The Trapeze Swinger

1.4

"Slow downa tick! Imma bit dizzy," he panted, slurring his words as he slowed to his usual lolloping gait beside me. I snuck a glance at him and felt my heart lurch as I realised his head was turned to look at me, frowning as if trying to discern something. I flicked my gaze away, the thudding drums of hot blood pulsing in my ears.

"Just 'cause I don't really get on wiv your brother doesn't mean we can't be friends you know," he finally said, speaking slowly so as to not slur. I turned to him, surprised.

"Oh, that's good... I mean, I'm glad," I tripped over my answer, heat rising to my cheeks. Somewhere at the back of my mind I wondered if he'd ever have made such a blatant declaration of friendship whilst sober.

"I never know what ta fink wiv you," 2D continued, twiddling his fingers clumsily as he did so, "Sometimes you wanna talk wiv me and then other times you're all unfriendly."

I wanted to snap that he was exactly the same, the memory of his nonchalant brush off that afternoon playing back over inside my head, but I managed to bite the words back. The boy was drunk, he didn't know what he was saying.

"Sorry," I found myself replying instead, taken aback to find just how much I truly meant it. After a pause I ruefully added, "I'm not so good at making friends."

Reaching the back fence with its brightly painted mural, I pushed the door open roughly with the sound of creaking hinges. The collection of caravans that waited beyond were all mostly dark, their tenants most likely soundly asleep as whatever late hour it was.
Thinking only of Lou and whether he was safe, I momentarily forgot the blue haired boy behind me as I set off along the left hand side of the driveway. Nerves fluttered throughout the whole hollow inside of me, hands curling to white knuckled fists of trepidation as I marched towards our caravan.
It sat slouching at the top of the hill where it usually did, coated in spiderwebs we hadn't yet cleaned off. I stopped in front of the crooked steps, breathing hard but unable to advance. The dark windows betrayed nothing of whether Lou waited inside.

Softly, 2D cleared his throat from behind me, and I whirled to face him, mouth opening in a silent "o" of surprise.

"Don't you have a trailer of your own to go back to?" I snapped defensively, before wishing the words back.

"I was walkin' you home, like a real gentelsman," the boy slurred, black eyes blinking as he tried to focus on my face. The high alcohol content of his blood had softened his usually hard-set face, leaving his expressions so adorably childlike that I decided not to correct him on his mispronunciation.

"Oh... thanks Stu," I said, managing a small grin at his drunken drawl. Turning back to the caravan, I sighed as I explained, "I don't think Lou's made it back yet, and I'm scared. If the cops caught him, he'll get ID'd and I'll never fucking see him again."

I could hear 2D shifting on the gravel behind me as he processed the information, while hot tears welled in my eyes. He was drunk, he wouldn't even remember this conversation. I could say anything for once in my life and it'd have no consequences.
Taking a deep breath, I began.

"There were always only a few rules to follow when we were doing a deal; scout first, mapping exits and entrances and possible other players; then the second rule of sticking to our roles, with Lou on the business side and me keeping watch. All our contacts used to joke that I was a mute because I'd stand there watching everything go down so silently. The final rule was unwritten, 'cause I always knew instinctively not to worry when things went wrong because Lou would always get us out of it. And that was how it was, even last week when everything went to shit and I didn't know which way was up; Lou had a plan and he got us out. It's been that way every day of my life until tonight."