Yes

The coffee really helped.

It didn’t sober me up completely but after a couple of cups I was able to speak without mumbling again. Norman was still with me, sitting across from me in a booth at a random café, a large coffee to-go in his hand. He was smiling while staring out the window. His jacket was open and revealed a black t-shirt with a strange print on it. It looked like that robot from that cartoon you always see on TV.

You know; the one that looks like the Simpsons but with all the aliens and shit?

Whatever, couldn’t remember.

I kicked his leg under the table teasingly and looked at him over my large porcelain cup.

“Wut’cha ‘inkin’ ‘bout?”

Okay, I still mumbled a bit.

His gaze met mine and I felt a little bump on the left side of my boot. “Nothing. Are you coping, tequila?”

I felt my stomach churning. Never again, I thought to myself with eyes closed and stuck my tongue out at him.

I nodded and took a look around me. The café was small and filthy; violet holstered booths divided the customers in private little cubes and the lighting was really bad. It made everything look fake: watching this place was like watching a bad movie from the eighties. But they sure made good coffee. I silently thanked Norman for bringing me here. A warm sensation was filling my stomach and without it I think I would have hit a toilet stall somewhere.

Or the pavement.

Three girls sitting at a booth in the back of the café caught my eye. They were staring at me and Norman with crazy eyes. I kept my eyes locked at them while drinking my coffee. They had phones in their hands.

What did they want?

“Hey, can we get out of here? Can I take you home?” Norman’s voice made me lose my focus on the girls.

He was standing up.

“Sure, but no cabs, okay?” He put his arm around me like he had when we were leaving The Politian earlier. I wasn’t sure if he didn’t think I could walk by myself but whatever his reasons were, I didn’t mind. He smelled of cigarettes, beer and something I couldn’t remember was.

Cotton, I think.

..............................................

“What time is it?”

We were walking down Wade St. at a slow pace. The streets weren’t as crowded as they usually were on Thursdays and the sky was black. He still had his arm around me even though I already had proven to be fairly good when it came to moving my feet without falling. I bit down on my lip and glared up at him from under my blonde hair. The same tensed expression on his face as before was still there.

“Around three,” he mumbled absentmindedly.

I came to a stop. He turned around to look at me with surprised eyes.

“What's wrong?” I asked, maybe a little too loud.

I could hear two guys that were walking past us say 'uh-oh' to each other.

I flipped them off. Norman put his hands in his pockets and let his face fall down, making his hair cover it.

“Nothing’s wrong, we just need to go, ‘kay? Tell you later.”

“Norman, Norman!” A male voice sounded from the other side of the street.

“Fuck.”

Suddenly three guys were coming at us, all of them with cameras in their hands. What seemed to be hundreds of flashing lights startled me and I blinked my eyes rapidly as the sudden change forced small black dots to appear before my vision. Norman mumbled something to me, put his hand around my shoulder and started pulling me away from the three men.

“Hey, don’t go. We just wanna see how you’re doing! When is the show starting? Is it good to be back in the City again? Norman, who’s your friend; is it your new girl? Norman can we get a picture?”

Flashing lights everywhere.

I pulled up my coat so it wouldn’t blind me completely.

Shit, I thought to myself. Maybe that’s why he was acting so weird? But how could he have known that they were going to be here?

I was panicking.

Even though I’d had time to sober up, my stomach didn’t seemingly like the sudden fast movements and the city lights were blurring before my eyes; almost like they dancing.

“Listen guys, I really just need a night off tonight, alright?”

Norman’s voice sounded off and nervous and he’d put on his ray bans. They’d hung casually from his t-shirt all night.

I wanted to kick their butts.

Norman suddenly stopped and pulled me close to him so that I stood with my face pushed up against his chest. He had his arms around me, protecting me, and making sure the cameras wouldn’t get to me.

It felt like we were being raped right there in the middle of the street.

My heart was pounding hard in my chest and I almost thought I could feel his through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“That’s it, how are you doing, buddy?” one of the rapist cheered.

Buddy?

Jerk.

“Doing good,” Norman answered politely, still a nervous tone to his voice.

It felt like a bass on my cheek and the air between us felt warm and sticky.

I wrapped my arms around his torso, not knowing what else to do.

Should I run?

He obviously didn’t want the cameras to get a shot of me and I knew the situation was out of hand. But he’d tried it before. That’s why he seemed so off before. He’d known something was about to happen. But how?

The men around us were shooting questions at us and I could hear whisper from farther away.

“Norman, who’s your friend? Can we meet her?”

I felt his hand on my head, pulling me closer to him.

What was he doing?

“No. I really just wanna be left alone, guys.”

I felt sad.

How come they didn’t listen to him? Left him alone?

I could hear a female voice coming somewhere from our right: “Hey you jerks, let them go!”

Adrenalin rushed my ears.

Suddenly the sound of tires and the smell of leather.

My head was still leaning on Norman’s shirt, his hand on the back of my head.

“Where to?”

Weird movement.

Norman’s voice.

“Babe, where do you live?”

Were we in a car?