Chapter 18
The Journal of Daisy D. Stiles - Twelve and a half years ago
I’m mad at August today, and I feel really fucked up for saying that.
We were in this together, and now he’s run off and found a new life with good people.
Sawyer Hale and his grandmother, Beth, really are the best kind of people.
I’ve watched through people’s windows for years to see what real, unconditional love looks like, and those two are the perfect example. Now August gets to be a part of that while I’m still here.
Alone.
I’ll always be alone.
At least, that’s the last thing my father said to me that held any meaning. That was, what? Three? Four years ago?
I forget. I guess it doesn’t matter anyway.
August just walked in. He got a haircut. And new clothes. Nice.
He still visits me every day. It’s probably out of pity. He probably feels bad.
Whatever.
I’m still reeling about the other night with August and my brothers.
We had fun. It felt so normal to sit around a table with the three of them.
After I let him know we got home safe, I ended up texting back and forth with August late into the night until my eyes couldn’t stay open for another second.
The conversation continued the following morning.
We just kept talking. About everything, catching up on things we missed. And yet, it felt like we never skipped a beat. My paragraphs of texts were met with equally long replies, and I found myself laughing out loud at parts.
Gus is so funny. I can’t believe I let myself forget.
Gus also has an incredible memory, bringing up little facts about me I forgot he was privy to, like when he asked me if I still had never tried an olive.
I haven’t. Those little fuckers freak me out.
I woke up this morning around three a.m., like I always do, to two texts that came through after I passed out earlier in the night. I’ve been rereading them over and over again with every spare minute I have.
August
I watch Forrest Gump to fall asleep most nights.
You were right, you know. It really is the best movie.
But I think about Jenny a lot. One night I read through pages of Reddit threads about how people think she’s the villain.
Daze, I was so fucking pissed off lol. She’s my favorite and no one gets it.
And another thing, she got out, but at what cost?
Do you think she was happy in all of the places she ended up?
I think she deserved a better ending. The kid is cute though.
August
Shit, it’s late. Night, Daze. Hope you’re getting some rest.
The familiar jingle of the bell on Red’s door makes me look up from my phone. Gus waltzes in, and I feel my eyes bulge out of my head at the sight of him.
No. No, no, no, no.
There is absolutely no way. This simply can’t be true. My eyes are deceiving me, or I’m dreaming, or I don’t know but—
Yep.
My actual kryptonite come to fucking life.
I haven’t seen August in almost two days and in that extremely small window of time, he shaved his face.
He left a perfect mustache right above his insufferable, soft, almost cloud-like, extremely kissable lips.
I have half a mind to forget every dumb rule I've imposed on our little arrangement to test out those lips.
Wait, what the fuck am I saying?
“What’s that on your face?” I greet him when he reaches the table I’m occupying. Yeah, that sounds more like something I’d say. I don’t linger on the fact that he came straight to me, rather than the counter to order the coffee he’s probably here for.
“It’s the seat for your ride later, Daze.” Gus smooths the hair above his top lip with two fingers. It pisses me off that he should look goofy and instead, he just looks hot as fuck.
I scrunch up my nose, pretending like I’m not squeezing the muscles in between my legs in answer. “That’s foul, August.”
He leans into my space and the mustache in question tickles my ear. His voice drops so low that I know for certain I’m the only one who can hear him. “Oh, yeah? How much would you bet that if I wiggled my fingers into that tight cunt of yours, you’d be wet right now?”
The goosebumps that break out across my entire body do nothing to hold up my end of the argument. His deep chuckle sends a flare of heat up my neck, and I have to stop my hand from chasing it.
“I hate you,” I say through gritted teeth. I hate that he’s absolutely right.
“Save the foreplay for later, Daze. You know that shit turns me on.” He mercifully backs away, and I’m able to regain control over my senses again.
What the hell is happening to me?
“Are you working today?” My pathetic attempt to continue a conversation that only weeks—hell, days—ago I wouldn’t have found myself participating in makes my head spin. I ignore the dancing poppies in my stomach when Gus turns back around and shoots me one his crooked smiles.
“Yeah, Daze. You?”
