Ghosts ✔

069 • Juice

Juice's finger floated above the screen. Already a week had passed since she had written her number on his arm. Within and hour he had scrubbed the ink off his skin, but not without saving her number. For some reason he had been afraid that one of his brothers would think it was funny to give her a call. 

It had never been his intention to contact her. Why he had still kept the number, he didn't know. He didn't want a girlfriend, she would be nothing but a burden. A weakness. Still, his thoughts kept wandering to her. It wasn't just because she was beautiful – there were more than enough hot chicks around the clubhouse. 

But maybe that was the difference. She wasn't super hot. He didn't feel the urge to rip her clothes off. Her own words that she could call him whenever he wanted something else than meaningless sex, kept racing through his head. 

A part of him wanted that. 

But then what? What else could she give him? He was fine, he wasn't as broken as the time Lotte was forcing himself on him. He just didn't want all that crap – and right when those thoughts stormed through his head, he wondered why the hell he was looking so far into the future. She had asked him to grab a drink, not to marry her. They had been sitting at a grave together for hours and none of them had had problems with that, so why the hell was he making such a big deal out of a drink?

He couldn't deny that he had enjoyed her company, that she had called up some sort of feelings inside him. She had made his heart beat faster – since Dana no woman had managed to do that. Not even Lotte. 

But all that had happened on the graveyard, the only place where the old Juice still existed. That had also been the reason why he hadn't wanted to face her after that cancelled date; the moment she'd asked him out, he had been blindsided, being a prisoner of his grief and he had liked the prospect of her consoling presence. 

Outside the cemetery, he didn't like it. Outside those gates he was a different person and there was no doubt in his mind that she wouldn't be too fond of that other person. But no matter how blunt he had reacted on her a week ago; it hadn't scared her away. 

Somehow he appreciated that. Somehow it was the reason that he was still staring at that blinking cursor. 

Oh fuck it. He grumbled because of his doubting. If he wanted to see her, he should stop being such a wuss and just tell her. And so he typed: Hey. I know it's a week ago, but is that offer for a drink still standing? - Juice. 

She didn't answer immediately. He headed for Mikey's room and watched the kid from the doorway. He was sitting on the floor in front of the tv, the controller of the playstation in his hands. Juice had bought it for him a while ago so he didn't have to entertain him all the time. 

"Dinner almost ready?" Mikey asked without taking his eyes off the screen. 

"I'll fix something." 

He wondered if he had been so glued to the TV as well if they'd had the money when he was young. There was no doubt he and his sister would have demanded less attention of their mother, resulting in less beat-ups. 

His phone was buzzing. Okay. Where?

Juice hesitated. You got time today? It was last-minute, but there was a chance something came up otherwise. He didn't want to let her down again. 

Yeah. Same time and place? 

He agreed and tucked away his phone. 

. . .

Juice took Mikey to Amy. The boy was more often there than at home, but as long as the woman wasn't complaining, he was fine with it. The only one nagging about it was Kozik; he believed it wasn't good for the kid. Juice didn't care much – it was not his fault that his sister was in jail and that her ex wasn't permitted to see his kid. He did his best to take care of the boy, but he refused to turn his whole life upside down because of it. If Kozik really wanted to have a say in it, he and Amy should stop doing their little waltz. Right now, she wasn't his Old Lady and he had nothing to say about her.