there, right up beside me. She smiled.

‘So you guys are okay?’ She asked. I nodded. She tilted her head down, looked up to me. ‘So we didn’t get to finish our conversation.’ And behind her head, way down the street, I saw a car turning in, headlights drifting towards us.

‘You told them where we are.’ I said. I looked to her, spoke through my teeth. ‘You fucking told them.’

‘Told who?’ I wanted to slap her face like in the movies.

‘Callum.’ I yelled. ‘They’re coming.’ Callum looked over at the car.

‘That’s not them.’ Callum said.

‘It’s fucking them. She told them we were here.’ The car slowed as it came to us, then it passed, the passenger way down in his seat, looking out. Callum put his hand on my shoulder.

‘Hey calm down, man.’

‘We’ve gotta’ go find them.’

‘What?’

‘We have to go sort this out. I don’t want this shit hanging over my head.’ I told him. ‘Let’s just go have it out with them, right now.’

Callum looked at my face, leaned down to get a better angle on my eyes.

‘Alright.’ He nodded, keeping eye contact. Blue eyes, bright, even in the darkness. He smiled. ‘Let’s go get ‘em.’

 

 

About Andrew Hutchinson 3 Articles
ANDREW HUTCHINSON has won various literary awards and commendations and has had short fiction pieces published in literary journals and magazines, including The Sleepers Almanac, Vice Magazine, Overland and Voiceworks. His first novel, ‘Rohypnol’, was awarded a mentorship with acclaimed author Christos Tsiolkas as part of the Express Media National Mentorship Scheme.