“Not at the flower shop. But I had this idea last night for something at the riverside that I think Beth’s gonna love. So, I’ll probably be swinging by. Business might be winding down for the season, but never too late to plan for next year!”
“You want me to give you a ride? How much of whatever it is you got going on there do you have left?” he asks, gesturing to my laptop and brainstorming notebook spread out on the table. He again abandons his journey to the counter, instead choosing to slide into the seat across from me.
“Uh,” I hesitate. This is as friendly as we’ve gotten publicly probably ever. The mustache is doing something. It’s messing with the ways of the world. “You’re sure?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, darling. Did you not plan to sit on my face tonight?
We’re going out, remember? There’s no sense in driving your car over to the riverside when I’m already on my way.
I’ll bring you back in the morning. Come on, we can even make a pit stop so you can pack a sleepaway bag.
Pretend like it’s camp. You know, minus the critters.
” Gus wiggles his eyebrows, reminding me of the last time I found myself in a camp setting with him.
“We canceled tonight, remember?” I remind him.
While Penelope recovered from the stomach bug rather quickly, poor Miller is now going through it.
“No…Red and Miller canceled. And Sawyer and Margot backed out because Margot’s exhausted. Last I checked, we don’t have any ailments stopping us from having some fun.”
I can honestly say with every true bone in my body that I haven’t the slightest clue as to what’s gotten into August Burton in the past several days. It’s Gus. But not. Agreeing to this would be insanity.
And yet, I find myself going along with the plan anyway. I slam my laptop shut. “You know what, fine.”
“Reluctant agreement? That’s the spirit!” Gus pumps his fist in the air in victory. I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling through it. I’m doing that a lot more often now than I used to.
This whole thing screams dangerous. We’re wading into a familiar territory of the past, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable enough in these waters. What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…
“You’re being weird,” I tell him, avoiding my real feelings about this whole ordeal.
“You like it, Daze. Admit it.”
“Like what?” I roll my eyes as I start to gather my things into my tote bag. When I shimmy out of the booth, Gus stands and scoops the strap of my tote from the table, hiking it up over his shoulder.
“Spending time with me. And the ‘stache.”
The man has the audacity to fucking wink before taking himself and my bag to the counter. He greets Red as if this isn’t the most bizarre morning I’ve ever experienced, grabs his coffee, and slides cash across the surface.
“Since when do you two get along?” Red eyes us suspiciously. I feel as though I shouldn’t be grouped into this question, seeing as how I’m not the one acting like a crazy person before nine a.m.
“Don’t look at me,” I argue when I reach the counter. I try to retrieve my tote from Gus, but he doesn’t budge.
“Mhm,” Red mutters while looking me up and down—multiple times.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” I purse my lips for good measure.
“Don’t tempt me, I thought about it. Since no one in this entire town would believe me if I told them without photographic evidence that Daisy Stiles and August Burton were canoodling in my café.”
“Canoodling?” I scoff. “You’re dramatic. He’s just…” I try to yank my bag free again with no luck. “Jesus Christ, Gus. Give me my shit.”
“No.” Gus readjusts the strap on his shoulder and marches towards the door.
Red shrugs. “Ah, well. That lasted about as long as everyone would expect. Back to business as usual. You kids have a good day! See ya later!” She blows us a kiss and saunters off to the back.
“Bag, please, Gus.” I hold out my hand.
“Would you just march your ass out the door so we can get a move on?” He gestures with the hand holding his coffee cup to the front door.
“Your idea of chivalry is distorted,” I mumble on my way out.
Gus continues his weird gentlemanly act by opening my driver’s door for me. “I’ll follow you to your house,” he says once I’m in my seat, finally passing me my tote. He shuts the door without waiting for my reply.
Mercifully, there are no cars in the driveway when Gus and I pull up to my house.
I assume he’ll wait in his truck for me while I run inside to gather a fucking sleepaway bag.
I almost laugh to myself when I hear a second door slamming closed.
I turn to discover I clearly assumed wrong because Gus is marching up the walkway to the front of the house.
“I don’t need a bodyguard, August. No one’s home,” I tell him.
“Maybe I’m trying to get a quickie in. You know, start the day properly. You said something like that, right?” He nudges me playfully with his arm.
