37 - 'trouble'

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You hear the clearing of a throat. "Uh, hey kid, dad's busy with a car at the moment" he mutters.

You let out a strained laugh before a slight grunt sounds from his side. "Oh, hey, ... uh, Wwwarrenn" you said slowly finding a name before you screwed up.

"My CAT dad's lovely mechanic" you forced a smile to Kendrick who nodded, half out of it already.

"Want me to pass a message on?" Ghost huffs.

"No, hello, Kendrick" Kendrick says vaguely introducing himself. "What are your thoughts of the effects of weed?" He says like a spokesman.

"This for a survey?" Ghost grunts.

"Nope just, our good, wonderful and horribly stressed friend Rory here was wondering if she could indulge a little" he says a smile on his lips as he continues the voice.

"What?" Ghost says clearly sounding unamused and confused.

"Puff puff" Kendrick says.

"Weed dad- Warren, sorry" you say into the phone.

"Uh, I'll have to go ask skipper then" He grunts.

"My Dad's nickname" you explain to Kendrick who looks up at you before nodding.

"I'll just let you know kid" he says a moment later before the call ends.

"I guess we wait" you shrug.

"Your second day of school and look at you" He smiles, his English accent heavy as he sits down against the wall.

"Look at me?" You repeated, a little confused as you watched him sit.

"Yeah" He nods, taking a hit of the blunt.

"Shouldn't you slow down there" you say seeing his eyes already bloodshot and glassed over.

"I'm fine" He chuckles. He looks up at you and pats beside him, you take the seat.

"You must be extra stressed then" you say attempting a joke.

Your replied to with a shrug and grunt. "Guess that works."

"Oh" you mumble, feeling a slight weight at his mood change. You weren't the best at comforting others and that was clear. You pursued your lips looking around for someone to take your place.

"What are you going to do when you graduate?" He asks sitting up slightly.

You clutch your bag to your chest like it's some sort of relic that holds your sanity. "Uh, I'm going to start a band" you smile, the words coming naturally.

"You play?"

"Yeah" you nod.

He seems intrigued. "What you play?"

"Electric guitar" you answer.

"Sick" He nods, "you any good?"

"Been playing since I was young" you nod, thinking back.

"Then pro" He laughs. "I used to play violin" He shrugs.

"That's pretty skillful" you say.

"Wasn't my thing though ... you play anything else?"

"I can play the keytar, little drums, base and acoustic come easily" you explain.

"Keytar, that's a first, those are the keyboard guitars, right?"

"Right" you nod.

"Well, I hope that goes well, I'll come see a gig" He chuckles.

You hum a small reply. Being in a band was a childhood dream of yours. You'd shared it with your father, but he shut you down and you let it go easily.

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