Two #3
I huff a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough. Go back to your little friends, Blake, and I’m going to return to mine.”
Remaining quiet, my friends both shoot daggers at him as I gesture for them to get in the car.
Reese gives me this “are you sure” look, and I nod, sighing.
Blake fumbles with his hands, stepping closer, and I jump back as if he’s a large blazing flame blowing my way.
He holds his hands up, putting more space between us.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t . . . I promise this isn’t some game or ploy to hurt you again.
What happened yesterday was really fucked up, and I didn’t even agree to it. ”
“Yeah. I could really tell by the way you laughed and played along.”
He looks down at his feet, throat bobbing as he swallows.
“I know, and I felt like shit afterward. It’s just that .
. .” He looks around us and then meets my eyes again, bottom lip trembling.
“Hayden was right there, watching, and the guy’s quick to turn on anyone who doesn’t go along with his antics. ”
Is he saying Hayden’s been the one behind this all along?
That it was always his idea and he was nothing more than some chess piece scared to make the wrong move?
And am I really starting to buy this bullshit?
Fuck, I think I am. No way am I actually feeling sorry for this pathetic waste of space.
But if I’m being honest, I know what he means by doing what you need to in order to get by, and how hiding behind another person is sometimes easier than being yourself.
“Yeah well, we’re not in high school anymore, Blake. You don’t have to follow the cool crowd in order to feel accepted by society.”
“Yeah . . .” he says, not sounding convinced.
“Anyway, good talk. I’ll see you around.
” Looks like when I do, it might not always be the worst thing anymore.
He apologized, and though I don’t plan on being his friend or adding him on my social accounts, I guess I can work toward forgiving him.
More for myself than anyone else, because I’m fucking tired too, and holding onto all this hate for Blake Mitchell really has taken up a lot of my energy.
He grabs my arm before I can get in the car, and I whip my head in his direction. “How about coffee tomorrow? Or maybe I can pay your way for the show happening in the next town over this weekend? It’s my way of making amends.”
“I don’t know.” I glance down at his hand and then back at his shining blue eyes. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Oh, come on. What about dinner at the Chicken Shack tomorrow night? It’s on me. I won’t feel better until I at least make it up to you somehow.”
“Why now?”
Releasing my arm, he rubs at the back of his head again. “Because the cycle should be broken at some point, right? And better late than never?” His brows rise, lips lifting into a subtle smile.
I hesitate for a moment. “Fine. Dinner. I choose the restaurant and the time. You come without your friends.”
“Deal.” He sticks out his hand and I study it before shaking it. The honking behind us causes us both to jump, and I tap on the hood behind me, mouthing to my friends to give me a minute.
Blake is shoving his hands in his pockets, shivering under his thin jacket when I turn back to him. “Seven o’clock at El Maguey.”
“See you then,” he says sharply, his lips lifting higher in the corners.
“Uh?huh.” I walk away first, getting in the passenger side, and Lydia’s face is full of confusion while Reese is gawking at me.
“What the hell was that about?” They parrot each other and I pinch between my brows.
“I dunno. Maybe the start of shit finally going the right way for once.”
“What’s that mean?” Lydia taps her fingers on the wheel.
“He wants to buy me a make?up dinner.”
Reese makes a sound with his throat. “A what? You can’t seriously be thinking about going?”
I lift a shoulder, shifting in my seat. “Looks like I am. We do have to live in this town together, and I’d rather it be in peace than having to wonder whether someone will be waiting around the corner for me with a bucket of pig guts.
” It’s also better than what I planned to do if things didn’t change.
What if I didn’t have to be the bad guy while they pleaded for me to stop with fear in their eyes? What if I didn’t have to be everything I hated in them, and the dark thoughts in my mind could remain there with the hope of eventually fading away?
“Just be careful,” Lydia exclaims, shifting out of park. Reese leans back in the seat with his arms crossed, not saying a word until we’re exiting the parking lot.
“I mean, maybe he really is sorry, and if so, maybe the idea you had about taking him in the parking lot could still happen.”
We both shoot him a side glance, turning our noses up in distaste. “I liked it better when you were quiet,” Lydia snips.
And we all erupt into laughter, bursting into song when Lydia turns on one of our old playlists. We laugh in between picking fun at each other’s off-pitch sounds when we start singing together to a song, and none of us bring up Blake again for the rest of the night.