I drudge down the stairs and come to a stop at the presence of my father. I’m a couple feet from the entrance of the kitchen. He's dressed perfectly in a suit; sipping his coffee while scanning the newspaper. I move further into the kitchen, grabbing a protein bar from the nearby cabinet.
"Ah, Chase!" my Dad greets me.
"Dad." It’s the best greeting I can muster.
"I've heard you've done well while we were gone."
"Yeah, well...I learned from the best."
He beams at the compliment. "You'll do well once I retire."
I stifle the laugh with a cough. "Yeah. I better get going."
"Look at you!" he says with pride as I walk out of the kitchen. I pat myself to make sure my wallet, phone, and keys are all accounted for.
The early morning air bites my skin as I stroll to my truck. I start it up and leave my driveway, heading in the direction of the Russo's home. My nerves begin to make me queasy. I force myself to take a couple of deep breaths as I turn into the driveway that meets a modest two-story home. I park in front of the door knowing she might be a few minutes because I'm a bit early. "This is for the best," I say to myself. "You know it's for the best."
I see movement out of my peripheral vision and my head shoots towards the front of the house. My heart picks up at the sight of Veronica. She has another silver coffee mug in her hands...and that makes me unconsciously smile. Even though my messages were short and dismissing, she still made me coffee. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail high on her head, exposing her long neck, and making her features stand out. Her large hazel green eyes, slim nose, and plump lips.
This is going to be harder than I thought. She opens the door and hops in. I immediately look forward, hoping she didn't see me looking at her.
"Hey," her soft feminine voice is like music to my ears.
"Hey," I say back, trying to stay neutral.
She hands me the mug, and I place it in the center console. "Thanks."
"Did my brother keep you out late?" she questions as she buckles her seat belt.
"Not really," I say, simply and start to drive.
"Oh."
I feel so bad for being short with her. We were always friends before, but I don't know if I can ever go back to being just friends. The thought alone causes me physical pain. This is becoming a mess, and it's all on me.
"My parents came home." I share.
"Really!? How was that?" she asks genuinely concerned.
I shrug, "It was okay. No welcoming home party or anything."
There is a pressure on my arm, which causes me to look away from the road. Her hand is on my bicep. She's concerned for me. I look away quickly.
"I'm sorry, Chase," she says her voice low. Her touch is intoxicating.
I clear my throat. "No need to be sorry, V. You didn't do anything."
She removes her hand and places it in her lap. Neither of us say a word. I don’t think we know quite what to say. I shouldn't say anything more, though. I'm lost inside my own mind--on autopilot until I pull up to her school.
"Okay, well...thanks," she says weakly when I don't say anything. She pulls on the handle of my truck and hops out, closing the door behind her. I watch her as she walks away with much less pep in her step since coming out of her house just ten minutes prior.
I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave.
What Ifs
With my father back, the work atmosphere has become full of tension. He's not an extremely mean guy, or even too demanding, but his presence radiates power. He started this company from the ground and, rightfully so, he is a very proud guy. It's not a massive company--it's quite small considering--but it's one of the best investment banking firms in the county; possibly the state. His clientele comes all over the Northeast and even as far as out West. He's made a name for himself. He's honest, loyal, and straight forward--all qualities that are needed in this kind of business. It doesn't hurt that he's extremely good looking and that his young son is to be the heir of the prestigious company.
The day is dragging and I can’t wait to leave, even though I have no plans for the rest of my night. I think about stopping by the garage, but I’m not sure if Veronica will be working. I conclude it'd probably be best that I don’t.
While walking out to my truck I decide to call Vance.
"Yo, man," He answers.
"What's good tonight?" I ask him.
"Come over. We're working on Wes' car."
"Over where?" Please don't say your house.
"Wes'."
"Alright, be there in a few."
I pull the phone away from my face, about to push the red symbol.
"Yo, Chase, wait!" Vance’s yell stops me from hanging up.
"Yeah?"
"Stop and grab a six-pack, will ya?"
"Will do." This time he doesn't keep me from hanging up. I jump into my truck and drive towards the nearest beer distributor. Ten minutes later I'm parked in front of Wes' garage where the door is lifted, and his car is parked inside with the hood open. I remove my shirt, leaving me in my tank and slacks. Not ideal but I don't need to ruin a shirt--Mom would have a fit. Wes and Vance both greet me with slaps on the hand, and I take a seat on an old beat-up couch off to the side.
"What you guys got going on?" I ask while I pop open a beer. Vance strolls over and pulls one out of the pack too.
"Got a race this Friday," Wes says.
"Oh, yeah? Anyone good?" I ask.
"Yeah. One of Dixon's goons. Five-hundred bucks."
I whistle, impressed at the stakes. The thought of Dixon brings on thoughts of Veronica, and if she'll be going to the track with them even though she doesn't have her car.
My phone vibrates and it causes my heart to pick up. I’m caught wondering if it's Veronica. I slip it out of my pocket and steal a glance. It's not V. It's Shannon.
Shannon: You busy right now?
I stare at her text blankly for a moment. I know exactly why she's texting me. She would be a distraction. She would take my mind off of someone I shouldn't be thinking about, but I have no interest.
Me: Yeah.
Shannon: What about later tonight?
Vance joins me on the couch, sitting on the arm with his feet on the cushion. "That Nic?" he asks. I find it slightly twisted that he's saying V's nickname, and he doesn't even know.
"Nah. Shannon."
"Nice, dude. What does she want?"
"Not sure. I didn’t ask."
"She wants the D."
How poetic. I laugh, "Probably."
"So, what about Nic?"
I sigh and lean my head back on the couch.
"Uh oh. She crazy?"
"No. I don't know if that's gonna work," I tell him.
"Ah, we're too young to settle down anyways. We gotta have our fun before the ball and chain locks on."
Wes laughs from under his hood. "You’ll never find any chick to put up with your bullshit."
"Less stress that way."
"Better start collecting your cats now," Wes suggests, and I chuckle at the thought of Vance being a ‘cat man’. I can picture him sitting in his recliner with cats perched all around him while he watches TV.