Home > Western Waves (Compass #3)(18)

Western Waves (Compass #3)(18)
Author: Brittainy C. Cherry

“You know at a party when you leave hummus out too long? And the top layer hardens over? But if you puncture it, there’s nice soft hummus beneath it? That’s Damian. He’s hardened hummus that you just have to poke a bit to get to the gooey insides.”

“That’s the oddest comparison ever,” I told her.

“Yeah, sweetheart. It’s really odd,” Connor agreed.

“I’m sorry.” Aaliyah’s eyes watered over. “I was just thinking about the hummus I had a few days ago, that I left out, and then I woke up and couldn’t eat it because it went bad, but I still shoved my pita chip into the hardened surface of it and cried when I got to the gooey middle. And ever since then, I’ve been craving hummus.”

Connor’s eyes filled with emotions. “Don’t cry. You know I’ll cry if you cry.”

“I’m sorry, but it was so good!” Aaliyah said, wiping at her tears.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the pregnant woman’s emotions that hit her husband’s emotions just as deeply. I swore it was as if they were one heart that was placed between two souls.

“It blows my mind how in touch with your emotions you both are, and somehow Damian is your best friend.”

Connor looked in the direction of the bathroom and then back to me. He rolled up his sleeves, then clapped his hands together. “Okay, well, while he’s gone, we can give you a crash course on how to deal with Damian.”

“Oh, I like this idea! Like How To Damian 101!” Aaliyah exclaimed excitedly as if she wasn’t just having a mental breakdown over hummus. “Like number one: never back down when he growls or huffs or grimaces. He uses these forms of aggression to push people away. Stand tall and huff right back if you have to.”

“That’s a solid one. And two: don’t let him disrespect you. Make it known when he actually hurts your feelings. Sometimes he’s so blunt that he doesn’t even realize it. But if you notify him that you were hurt by his words or actions, you’ll see the flash of realization in his eyes. Then his following actions will showcase his apology. Sometimes, he’ll even say it, but he often apologizes through his actions. He’s very much a show-not-tell kind of guy.”

“Number three: he has past trauma that he won’t talk about, but he does fear abandonment. So, he keeps people at a distance,” Aaliyah whispered as she noticed Damian exit the bathroom.

“And number four!” Connor said, leaning in toward me. “Tell the fucker to fuck off sometimes. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he doesn’t deserve to be told that. But there is that one percent when he needs to be put in his place. He respects people who stand up for themselves and stand up to him.”

“Yeah, and don’t forget that he’s hummus,” Aaliyah said, tapping the side of her noggin. “Just break him down a bit, and you’ll get to the good stuff.”

 

 

8

 

 

Damian

 

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Stella and I stood outside, waiting for the valet to pull Connor’s rental car around the corner. Aaliyah and Connor both ran off to the restrooms, leaving the two of us standing beside one another.

And, of course, good ole Stella couldn’t stand in silence for too long before she struck up a conversation.

“Your friends are so nice.” Stella tilted her head toward me and narrowed her eyes. “So I’m trying to figure out why you’re such a jerk.”

And here we go again.

“Different upbringings,” I muttered.

“Yes. Maybe. Aaliyah mentioned she grew up in situations like yours, too, though and—”

“Don’t be ignorant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“If you were comparing Aaliyah and me growing up in the foster system and the idea that you think all foster individuals grew up alike, then you’re ignorant.”

“I didn’t even know Aaliyah grew up in foster care. Maybe if you actually let me finish my thought, you would’ve seen what I was getting at.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

I grumbled and didn’t push the subject.

We stood on the curbside, waiting for Aaliyah and Connor to join us. The silence was loud, but I didn’t have the nerve to speak up and offer Stella an apology for assuming what her thoughts had been.

“Do you always have this up?” she asked, staring down the street but speaking to me.

“Have what up?”

“Your shield.”

“Shield?”

“To keep people out.”

I shifted in my shoes and crossed my arms, not answering her.

Even though the answer was a solid yes.

She released a weighted sigh and turned to me. “Listen, I know you aren’t happy with this whole arrangement, and trust me, I’m not either. But if we are going to make this work over these next few months, we have to be able to communicate with one another.”

“I disagree. What we need to do is stay out of one another’s way. I don’t do the whole people thing.”

“Well, it turns out that we are complete opposites. I’m a people person.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t people with this person,” I coldly replied. “Besides, you’re not a people person, you’re a people pleaser, and that’s not the same thing.”

She laughed. “You don’t even know me, yet you’re already trying to define who I am.”

“It doesn’t take much to notice that fact about you. You bend over backward simply to get people’s approval. That’s why you care so much that I don’t like you.”

“I don’t care at all that you don’t like me,” she replied. Shifting in her shoes, she rolled her shoulders back. “Why don’t you like me, though?” she questioned, proving my exact point.

I snickered.

She frowned.

I wasn’t used to her frown. It seemed sadder than most. Maybe because she didn’t do it very often.

“Screw you, Beast.”

“With or without the lights on, Cinderstella?”

She grew flush and stuttered a bit before shifting around uncomfortably. “Listen, neither one of us wants to be here, so let’s stay out of one another’s way, okay? Six months will be over before you know it, and we can both move on with our lives. Soon enough, we’ll be nothing more than a distant memory to each other.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic!”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you always have to get the last word in?”

“No!”

“Good.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Jeez, woman! Can you stop saying anything? You talk too much.”

“You speak too little.”

I went quiet.

She kept talking.

I huffed.

She huffed back dramatically. “Huff!” she shouted.

“What the fuck was that?”

She puffed out her chest. “I huffed at your huffing.”

I considered if this woman was truly unwell, but I didn’t speak back because I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to keep the conversation going.

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