Are You Locked Up in a World That's Been Planned Out for You?

Mike could sense something was wrong as soon as I had gotten into his car. After all, I was clearly nervous. I was fidgeting, barely making eye contact and I had barely contacted Mike this week, only lasting a two minute phone call just to quickly make plans for tonight.

His eyes bore into me the second I shut the door and put my seatbelt on, and he didn’t waste any time in questioning it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked as he pulled out of our designated meeting spot, a church.

“Um… nothing.” I tried to hide, but Mike stopped the car momentarily to shoot me a look that said he didn’t believe me before continuing down the road.

“Well one of my friends wouldn’t stop gushing about her older boyfriend and he’s only twenty seven. She was telling me how careful she was in the beginning, but how she got lazy towards the end of the secret which lead to their discovery. I guess it’s made me a little nervous, that’s all…” I cautiously stated.

“Well then, the solution is to not get lazy, and we won’t get caught.” Mike sneered firmly, using a matter-of-fact tone.

I didn’t like the tone he used, but I decided to not question it, not wanting to create any unnecessary drama.

I also knew Mike was suspicious of something, but whether he knew what to be suspicious of or not, I did not know. He was detective, and all the ones I knew were always on their toes. It was almost like they had a sixth sense when it came to people feeling uncomfortable. I just hoped the tension would clear in the air by the time we got to Mike’s house.

***

I had no real expectations of what I thought Mike’s apartment would look like. I guess what I saw matched what I should be expecting.

I wouldn’t describe it as “run down” in fact, it would probably be just a little nicer than our apartment (albeit ours was a two bedroom on a policeman’s wage…) but it was hardly a room at The Hilton.

It looked as though Mike had his furniture donated and not bought by him. The TV unit was wooden and a shiny black. One couch was leather and red, the other was a felt-like material that was coloured blue. He did surprisingly have a dining set – it was set to the side of the lounge room as there wasn’t a lot of room in the apartment, it was coloured an off-white.

He had his bedroom door shut, so I would not be able to get a quick peak for the time being.

“I’ve already cooked dinner; I just need to reheat it. Feel free to pour yourself a glass of wine and choose what to watch on television. None of that MTV crap though. I’m not sure what appeal that Beavis and Butthead stuff has on you kids, and don’t get me started on the music they play on that channel.” Mike loudly stated, rolling his eyes at the end.

“Psh, whatever old man. You choose then.” I smirked, going over to the coffee table to grab the remote before passing it to him.

“Oh yeah? Would an old man that does not enjoy cartoons know that Rocko’s Modern Life is on Nickelodeon right now, and that Ren and Stimpy is on afterwards?” Mike grinned at me, taking the remote and turning on the TV.

I nodded my head in approval. Those Nickelodeon shows were something I watched a lot by myself but rarely with company.

Beavis and Butthead were cool because it was a show designed for teenagers on a network aimed at a teen audience. Ren and Stimpy and Rocko’s Modern Life, although filled with hidden dark jokes, satire and double entendres was still a kid’s show on a kids network. Add that fact to my friendship group, a group of priate school pupils whose parents are among Manhattan’s most elite. The guys were allowed to like them because guys are “immature” but if a female was to admit liking those shows everyone at school would cast them weird looks.

This is another reason why I couldn’t wait to leave the pettiness of high school and find friends at college with the same socio-economic background as myself. It was also a good reminder to not become rich. What was the point in becoming wealthy if it meant that you couldn’t enjoy the small things in life in order to stay in your elite social circles?

I shakily poured myself a glass of wine, being a little nervous about the fact I was drinking underage in a cop’s apartment. What if someone from the department dropped by on a work related note? Especially if it was Profaci, Lennie or even Van Buren. Gulp.

I was awoken from my day dreaming by Mike putting a plate of spaghetti in front of me.

“Any true bachelor will inform you the best dish they can cook is spag bol. Anything better and they’re not a true bachelor.” Mike joked, as he took a seat opposite me.

