by J. Daniels
She found that out on her own, when instead of walking to her car come closing time, I got on my bike and took off, not even giving her so much as a glance. And I knew she was watching me, expecting at least an explanation.
I couldn’t give her that. This was my way out, and fucking her over was the only way she’d leave me alone.
All of this was my doing. I wanted to break her. I did it so she’d pull away.
So if someone could please explain to me why the fuck it pissed me off every time she did pull away, that would be great. ’Cause I sure as hell didn’t get it.
“Dude, the soup is boiling.”
J.R.’s warning jarred my focus. Cursing, I quickly turned down the heat and stirred the thick broth, grateful it hadn’t burned.
Fucking women. Nate couldn’t hire a bunch of men to wait tables? What the fuck was wrong with him?
“I’m gonna get started on the marinara,” J.R. said, grabbing a pot off the shelf above me.
I jerked my chin.
“You’re such a go-getter, J.R. Good for you,” he mumbled, laughing at himself.
I turned my head and glared. He took a step back, his one hand raised defensively, and moved his pot to the other set of burners on the other side of the grill.
Christ, I was going to be sharing a kitchen with this idiot. My days were going to feel a helluva lot longer now. I just knew it.
“I loved your story yesterday, Shay,” Kali said.
“Really? Thanks! I always wonder if people think they’re stupid or not. I go a little nuts on there.”
Grabbing the tray of chicken I’d already prepped and seasoned, I moved to the worktop in front of the window and started dumping extra seasoning on the breasts, which I had no fucking reason for doing, except that doing it put me closer to that window, which put me closer to her.
I glanced up, saw Shayla standing on the other side of the bar where Kali stood making drinks, got those eyes I couldn’t get enough of for a full fucking second, and then watched her turn away, looking uneasy.
Goddamn it. She shouldn’t be turning away and looking uneasy.
What the fuck? Yes, she should.
“No, it was great! I’m so excited for you,” Kali said, filling another cup of with water after passing one to Shayla. “Your stories are always so cute and funny. Mine suck.”
“They do not. You’re crazy.” Shayla took a sip of her drink, met my eyes again because I sure as fuck wasn’t paying attention to chicken that didn’t need any more seasoning, and was only watching her, then took those eyes away from me as she moved away. “I’m gonna go wipe down the tables,” she called out.
“I’ll help. Hold on.” Kali turned toward the window, sipping her water.
“What story is she talking about? Is she a writer or something?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
It pissed me off I was even having to ask this question. I should’ve known this. She had told me everything else about her life. Why the fuck wouldn’t she tell me this?
Kali looked up at me and slowly lowered her glass. Her eyes were round. “Are you talking to me?” she whispered, staring at me like I’d just appeared in front of her out of thin air.
Jesus Christ. “Is anyone else standing there where I’m lookin’?” I growled. “What do you think?”
“Well…it’s just, you never talk to me,” she said, leaning closer. “Like ever. Are you feeling okay? Is something happening? Are we under attack right now?”
“Are you gonna answer my fuckin’ question or not?”
“Sorry. This is just weird.” She quickly leaned back. “It’s, uh, Snapchat. Her Snapchat story. That’s what we were talking about.”
“What the fuck is Snapchat?”
“Dude.” J.R. came to stand beside me, looking amused. “Even my grandmother knows what Snapchat is. Have you been living under a rock or something?” He gestured at the tray. “Pretty sure that chicken has enough seasoning now.”
Motherfucker. “Did I fuckin’ ask what you thought about the chicken?” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Go work on your fuckin’ marinara.”
J.R. chuckled and kept standing there.
Great.
“It’s an app,” Kali said hurriedly. “You know, the little icons on your phone. You can download them. It’s another social media thing. Like Instagram, but it started the filter craze. Now everyone is biting off Snapchat. Even Facebook. Wait…um, you know what social media is, right? Do you have an iPhone? Do you even know what that is?”
I glared at her.
She pointed at me. “I’m going to take that as a yes. Anyway, Shay adds snaps to her story and anyone who follows her can watch them. She snaps all the time.”
Snaps? What the fuck is she talking about?
“If you have your phone, I can show you,” she offered, smiling kindly at me.
I hesitated for the briefest second, not knowing what the fuck I was doing asking about this or why I even cared, but then I quit wanting to hesitate, cursed and wiped my hands off to dig the phone out of my back pocket.
There was just some shit not worth fighting against.
“I guess I’m wiping off tables alone!” Shayla yelled out from the front of the restaurant.
“Shoot. Sorry.” Kali grabbed a rag from underneath the counter, then rolled up on her toes to get closer, holding on to the lip of the window for balance. “Her user name is HairbyShay. One word,” she whispered before hurrying off.
I looked down at the phone, not knowing what the fuck to do, then feeling eyes on me, turned my head and saw Annoying As Fuck grinning like an idiot while he motioned for me to hand it over.
“I got you,” he said. “Watch the master work.”
“Whatever.” I gave up my phone and looked out into the restaurant, watching Shayla smile at something Kali was saying.
