Chapter 3 Sugar #2
My big girl britches fall to the floor and disintegrate.
I clear my throat and peer down and at my tan flats.
Some people just don't get that words can hurt too.
"Have a nice day," I mumble before turning away, walking away from him, and not looking back.
~~~
"I wasn't expecting you to be gone that long, Azalea," Mr. Terrip raises his eyebrow at me as I walk in the front door of the store.
"I had to stop on the side of the road to use the bathroom," I give him a smile and he shakes his head at me, obviously knowing I'm kidding.
"How was your coffee?" he questions, leading me to another cart of books that need to be put away.
"The half of my coffee I was able to drink was just wonderful, the other half was drunk by the sidewalk," I picture Grey and I running into each other.
"That's a shame," he chides, although I see right through him.
"It's not funny, I was heartbroken Mr. Terrip," I pat my heart as I step up onto my step stool placing a book on one of the top shelves.
"You should be more careful, Azalea," he shrugs and I turn around on my step stool, looking straight at his seasoned face.
"Well, it actually wasn't completely my fault," he hands me another book, and I put it in its place.
"I have trouble believin' that."
"I feel like you're coming at my throat here, Mr. Terrip," I send him narrowed eyes to which he just smiles at.
"You know that stranger I was telling you about earlier? The one I met late last night?" I question him, taking ahold of his slim hand as he helps me off my stool.
Always the gentleman, Mr. Terrip is.
"Not really," he doesn't even act as if he does.
"I'm gonna pretend you do," I decide, "anyway, I ran into him after getting my coffee."
"Him?" he peers over his reading glasses at me.
"I thought you knew he was a guy?" I raise my eyebrows and he takes a seat at the front desk, removing his glasses.
"I don't even remember what I did ten minutes ago, you expect me to remember everything that comes out of your mouth?" he says and I can't help but admire the way he always speaks the truth.
He once told me that the older you get, the less and less you care about what people think about you.
"It would make things easier," I sing and he huffs.
"Fine, fine. I'll make sure to pay attention," he sits his chin on his hand, acting like he's paying attention but he's probably not.
This isn't the first time he's done this.
"We had milkshakes," I mumble and he looks like he's about to fall asleep.
Well, I had a milkshake.
"He's a horrible friend," I wince, thinking about all the things he said to me.
"Better luck next time kid, the boy must not be a friendly person. You have to remember that not everyone is nice anymore," his voice turns fatherly.
"He's no boy," I sigh, picturing his manly structure and dark eyes.
"I don't want to be a part of this conversation anymore," he places his glasses back on his nose and I giggle.
"Don't be like that, Mr. Terrip."
"You're too young for boys," he points at me and I internally roll my eyes. He's been telling me this ever since I met him when I was old enough to walk from my house to his shop.
"Men. Plus, I'm an adult...for the most part," I correct and he makes a dismissive noise.
The bell at the front of the store chimes and I look to see Aaron walking in as cockily as ever. I internally sigh knowing I can't get out of this interaction him and I are about to have, unfortunately, he's already set his eyes on me.
He's attractive, I'll give him that. He always has been. He's also always been a complete arrogant womanizer.
It just so happens that he was my brother's best friend.
"Azzy," his pearly whites appear as he smiles, showing his dimples.
"Hello, A-a-ron," I nearly laugh at my own joke. He runs his hand through his light brown, wavy hair as his dark blue eyes focus on me.
From the corner of my eye, I see Mr. Terrip keeping a close eye on him.
"Gotta love that beautiful smile," he flirts.
"Still not gonna work," I remind him and he lets out a little sigh.
I wouldn't necessarily consider him a friend. He comes around sporadically, most of the time just to check on me, although I assure him I don't need checkups.
What I do like, is that he gives me money.
I'm sure I could be his pimp if I really put my mind to it.
Being two years older than me, he's in his late college years and he doesn't hesitate to tell me about his often 'hookups'.
The perfect hooker for my pimp scheme.
Not many people get on my nerves. He does quite a bit.
"Let's go talk Azzy," he places his admittedly nicely built arm over my shoulder. Yeah, so what, he's got nice arms.
He leads me to the reading space around the corner and I just notice Mr. Terrip rolling his chair over to where he can see us. He makes me laugh.
He takes a seat on the newer couch Mr. Terrip recently bought and I sit beside him, careful not to hit my back against the couch.
"Relax, Azzy," he smirks, "why so stiff?"
"I'm relaxed, I'm chillaxed, did you see what I did there?" I laugh, "y'know, combining 'relaxed' and 'chill.'"
