Illegal My Ass

Chapter 45- 'Try to stall him without taking your clothes off.'

Nate was pissed. I knew straight away as soon as I told him Drake’s chosen career path that he was livid, but I didn’t know who he was more angry at, Drake for being a moron an accepting the job or himself for kicking him out and pushing him towards this.

We talked it over, and over, and over. We decided we were going to help him; somehow we were going to help him. Nate said that he needed to talk to Drake about what happened, when Drake was not as high as a balloon, and get it all out in the open. Then it was intervention time, telling Drake he could be better and do better and all that psychobabble bullshit.

Probably the oddest three people to sit an intervention considering we had been either drunk or stoned ourselves for at lead 60% of our lives.

The trickiest thing was however, to get Drake to listen. Unless Drake was drunk or high, he had this wall up. This hard exterior that he thought protected him from these things called feelings. These strange ‘feelings’ we’re like sex to a nun for Drake. Completely fucking wrong.

I had suggested spiking his drink again, but Nate disagreed saying it would just send us around in circles. I think when the intervention time finally comes; I’m just going to spike my own drink. At least it would be remotely entertaining with a slight buzz.

Yeah, I was definitely the best person to hold an intervention…

Nate and I didn’t talk about me and Drake, or the little moment that happened when I put him to bed, or what Drake had said to him on the sofa. To be honest, I didn’t bring it up because I don’t think it mattered. It was way too complicated right now to talk about anything to do with a relationship between me and that boy. Nate avoided the subject completely because I think he was trying to come to terms with it himself before he said it out loud.

At the end of the day, the number one priority right now was not to get me and Drake together to have a Disney ending; it was to get Drake out of the shit storm he was currently in and keeping him out of prison.

I had a mission like this at the age of 16. I felt like Kim fucking Possible right now.

--

I was definitely not Kim Possible.

Kim Possible would not be shitting herself pacing the hallway outside of Drake’s door right now.

Kim Possible would be decisive and kick some ass.

Then again, Kim Possible was also ginger so what the hell does she know?

I was debating whether or not to wake him up because I thought the longer he slept, the longer he would be here without me trying to stall him. However I was also worried that he had stopped breathing since Nate left so I didn’t know whether to go in, check his pulse then try and sneak out without waking him.

I realised I was going to have to man up and make sure I didn’t have a corpse in the spare room of my house. I slowly opened the door and crept in. I felt like a creepy Uncle sneaking into the kids room while they slept I'm not going to lie. Like an actual ninja, I walked over to the bed where Drake was snoring away face first. He was still in last night’s clothes and one arm was dangling off the bed. The room was dark apart from the faint light creeping through the curtain.

I almost made it to the bed when I stepped on something.

“Oh shit!” I yelped as I tripped over this anonymous object, falling face first into the hard floor. My bare knee landed on the hi-top that had just caused me to fall ass overhead onto the ground, and I suddenly realised if I really was some kind of spy, I would be shot within the hour.

I remained on the floor for a while, cursing under my breath as that fall actually hurt a little bit. I realised there was still no noise from Drake, telling me my tumble didn’t actually wake him.