Second Chance Boyfriend (Drew + Fable 2)
Page 4The way Jace brushes off my statement—hell, the way he agrees with it—blows me away. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Logan’s birthday. We’re doing it up right at the new restaurant that just opened a few blocks over. Have you heard of it?” Jace looks excited, he’s literally bouncing on his feet and I wonder what the hell is up.
“Vaguely.” I shrug. Like I care. The last thing I want is to be social.
But then Dr. Harris’s words ring through my head. How she wants me to reach out. And act like a real person.
“Party’s going to be there. Got a private room and everything. I haven’t been there yet, but I hear all the waitresses are gorgeous, the drinks are delicious and loaded with alcohol and Logan’s parents arranged for a private room. Rumor has it strippers might’ve been hired out for this momentous event. Logan’s turning twenty-one, so we want to get him all sorts of f**ked up.” Jace waggles his eyebrows.
“Sounds great,” I lie. It sounds like torture. But I need to go. At the very least, make a quick appearance and then jam. I can report back to my shrink what I did. She can give me a gold star for making an effort.
“You’ll go?” Jace looks shocked and I know why. I rarely do anything with the guys and especially the last few months, since I’ve been like a ghost.
“I’ll be there.” I nod, unsure how I’m going to work up the energy to make an appearance, but I’ve got to do this.
But then I realize he’s sincere. Funny how I took full responsibility for those losses when I bet every single one of these guys on my team probably did the same thing.
“Tell the guys I can’t wait to see them.” The words fall easily from my lips because they’re the truth. I need to stop wallowing in my own misery. I need to stop worrying about my past, worrying about my dad and my bitch of a stepmom and the little girl who died because I was too busy fighting with her mom and telling her to keep her goddamn hands to herself.
That’s the one regret I have, that I never fully explained to Fable what happened that day. I know she assumes I was off screwing around with Adele. I would think the same. But that was the day I told her never again. Whatever she was going to try, I wasn’t interested. It was over. That was the day I became liberated.
And also the day I became a prisoner to my own guilt.
Forever.
“See ya around, Drew.” Jace waves and turns, whistling as he walks away from me. I remain rooted to the spot, watching him leave until he’s a speck of nothing in the distance, wishing like crazy I could be that carefree. That my biggest concerns were my grades, what girl I could get my hands on next, and how excited I was for the big party coming up in a few days.
Maybe, just maybe I could lose myself in the mundane for a bit. Pretend that nothing else matters but friends and school and parties. Doc says I can’t move forward until I face the past.
Chapter Two
She’s all broken inside but no one will ever notice. – Unknown
Fable
“So.” Owen slurps on the giant thirty-two-ounce soda I bought him at the gas station, where we stopped to fill up my mom’s crap car on the way home. “Can I eat for free at this joint you’re working at?”
I shake my head. “It’s too classy. Kids aren’t really welcome.” The understatement of the year. The restaurant is definitely not kid friendly. In fact, I’m thinking it’s not really Fable friendly either but I’m willing to give it a chance. Colin claims I can make a ton of money in tips, though I’m not sure if I believe him.
My thoughts drift to Colin. He owns the restaurant…because his rich daddy gave it to him to play with. That much I gleaned out of him when he first brought me there. He’s nice. He’s attractive. He’s charming.
Beyond chatting with him like he’s my boss and I’m his employee, I’m avoiding him as much as possible. I took him up on his job offer, though it sounds almost too good to be true.
And as always, my inflow of money is the most important thing. Our mom isn’t doing anything to ensure that’s happening.
Owen puffs up his chest, his expression indignant. “Are you kidding me? I’m not a kid. I’m f**king fourteen!”
I slap his arm and he yelps. “Language,” I warn because, oh my God, he needs to watch that mouth of his. And since when did the legal adult age get bumped back four years? In his dreams.
“Seriously, Fabes, you can’t even sneak me in?” Owen shakes his head, his irritation clear. “I hear the chicks who hang out there are bangin’.”
I don’t need to hear my little brother talking about bangin’ chicks and whatever else. Bad enough I found the baggy of weed in his jeans pocket when I did laundry a few days ago. I showed it to my mom and she shrugged, then demanded I hand the bag over.
She proceeded to open it and took a deep sniff, proclaiming the weed high-quality stuff. I know she took it with her over to Larry’s house later and they probably got high as hell. I still can’t believe it. How did I become so normal and stable when my mom is such a…child?