This time I let myself giggle. God, since when is it fun to joke around with August?
Yeah, Daisy. Pretend like it wasn’t always like this after he let you in.
“I’m not showing up to face Beth freshly fucked. I can barely make eye contact with her as it is.”
“You know, I think she’s choosing to be chill about this,” Gus tries to assure me.
“Ha!” I bark. “She’s saving it. She’s waiting for the perfect moment to rip us to shreds,” I say as I unlock the door and make my way upstairs, Gus still on my tail.
“There are no pictures of you,” Gus observes as we walk along the hall to my bedroom.
He’s definitely referring to the school pictures of Hunter and Chase lined up on the wall. And while he’s right—there isn’t a single one of me—I’m used to it. I don’t notice it anymore.
“Yeah,” I say offhandedly, trying to breeze past the fact that I have two parents who actively choose to pretend I don’t exist.
“Fuck them,” he mumbles under his breath.
Gus doesn’t offer more conversation as I pack my essentials. He grabs my duffel bag and lobs it over his shoulder before I can get it myself. He marches down the stairs and out the door without another word.
When we pull up to the riverside, all ideas of no one spotting us together wither away into nothing when we both see Melanie LeClair rocking on the porch of the main building’s cabin.
“Howdy hey, you two cuties!” Mel calls, waving one arm dramatically, as we pull up to a stop.
A smile breaks out across my face. Margot’s mom is the best addition to Merrymount, and I feel guilty I haven’t seen enough of her since she moved to town.
She’s the mom everyone wishes they had. At least, I know I wish she was my mom.
I forget any reason I would be hiding and shoot out of Gus’s truck once we’re parked.
“Mel!” I call.
After I run up the steps, Melanie stands and pulls me into her arms for a tight embrace.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, my girl!”
I breathe in the faint smell of chlorine that apparently still hasn’t left her clothes since moving and leaving her career at the community pool back in the town she and Margot used to live in.
“You too! How’s the apartment? You hanging around today?”
Mel releases me and ushers me to sit in the rocking chair next to the one she was occupying.
“The apartment is perfect. It’s the right amount of space in the best part of town.” She winks. “I’m still unemployed, which feels odd, I have to admit. So, I’m pestering Beth today instead of my moody daughter.”
That causes me to laugh. “Can’t say I wouldn’t be moody too if I was baking two babies at once.”
Melanie pats my thigh and chuckles. “God knew I couldn’t handle it. Margot, though? Small but mighty she is.”
Gus’s footsteps cause wooden steps to creak.
“Morning, Mel,” he greets her.
“Hello, Gus. Or should I say mountain man? The women are going to have a field day with the new look.” Melanie wiggles her eyebrows and barks out a laugh she for sure was trying to hold in.
I reach my hand out to grab onto Melanie’s arm.
“Mel, you read the comments?” I say shrilly.
“Of course I do!” she confirms. “Scrolling through those is better than anything I could watch on TV.”
August’s cheeks turn a dark pink as he pieces together what we’re referring to. “I don’t think I like being objectified.”
“Oh, get over it,” I say.
Gus narrows his eyes at me.
“You know, it’s funny seeing you two together,” Melanie observes.
“We’re not together,” Gus and I both practically shout simultaneously.
Melanie stands and brushes off seemingly nothing from the front of her jeans. “Ah, yes. And Sawyer and Margot were just friends. But…Beth told me no meddling.”
“Beth?” Gus and I, once again, yell at the same time.
Melanie pauses with her hand on the door.
She looks at us with a soft, all-knowing, motherly type of smile.
“I will say, I find it interesting that you think you’re still putting on a show.
And maybe you are. But I think it’s more for your own benefit, protecting your own hearts, than anything else.
I’m walking away after one teensy bit of advice: don’t forget who you really are, the Daisy and August behind the curtain, off stage.
Have a good day, you two. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around. ”
Once the door closes and Melanie is out of sight, Gus lets out a nervous laugh. I mimic it.
“That was odd, right? Like, I love Mel. But she’s laying the wise owl speeches on thick, don’t you think?” I ask.
Gus hesitates.
“Yeah,” he finally breathes. But for some reason, I don’t know if he’s actually agreeing with me.