Chapter 15 #2
Alanis Morrissette. The name sounded familiar and I was quick to grab my phone to make a note to check her out as well.
Singer-songwriter…
“Can you keep a secret?” I asked shyly.
“Maybe.” Dreux’s smile let me know he was teasing.
“Sometimes, I write stuff. A song or something. It’s probably super emo garbage, but I don’t know.” I ducked my head, feeling lame.
“All music is emo, especially the good stuff,” Dreux reassured. “If there’s no emotion in your music, then it’s not worth listening to.”
Of course he knew just what to say. I snuck a peek at him. “Thanks.”
“When you’re ready and comfortable, I’d like to read or listen,” he offered.
My anxiety dissipated and I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. My heart just about stopped when he wrapped an arm around me. Unable to process why this felt good.
Taylor was still singing, talking about being down bad, and it made me think of Cameron. I hoped this night could lift her spirits and she wouldn’t regret her decision to leave Aidan. Because fuck that asshole.
Dreux’s hand captured mine. He ran his finger over the anchor tattoo on my middle finger, causing me to shiver. He was smiling when I looked up at him and I wondered if he knew the effect he had on me.
“So fitting,” he mused.
He didn’t let my hand go. And for some reason, I didn’t want him to.
“I also have a compass and quote on my side,” I mentioned.
Dreux glanced down at me, a brow raised. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It pays to have friends of age,” I joked. And then I admired his light brown skin and how it was smooth and empty. How despite being muscular, his hand was incredibly soft. “You ever think about it?”
Dreux gazed out at the sky, appearing thoughtful. “I sort of like that look where people have little doodles here and there on their arms, but I know my mom would kill me.”
My own mother just about had a heart attack when she discovered my tattoos. I didn’t doubt Angela would, in fact, freak out if Dreux went under the needle. Although, I’d argue he was probably nearly eighteen.
“Not to sound like a broken record, but thank you for being nice Monday when I lost my shit,” I brought up. “I realize I’ve got a lot of issues, and going forward I have to learn to let them go.”
Dreux was quiet for a beat, not rushing to say anything. He thought over my words and carefully responded. “Can I ask why you’re angry?”
“I don’t really have the answer. I think it started with my grandparents not liking me, and my father not being around. I guess I felt like the world was against me.”
“And now?” Dreux wanted to know.
Now I knew Scott’s side of things, and how sorry he was for walking away. It wasn’t my fault, and slowly but surely, I was learning the truth in that. “I think I’m coming down from it.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “Good.”
A soft click had me sitting up and looking over to catch Angela coming outside. She had a glass of what looked like lemonade in her hand. One look at me and she halted, disapproval instant.
“Hi,” I spoke up, giving a small wave.
After a week at the shop, she was tolerant of me more than anything, but there was no denying she wasn’t fond of my friendship with Dreux. It was evident as she stood there measuring how close we were sitting, where Dreux’s arm was still around me, and I was leaning into him.
“Hi,” Angela responded, clipped and formal. She came and handed Dreux the lemonade, which looked refreshing with its ice cubes and condensation-covered glass. “Lemonade?”
It was a nice gesture. Hospitable even. “No, but thank you, though.”
Angela turned, prepared to go back inside, but not without eyeing the two of us again. “Well, let me know if you’d like anything.”
I nodded my head vigorously, noting Dreux was trying not to crack up beside me. “Will do.” Once she was gone back into the house, and I was sure the coast was clear, I elbowed him.
Dreux laughed, leaning over and holding his side. And damn him for being so handsome and carefree I couldn’t stay mad at him. “I’m sorry, but you should see yourself when she’s around.”
He said it like Angela wasn’t intimidating. “Does she like any girl around you?”
Dreux sat back and shrugged. “I was in my feelings over my ex, so she’s a little protective.”
Tabitha. It was understandable Angela didn’t like her for cheating on her son, but she couldn’t hold a grudge against all of us.
