Operation: M.I.A

XVIII // Fears

This morning was extremely slow. Unbearably slow.

Either Zander or I had a constant grip on the cellphone, waiting for Rylan to contact us and tell us... something. Preferably, I was hoping he would call and tell us that everything was just a giant misunderstanding - that it was a dead end lead and there was no danger to be had for this morning.

But, I know, that when things get this messy - it is usually not a misunderstanding.

You know, at this point, I would even be okay with a phone call saying he is in major trouble. I glance over at a reckless Zander who is sitting in on the opposite side of our little trailer bed. He is tossing up the phone and catching it in the same hand, repeatedly.

He's worried. I know that. I am too, actually.

We seriously just need something to do.

Zander looks up at me and we share a knowing stare. He went out and brought breakfast back, but now we need something more productive to do.

"We could go canvas the area again," I suggest.

He tosses the phone up in the air again, but doesn't catch it this time. It lands softly on the covers. "No. We can't go anywhere near there until it's time."

"It's just a drive by," I explain, trying to let him see the logic. But apparently he his logic is entirely different.

"No!" he yells. I certainly did not do anything to deserve his short temper. I open my mouth to scream back at him - to tell him to stop yelling at me. But Zander puts up a large hand for me to stop before I even began.

I feel the anger in my veins rising up to my brain and fueling the annoyance and negative emotions in my heart. I swat his hand away and peer into his eyes harshly. "Well we have to do something, and you know it. So stop being a child and help me figure out what we should do."

He sighs. But it isn't a sigh of relief or defeat. It was more of a heavy breathe that told me he wasn't done being mad yet.

I think anger is his way of hurting. He would rather feel rough, intense emotions than the simpler, softer ones. His is worried and sick of pretending he doesn't care about his best friend. I know this now. I am trying to remember that as he is aiming it at me. I can let him be angry. It would be kind.

Or would it? Would it be better to snap him out of whatever angry trance he is in?

I look at his face and examine the features that are just a little harder under the pressure of a clenched jaw.

Zander feels my stare, I am pretty sure, and gets up. When he steps away I turn to watch him. He has a gun tucked into the back of his pants. I don't know how he managed to keep that on his person this whole time without me noticing.

Actually, I know it wasn't there last night because my hands were roaming his back as he kissed me... and I shouldn't be thinking about that.

He must have had it in the car.

He turns around and looks me straight in the eye. I don't even bother to hide the fact that I was staring at him. He knows its a hobby of mine.

I sit, expecting him to say something. I raise my eyebrow in question, urging words that I think he is holding back out of his mouth. Instead of following the program, he just leans against the thin wall and bites the inside of his bottom lip. His green eyes are still inspecting me.

"Yes?" I whisper. He scrunches up his face, contemplating something.

"You need to distract me. I can't handle this." His words are complicated and I am unsure of what they were meant to imply, but his tone was simple.