"Genius," he gives me a dimpled smile, "beautiful and a genius."
"Aaron," I warn and he raises his hands in surrender.
I ease back into the couch and return my gaze to his.
"How are you, Azzy?" he questions softly, a concerned glint in his eyes.
I look down at my lap and close my eyes for a quick second in an attempt to clear my mind from the picture of when the crash happened.
"I'm doing okay," I plaster a small smile on my face.
"You can talk to me, okay? I know that it's hard for you, Azalea. You were the only one there; you were with hi-"
"Aaron," I stop him, feeling myself get shaky, "I'll talk to you if I need to. I'm fine, really."
No one knows what I saw.
Doctors tried to get it out of me. Aaron tried to get it out of me. Mr. Terrip even attempted.
I don't want anyone to know how bad it was. I want their mental picture of Jake to stay the way it was.
No one deserves to see what I saw, besides me.
His eye flicker between mine before he lets out a sigh.
"Are you okay, Aaron?" I question. I'm not the only one that was heavily impacted by Jake's passing.
Aaron and Jake were inseparable all throughout their lives. They were best friends and had been for many, many years.
They were in their last year of high school and Jake's death shocked the entire school. He was loved by everyone, especially me.
He wasn't just my brother. He was my best friend.
He would always look after me, even in school. When the kids would pick on me, he'd use what he and I would like to call the 'bark'.
He would 'bark' strong words at the kids and him being him, they would run off with their tails between their legs.
He would have to hold me back from attacking them as they walk away.
"Jake, I'm telling you," I start and he smirks down at me as I take a wider stance, "if you would've waited two seconds longer, I would've had all of them on the ground."
"You're wearing crocs, Azzy," he smiles and I look down at my admittedly cute periwinkle crocs.
How dare he insult me like this.
I bend down and move the strap from the front of my shoe to the back.
"Now I'm ready, I'm in survival mode," I giggle but instead of laughing like he should, he frowns at my shirt.
"Did they do that?" he looks down at the purple stain on my previously white shirt.
Joke's on them, they missed out on some delicious purple Gatorade.
"Well," I hesitate, "I guess they did, I didn't notice."
He gives me a pitiful look and I sigh.
He leads me down the hall and into the senior hall. I keep my head down as I walk, not wanting to see the looks on people's faces as they see me.
I stand beside him fiddling with my fingers as he opens his locker. I look down at my crocs.
They're underrated. I've even got little matching flower charms on them. Plus, gosh darn it if they aren't comfortable and they just slip on easily.
It's also not like I wear them every day. I have other shoes, they just caught me on a lazy day.
He closes his locker and we begin to walk again.
"Keep your head up, Azzy," he nudges me and I lift my head, "don't let them think they've won."
We stop at the bathroom and the bell rings. He tells me to ignore the bell and I sigh.
"God, could you get any uglier?" one had said.
"She just looks worthless, doesn't she?" another followed.
Before I can stop them, tears roll down my cheeks as what they had said to me finally registers.
I keep my head down and grab the shirt from Jake before turning to walk into the bathroom.
His strong hand grabs my forearm and he pulls me back around, facing him.
"Azalea Delilah Carson," he says lowly and I slowly raise my head, looking up at him.
I pull my shirt up and cover my face so he doesn't see how their words really affected me.
"I don't even know why I'm crying," I pull my shirt back down, "their insults were childish."
"They weren't even good insults," I try to humor up the situation, it doesn't really work.
"What'd they tell you, Azzy?" he questions quietly but I remain silent.
"Azzy?" he repeats.
"Azalea," he deadpans.
"They just said I was ugly, stupid, whatever," I wipe my face.
"Listen to me," he says sternly and I look up into his eyes. The same colored green eyes as mine.
"You're beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you any different," he tells me sternly.
"Put on that shirt while I go have a talk with those fuckers."
I shake the memory from my head and pay attention to Aaron in front of me.
"I'm doing okay," he smiles.
"How're your parents?" he questions and I tense up.
I've thought about telling him before. About their drinking and maybe even about the lashes I receive from time to time.
On the downside, Aaron's rich. If I tell him, his family will just blow it out of proportion. Maybe even send my father or even my mother to jail.
It's only discipline, right?
"They're doing pretty good."
? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?
Thank you for reading! I gave ya'll a little more of info about what Azalea's deal is. Stay tuned for the next one, you'll definitely find out more ;)
p.s. I usually update on Saturdays
*I don't edit*
Word count: 3831
-Ashlyn Montgomery