“Bachelor or not, you’re a disgrace to your Irish heritage, Logan. Where’s your steak and Guinness pie?” I joked back.

“Hey, you’re a Mick too, so shut up and enjoy your alcoholic beverage.” Mike laughed, and I shot him a playful look before taking a large mouthful out of my wine.

***

“Wow, it’s nine thirty. You’re in no state to drive, so I guess I should leave soon to get public transport soon.” I said to Mike, shocked as I looked at my watch.

Mike and I had both downed a bottle of wine each, and were now both onto Mike’s last bottle. I was definitely past tipsy, I wasn’t sure how drunk Mike was but I knew by now he’d definitely be over the limit.

“Don’t be ridiculous. There is no way in hell I’d let you go home by yourself at this time of night, even if you were sober. I’m paying for your cab ride.” Mike hissed at me.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll look great when I stumble out of the cab clearly drunk as the elderly Chan couple leave for their nightly walk, or when Tracey from the apartment below us comes back from work, or just as Dad gets back from his nightly jog. Admit it, it’s not a good look.” I shot back.

Dad was home this weekend. His case load was pretty big, as Van Buren had decided that Mike and Lennie had far too many cases lately and they needed to spread the load over a few more detectives. It was partly the reason why Mike was free to cook me dinner tonight.

“Then just stay over here and I’ll drive you home tomorrow. Call your dad and tell him you’re sleeping over at Lennie’s kid’s apartment.” Mike suggested.

I thought about it for a moment. It would be nice to spend a little more time with Mike, all this sneaking around made it hard to see him on a regular basis. Although I was first nervous about who would come, the alcohol had made me relaxed. This was like a sanctuary, that Mike had complete control over. It was much safer here than it was anywhere else in New York. It would be comforting to spend the night with him too.

“Yeah, alright. I won’t use Jessica as an excuse though. She’s at Lennie’s apartment this weekend which means dad and Lennie would talk about it. Yeah…you know how that would go down. I’ll use my friend Millie instead, my dad has never even met her parents let alone have contact details for them.” I agreed, sending a shrug towards Mike.

“Right. Use the Queen of England for all I care, just make sure your dad believes it.” Mike sarcastically replied, handing me his landline phone.

I took a few deep breaths, finding myself growing nervous again. The only person who I ever called up Dad for and said I was staying at their house after all was Jessica, and dad would never bat an eyelid, as he knew her parents well. I’d only ever called up regarding someone else just to let him know I was staying for dinner. I didn’t know how well he’d take it, and had no idea what the hell to do if he said it wasn’t okay.

I dialled the number, and heard it ring. Maybe if it went to voicemail I’d be able to just leave a message and-

“Hello, Caine residence. Horatio speaking.” I heard Dad answer. Oh crap.

“Hey Dad. It’s me.” I said, trying to best to sound as sober as possible.

“Oh, hello sweetie. Is everything okay?” dad asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah, of course. The movie finished so we came back to Millie’s house to watch a few more. She’s having a couple of people over for an impromptu movie and popcorn marathon. Would it be okay if I stayed here the night? I’ll be back tomorrow.” I asked my dad, silently wincing at the end, as I was so nervous about how he would reply. Luckily, everything fell into place.

“Well, I don’t see why not. You’re eighteen, you’re not twelve anymore. It’s not a school night either. I trust you.” Dad informed me.

“Great. Thanks for that. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” I said to Dad.

“Of course. Goodnight sweetie, have a great night.” Dad said, and I muttered a bye before hanging up.

I immediately felt regret and guilt, and felt my stomach drop to the floor. Dad trusted me blindly, and I was going behind his back and breaching his trust in a shocking way. I definitely did not feel as happy about this as I thought I would.

I put the phone down and made my way back to the couch silently, where Mike was sitting. He had at least some idea on how I was feeling, he didn’t say anything but wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I fell into his torso, and we cuddled for a few moments before he grabbed my chin to cock my head up before engulfing me into a kiss.