Not that I wanted Dreux or anything.
“Besides,” Dreux went on, looking down at me. “Just a head’s up, Scott’s not going to be too happy when it comes to Bonham either.”
Right, because according to Bonham, my father hated him. I had to find out why. I was sure in time I could convince Scott he wasn’t a complete menace.
I ran my finger along the material of my ripped jeans, playing with a loose thread. “We’re just going to be friends, but I’m sure Scott’s going to have some thoughts about it.”
“Just friends, huh?” Dreux repeated curiously.
I looked up at him and shrugged, not wanting to out Bonham and the crush he held for Cameron. “Yeah.”
A horn went off and my cell phone buzzed, pulling me away from Dreux as I realized Cameron was pulling up in front of Scott’s house in her dad’s SUV and she’d sent me a text. I spotted Vanity riding shotgun.
“Girls’ night?” Dreux wondered as he spotted the duo.
I stood from the swing, prepared to go. “Yeah. I figured she could use the pick me up.”
Dreux seemed to agree. He soon leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and appearing thoughtful as he peered down at the porch for a moment. When he returned to me, he almost seemed kinda shy as a timid smile crossed his face. “Should we trade numbers…in case you ever need a ride or anything?”
He was asking for my number. I tried to play it cool because it only made sense since he was my ride to school and work.
But it felt like more.
Goose bumps pebbled across my skin at the idea and I willed my heart to calm the fuck down in my chest.
We quickly exchanged numbers and I tried to be nonchalant as I waved goodbye. Dreux merely smiled and nodded my way, his phone clutched in his hand, and Taylor still singing in the background. As I trekked down the porch steps to leave, I couldn’t help but think how the moment was perfect.
Cameron drove to her house where I met her mother, who was an older version of her from her looks, to her friendly and bubbly personality. Her father, Larry, was home watching something in their family room as we passed by on the way up to Cameron’s room.
Her mother was baking cookies for us and her father was drinking a beer and watching something on Netflix.
There was something so homey and nice about it.
Of course, Cameron was the girl she was with a homelife like this.
It must’ve been nice to come home to parents who were happily in love, supportive, and accepting.
In Cameron’s room, she shut the door behind us, and I took my time studying the four walls of her personal space. Vanity made herself comfortable as she took off her shoes and plopped down on Cameron’s full-sized bed and began scrolling through her phone.
Pictures of Cameron and Aidan were on her desk and wall, and it was easy to track their journey from childhood friends to high school sweethearts.
In one photo that caught my attention, Cameron and Aidan must’ve been in middle school; they were standing side by side in someone’s backyard.
Cameron wore a baby blue dress and Aidan was in khakis and a short-sleeved button-down as he stood next to Cameron smiling at the camera.
As cute as the photo was, I couldn’t help but notice Bonham in the background.
The three of them were in a yard, at what looked like a barbecue, and behind Cameron and Aidan, Bonham stood with his arms crossed staring blankly at the camera.
His hair brushed his shoulders and he was in a Black Sabbath shirt. Totally fitting.
There were a lot of photos of Cameron and Aidan, and every one looked storybook. No wonder it was hard for her to walk away. She’d spent most of her life with him, to the point it was surely expected of her to grow up and marry the guy.
“I need to take those down, I guess.” Cameron came up beside me where I stood looking at her wall of photos. She peered at them and frowned.
“Take your time,” I encouraged. “I’m sure it’s not easy since you guys practically grew up together.”
She nodded, and still she looked on at her past with a touch of sadness in her eye.
“No more pity parties,” Vanity announced as she stood from the bed. She gestured to Cameron and then to herself. “Especially over loser ass men.”
“I know,” Cameron said bitterly.
“Maybe we could put some music on?” I suggested to change the subject. “That always clears my head.”
“What do you wanna listen to?” Cameron went and flopped herself down on her stomach as she began thumbing through her phone.