“Dude, your shit isn’t password protected? Are you insane?”
“Who the fuck is gettin’ into that phone besides me?” I bit out. “Unless I give permission, nobody’s touchin’ my shit. What the fuck do I need a password for?”
J.R. thought for a second, then nodded his head. “Good point. You’re scary. Okay. Quick run-down.” He held the phone out and showed me what he was doing. “Here’s the app. You need a user name to get started. Once you lock one in, and don’t try taking badassmotherfuckincook ’cause that’s mine, you go up here to Add Friends by Username, and voilà. Enter that shit.”
I took my phone from him and jerked my chin, moved fast out of the kitchen, and kicked the back door open, yelling, “I’m stepping out for a smoke!”
“Ah! And by that, you mean—”
The back door shut behind me, cutting off bullshit I didn’t need pointed out to me right now.
I knew what the fuck I was doing. I was taking a smoke. And I was looking at snap chap stories or whatever the fuck they were called.
Leaning back against the building, I lit up, filled my lungs with smoke, and then clicked on the app, typing in the first username that came to mind so I could hurry this shit up.
Username.
Yeah. That would do just fine.
Remembering J.R.’s instructions, I swiped up and clicked on Add Friends by Username, typed in HairbyShay, found her, fuck yeah, and hit add. Then I just stared at the fucking thing. I didn’t know what to do. He didn’t tell me.
Shit. Why didn’t he tell me what to do next? What the fuck? I seriously hate that kid.
There was a square thing in the bottom left corner. I clicked that, then got out of it because that didn’t do a damn thing. I tried the three dots in the right corner, and there, right the fuck there, there she was.
I smoked and watched her sweet, heart-shaped face fill my screen.
She had flowers on her head and she was showing off her place and looking right at me, like she was talking to me, just like she used to. Then the video ended, and I almost smashed my phone, wanting it back and not knowing how to get it, but another one began.
She had stupid shit on her face in one video, making her look like a goddamn cat, and her voice sounded weird, but who gave a fuck? She was talking, and she was smiling. And then it was her, nothing on her face and no change to her voice, just her, so fucking sweet and cute.
Those big brown eyes staring right at me. She waved and blew me a kiss.
I choked on smoke and felt my dick jerk against my zipper. Fuck.
Coughing, I flicked ash onto the pavement and pressed my knuckles to the front of my jeans. Then I took another inhale and leaned back, eyes pinching shut as I rested my head on the building and blew smoke out above me. I needed to calm down.
Goddamn it. What the fuck was I even doing with this shit?
When I looked at the screen again, it was over, and she was gone. She wasn’t talking to me anymore, and I thought good, because I knew I didn’t deserve to be watching her the way I was doing and thinking this was for me and nobody else.
Then my thumb slid on the screen, pushing past advertisements, and there she was again.
I clicked on HairbyShay, not knowing what it would do and wondering why she settled on that name instead of Shayla, but her videos started up, and I stopped wondering.
Fuck it. Fuck it all.
I took another hit and watched her videos again, pretending they were only for me.
Chapter Three
SHAYLA
My brothers went to school in Hyde, the county just outside of Dogwood Beach, so the drive wasn’t bad. From my apartment, it was thirty minutes away, and only a forty-five-minute drive from Whitecaps.
I grew up in Hyde, for the most part. My parents moved there when I was in fourth grade after Dad got a job transfer, taking us out of the small Ohio town we’d been living in.
At the time, I hadn’t wanted to move. I didn’t want to leave my friends or my grandparents, and everything else that was familiar to me. But then I’d found out how close we’d be living to the beach and quickly changed my tune.
I’d never seen the ocean before.
And the second I saw it, I’d fallen in love. That very first feel of sand beneath my feet and the water on my toes, the smell of the air, the sun, and how different it felt and looked, reflecting off the water. We lived close to paradise, but I couldn’t wait to live closer, and as soon as I turned eighteen, I packed up my things and moved to Dogwood.
I loved it here for so many reasons, but I liked visiting home too. I was grateful to be close enough to do that anytime I wanted.
Since the buses were filling the pickup circle in front of Hyde County Middle, I pulled up along the side so I could still see the front entrance where the kids were walking out, and threw the gear into park.
I still had fifteen minutes to kill, so I tugged my phone out of my bag and pulled up Snapchat.
I had a few more notifications from followers, people congratulating me or requesting information for an appointment. That made me crazy happy. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous about this whole thing, so knowing people were interested gave me a rush of relief.
I took ten of the fifteen minutes to respond to everyone, even the followers just congratulating me, and then switched to video mode, selecting the filter that gave me killer lashes and a halo of gold leaves.
“You guys, seriously, thank you so much for all the sweet messages! I’m so grateful to have followers like you. You guys are the best!”
I added the snap and took a quick photo with the life filter, blowing a kiss at the camera. After sending that one through, I typed my hashtag and DM me for info! on a black screen, and added that to my story just as someone knocked on my back window.
Dominic was standing by the car.
I unlocked the doors and put my phone away as he climbed in behind the passenger’s seat. His book bag hit the floor with a thump.
