Page 14 of French 75
Sometimes, I want to hate Skylar. Sometimes, I wish I could be mad at the hell he’s put me through all these years. He must know, just like I do, that what we have isn’t normal for just friends. But that’s the thing about trauma, it fucks with those rational parts of your brain, twists your sense of right or wrong, and in Skylar’s case, messes with the meaning of love. The one word I’ve tried to define for him since we’ve met, that’s only proven to have landed me here.
As a comfort. As a savior. As a caregiver.
And nothing else.
“Sucks.”
I look up through the glare of the sun at Knox, whose eyes are on Skylar. He’s been weirdly kind these last few days. He’s been checking up on me and trying to make conversation. It’s strange, because it’s so unlike him, but it seems Elton’s changing him for the better.
Passing off as indifferent, I shrug. “Is what it is.”
“Doesn’t have to be,” he says. He rocks on his heels and chews the inside of his cheek. “So, you doing anything later tonight?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Um, working? Pretty sure you are too.”
Fuck me, his cheeks redden. “Right.”
Curiosity takes the better of me, and I sigh. “I’m not trying to be a dick, man. But what’s with the sudden interest in my life?”
He scowls, which I believe is his automatic reaction to literally everything someone says, but he drops it. As he crosses his tattooed arms over his chest, he scoffs. “Can’t be nice?”
“Maybe. Depends on what you want to get out of it.”
“I…” he trails off, looking sheepish as hell. Angrily, he growls, “Fuck you, I need friends.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“Elton has his friends, and I realized that, while I love him, I should probably have friends of my own.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he groans. “I sound stupid as hell.”
I shake my head. “No, you don’t.”
He’s skeptical as he continues. “I just think that you’re a decently cool guy. You don’t suck, and I thought we could get to know each other better.”
I think about it. I haven’t stopped to consider that Knox might not actually have friends of his own. Not that he’s blameless in that, since he can be a fucking bastard, but it looks like he wants to make a change. And I can’t lie and say I can’t low-key relate to needing someone else. At the end of the day, he’s not horrible anymore, so…
“I am working today,” I say honestly. “But maybe we can hang another night?”
He nods and—wow—actually smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”
Then he walks away and leaves it at that. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe Knox can be someone I confide in.
Maybe this weight I’ve been carrying all these years doesn’t have to be carried alone.
The thought sounds nice to me.
CHAPTER SIX
Skylar
“So, this is delicious!”
It’s actually not. What I thought was going to be a romantic dinner has turned into eating fried chicken at a popular fast-food chain. It’s not even the good kind either, super mid, but I’m trying to keep a positive attitude. Ashton was nice to pick me up, and it is our first date, so the least I can do is be grateful.
Chewing with his mouth open, Ashton digs into his food. He’s devouring the thing… Passionate! That’s what he is. Just so very,verypassionate about fried chicken. I mean, all he’s done is eat. Maybe I need to try harder to spark up a deep and meaningful conversation in the parking lot of the restaurant.
“Tell me about your family,” I say, picking at my fries. “Are you close with them?”
He snorts, little pieces of food flying out of his mouth as he does. “They’re a bunch of bastards. Don’t need them anyways.”
