Hazed
Page 5
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“That was killer,” Shea yawns after our long shift. I know the menu like the back of my hand now. Tonight was my first night to be on my own, and I nailed it. Even our manager was impressed with how quickly I picked up on the routine. Randy locks the bar as we walk to our cars together. The night air is thick with humidity. The lone light dims, suggesting we might be left in the dark. Hayze catches my wrist, stopping me. Shea smiles knowingly and waves goodnight to us.
His amber eyes dance around my face. “Wanna grab something to eat?”
I check the time on my phone, it’s past two in the morning, but I don’t have class tomorrow.
“Sure,” I say reluctantly.
He steps ahead of me, opening the car door. “C’mon,” he says.
“I can take my car.” I point to my car; my eyes search his smirking face.
“Nope, get in. I’ll bring you back.”
He motions for me to join him. I roll my eyes and slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and jogs over to his side. The car roars to life, the air blasts, Led Zeppelin pours through the speaker. He adjusts the knobs before turning to me.
“What’s open this late?” I ask as he leaves the parking lot.
I clasp the seatbelt and shift my body away from him, realizing I’m cramped in a small space with him.
“You’ll see.” The car turns into the lot next to the bar, he points to the sign. The car turns right and a bright purple sign comes into sight.
I laugh and cut my eyes at him. “Taco Bell?”
“It’s amazing at 2 a.m.”
“Sober?”
I giggle, remembering stories of my friends staggering in here after a long night. After years of being sheltered I no longer have to live vicariously through them.
He looks past me, thinking. “You may have a point.”
Once inside, Hayze orders an insane amount of food. The waitress, taps on her screen, looking flushed. He walks ahead of me, choosing a booth in a corner. My face twists into disgust. I grab a scratchy, brown napkin and wipe the table off. I ignore the crumbs that scatter the floor.
Hayze watches me and laughs. “How’s rooming with Lea?”
“I clean her side, too,” I say. I look around the booth and floor, satisfied with my area I look at him.
“What made you chose ETU?”
“I wanted out of my house, but at the same time I wanted to be near my mom,” I explain, he nods his head like he understands me.
He glances through the window, thinking. “You lived with your dad?”
I shake my head. “No, I lived with both. My mom and I get along. My dad’s a preacher. To say he was strict would be the understatement of the year.”
“Daddy issues, nice, my plan will work,” he chuckles. I gasp, ball up a napkin and toss it at him; he swats it away.
“Asshole!” I say and laugh.
“Now you’re cussing? What would your dad have to say about that? Sorry, I’ll stop,” he says after he sees my expression. He holds his hands up, feigning innocence.
“So what’s your major?” He changes the subject.
“Undecided. I know. Typical freshman answer,” I say, between bites, and he smiles.
“No, business it the typical freshman answer.”
“What about you?” I ask.
He snaps his head to the side, eyebrows arched. I follow his gaze to the window, a couple stands outside in a heated argument. The guy sees us, grabs his girlfriend’s arm and shoves her in the car.
I shake my head, tossing my food down. “I’ll never understand that…”
“What?” He asks. I watch the car pull from the lot. Hayze balls up his trash, tossing it on the tray in front of us.
“Being in a controlling relationship,” I say, watching the taillights in disgust.
His brows pull together. “We don’t know what that was about. They were probably drunk and he didn’t want her to get arrested. Cops are everywhere in this town,” he says, jerking his thumb to the vacant parking space.
“You’re right.”
His amber eyes hold mine, his smile is sincere. I look down, bringing the straw to my lips. The truth, is I know more about control than I’d like to admit. Control ran my life, my mom’s life; that’s the difference between my mom and me, the girl from the parking lot and me—I packed the necessities and left it behind. I’ll never be in their shoes.
Yawning, I check my phone. “It’s past three.”
He takes the cue, standing, he offers me his hand. When we reach the car I slide into the passenger side. I cock my eyebrow, studying him.
“You didn’t answer any of my questions,” I say.
“I know,” he says, matter of fact. He grins, with boyish charm. He props his hand behind my seat, turning as he backs out.
“Huh uh, you aren’t getting off that easy.”
He laughs, “What do you wanna know?”
“The basics, where are you from? Any brothers or sisters?” I shrug, looking out at the vacant street. “Just the things you asked me. It’s only fair.”
“I’m from here, and I’m not an only child.” He doesn’t look at me, but I can tell he’s amused.
“You have the rare talent of answering a question without actually answering the question. I haven’t seen someone do that since my dad.”
He smirks, “Comparing me to a preacher? Can’t say that’s ever happened.”
“You won’t forget that, will you?” I ask.
Chuckling, he shakes his head no, leaving me wondering if I shouln’t have told him about my family.
“What about your parents?” I ask.
“I lived with my mom. I don’t see either much.”
“Why? I thought you said you’re from here. Did they move or something?”
He shrugs. “No, I’m just busy. My mom understands.”
“And your dad?”
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. He laughs once without humor. “I’m sure he’d like to see me more.”
The rest of the drive is silent. He slings the car in next to mine. I turn to thank him and he has the same idea, his face is inches from mine. I jerk away, push the door open, and climb out.
“I had a good time, thanks for dinner.”
“Taylor, wait!” I turn, finding him standing, his arms propped on the top of the car. “I’m not going to kiss you. Unless, of course, you ask me to,” he smirks.
“Trust me, I won’t.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Goodnight Taylor.”