How I Met You

Chp 11:

Deacon:

I could feel a sense of awkward tension between us ever since the sex had concluded and once we were both clothed again and winding down for the night.

She slipped on a matching lounge set and I threw on my sweatpants and the T-shirt she had taken from me. But despite us hanging out, she had only muttered a handful of sentences to me and one of them was "do you want to go grab pizza?"

I looked at her with a questionable look etched across my face but I nodded in agreement and she grabbed her house keys and her wallet and I watch as she slips on a pair of sandals as we leave our apartment building and walk a few blocks down to a convenience store.

The fluorescent lights cause me to squint as my eyes adjust from the dark city streets to the relatively busy shop; and towards the back there is a small pizza spot that operates out of here until two in the morning.
She approaches a gruff looking guy who's maybe in his mid forties and she tells him she'd like two 'Pepperoni', then she hands him a ten dollar bill and he gives her two decent sized cardboard boxes that are in the shape of a pizza slice.

I take it upon myself to head for the refrigerator section and I grab a Heineken and she grabs herself one too, then we go and pay for our drinks before we step back out onto the dimly lit sidewalk of Philly.

We walk a few blocks before she finds a bench and we sit down, as I listen to the sounds of sirens whaling in the distance and the occasional car driving passed us.

We listen to the noise of very faint jazz music being played on the street by a street musician and we watch as people walk all around us as they dip inside bars that are still open, liquor stores, or apartment buildings.

I look over at Mari and I start to try to dissect why she was acting so off.

It had been a month of knowing her, and I had picked up on many of her small little quirks; one of which was when something was on her mind, she would go silent and muster up very little to say.

It frustrated me, "Did I....do something wrong? Was the sex bad? What's going on?" I ask, only half joking about one of those questions. She stops taking a bite of her food as she turns her head to look directly at me.

"Who were you texting? Maybe I sound psycho or insecure but it hurt."

My eyes widen a tad bit at her bluntness and I stare at her, never in my life had I been asked that before. But I inhale and then exhale. This was it, I needed to tell her now. "I'm going to tell you this...and I need you to be willing to listen at first." Her brow furrows and she leans back into the all black metal bench we sit on.

"Okay...what is it?", "I'm working on a case...it's your father's case. I was reaching out to him." I tell her as I set my beer down on the ground on the right hand side of me. There is no emotion behind her eyes, she stares at me blankly and her lips part ever so slightly as if she was going to say something, but she doesn't.

In fact, she's silent for what feels like hours but I don't think five minutes had even passed yet. "Samara..." I say as I snap my fingers softly in front of her and it's as if I was Houdini and I had just brought her out of her trance. "My dad...what do you mean his case?"

I sigh and rub the back of my neck before nodding, "Your dad...is currently awaiting a trial and he has been charged with human trafficking, drug trafficking, two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, and money laundering." I say, but there was a dry tone to my voice. I clear my throat and I run my hand over my jaw, my fingers now supporting one side of my face.