I turned halfway. “What up? How was school?”
“Fine,” he grumbled. He pushed his hood down and rubbed at his short, dark hair while fishing the phone out of his jacket pocket, then he slumped back against the seat and started typing.
“Just fine?” I asked. “Anything cool happen today?”
“No.”
“Did you have any tests or anything?”
“Can we just go?” he snapped, gaze still fixated on his screen. “Why are we still sitting here?”
I narrowed my eyes, but I didn’t get on him about giving me an attitude. For two reasons.
One, I was used to it, seeing as he was thirteen now and basically hated everyone who wasn’t one of his friends from school. So it wasn’t personal.
And two, I knew he was having a hard time with Dad’s diagnosis, and I figured Dom had a right to be angry at the world, if that was part of his process of coming to terms with it.
The situation sucked. We were all having difficulty dealing.
I could put up with a little attitude.
The drive to Hyde County Elementary was made in silence.
Dominic stayed glued to his phone, and I kept the radio off, just in case he wanted to initiate conversation. When he didn’t, again, I didn’t take it personally. Still, I wanted him to know he could talk to me, if he wanted, so I made sure to look back at him and smile every chance I got, those times happening when I was forced to stop at a light.
Dominic thought me smiling at him was weird, I could tell, given the looks he’d given me in return. Maybe I was overdoing it.
After parking at the curb in the designated parent pickup lane at Hyde County Elementary, I waited on the sidewalk for Eli, giving Dom the space I figured he wanted.
When my eight-year-old brother walked out with a crowd of kids surrounding him, I smiled and waved.
He didn’t wave back, but he did smile, big and bright, before breaking into a run and pushing past the other kids. When he reached me, his head hit my chest, his arms wrapped tight around my middle, and he gave me a squeeze.
“Hey, E,” I said against the top his head. “Did you have a good day?”
He pulled away and nodded.
“Getting straight A’s?”
He shrugged.
“Girlfriends? How many? I see a couple cute ones over there…”
Red-faced, he quickly looked left and then right. “S-Shay.”
I smiled and ruffled his dark hair, which he always kept longer so it reached past his ears and fell a little in his eyes, something I always thought he did to hide when his voice drew him attention.
“Come on. Let’s get going,” I said, ushering him around the car and opening the back door for him.
I tossed his book bag on the passenger seat and climbed in the driver’s side.
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” I announced, pulling away from the school. “We’re going to swing by the house and get everything you guys need for the week, and then we’ll—”
“Why are we grabbing our stuff?” Dominic asked curtly. “Why aren’t we staying there?”
I glanced in the rearview mirror, expecting to see the top of Dom’s head since I was sure he was messing with his phone still, but he wasn’t messing with his phone. He was glaring at me.
I sighed. “Because I’m working out of my apartment, and I need to be there as much as I can right now,” I explained. “People might stop over to get a haircut or something. It’ll just be easier to stay at my place instead of going back and forth.”
“I thought you were a waitress,” he returned.
“I’m a hair stylist, who just so happens to also wait tables, ’cause I’m badass like that.”
Eli chuckled. I met his eyes in the mirror and winked.
“Whatever,” Dominic grumbled. “I don’t want to stay at your stupid apartment.”
“Think of it as an adventure, Dominic. Like a mini vacation.”
“A shitty vacation,” he mumbled.
“Hey,” I snapped. “My apartment isn’t shitty, or stupid.
And don’t say shitty.”
“You’re saying it.”
“I’m ten years older than you. I’m allowed to say it.” Jeez, I get having a little attitude, but what is his problem? I turned us onto the highway, picking up speed so I could merge. “It’ll be fun. You guys can even go to work with me at Whitecaps and hang out.”
“Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun,” Dominic mocked.
My hands wrapped tighter around the wheel. Why do people even have teenagers? What’s the appeal? I’m not seeing it.
“Well, I’m excited to be spending time with you guys,” I said, swallowing my annoyance and sticking with the whole kill them with kindness routine. I’d wear Dominic down eventually with it. “You’re excited, right, Eli?”
He nodded fast in the mirror. I seriously loved that kid.
Shifting my eyes, I watched Dominic scowl and shake his head before putting his attention back on his phone.
It was nearly five o’clock by the time we got all their stuff and made it back to my apartment.
As I crossed the room, I slipped off my coat and draped it on the back of a kitchen chair. “You guys are staying in the bigger bedroom, so if you want, go ahead and put your stuff in there. I’m going to figure out what we’re having for dinner.”
“We’re sharing a room?”
I lifted my head and met Dominic’s eyes. “Yes. What’s wrong with that? It’s a full-size bed.”
“I’m thirteen,” he said. “I should have my own space.”
Exasperated, I held up both my hands and told him, “Well, I’m twenty-three, Dom, and when I was your age, I thought I’d be married to Justin Timberlake by now. Obviously, he’s moved on, and I’m having to deal with that. Just like you’re going to have to deal with sharing a room with Eli, unless you would like to sleep on the futon in my salon.”
“What’s a futon?” he asked, brow tight and already disapproving.
