It doesn’t matter that he brought me tremendous love and happiness all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that I made a promise, and I had meant it back then. As much joy as he enriched my life with he also caused the deepest, darkest pain.
In spades, Self-Preservation adds. She isn’t wrong.
Chapter 8
Raegan
16 years old…
“Ahem.” I snap my attention to the new guy. He’s the new stocker here and new to town as well. “Daydreamin’?” he says with a raspy voice.
“Ah, no,” I mumble. “Just reading,” I pull the book from beneath my register waving it at him. I have to hide my book so Derek the manager doesn’t see me reading instead of straightening up my lane, putting candy and drinks back in their appropriate place or wiping the conveyor belt down.
“Cool,” he nods. “You’re Raegan,” he announces with a downward tip of his chin and a boyish smile I imagine the girls fawn over. I tap my index finger against my nametag and turn my smile up a little. Is he flirting with me? Janice told me he’s twenty years old. Surely he’s not interested in a high school girl.
“Yeah. Josh,” I say noting his nametag as I extend my hand. Before I can shake his hand, Sylas shoves his hand out and grabs Josh’s. “And I’m Sylas Broussard.”
“Not you again,” I mumble staring Sy down like my eyes are weapons and could somehow stab him right in his chocolaty eyeballs.
Josh furrows his brows but nods looking from Sy to me then back again. “I’m Rae’s boyfriend,” Sylas lies.
“No he isn’t,” I shake my head rolling my eyes.
“Okay. Well it was nice to meet you Raegan.” Josh backs away obviously scared off by jerk-face. Sy peruses the candy section of my checkout lane in silence.
“You’re such an ass.”
“Hello to you too, Rae.” Sylas grins slapping a pack of gum down on the conveyor belt. I scan his pack of gum and drop it in a plastic bag.
“That it?” I ask in a detached voice while pretending to read my book.
“No. I’ll have a date with you too,” he announces, a twinkle in his eyes. I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose then aggressively peck my index finger against the Total button on the cash register’s keyboard.
“Right. That will be a buck and seven cents for the gum and a big fat no to the date.”
“You say that now but we both know what you really want to say is yes,” he chuckles, amused with himself.
“Sy, please, it’s almost my break time,” I say tiredly flipping the switch to darken the lane marker of my checkout line.
“Okay then. I’ll see you later Rae,” he says digging into the pocket of his basketball shorts. He hands me exact change and our iPod since it’s my turn. He heads for the exit. I press the button on the iPod to see what he’s been listening to. “Just What I Needed” by The Cars.
Very Sylas Broussard of him.
He has always used music to communicate with me. Since we discovered it seven years ago, we’ve both developed a keen appreciation for music from the sixties and seventies and eighties mostly because we just barely started making our own money and had only the music that was loaded on it when we found it. I guess now we should load some new music on the dumb thing. Sy said he was working on that. Of course he’s claimed to be working on that for years now. I’ve lost hope and have resigned myself to listening to The Beatles, The Stones, The Who, Elton John, Fleetwood Mac, The Bee Gees, and all their buddies.
I glance up at Sy’s retreating back feeling only a bit guilty that I keep shooting him down. But seriously, what’s it going to take for him to get it through his head that I don’t see him like that. I mean, yeah he filled out a lot last summer and football season did amazing things to his body, he’s smart even though he pretends he isn’t, he’s funny and has a zillion friends, he’s got these awesome full lips and that cologne he wears smells like heaven. And when I heard Brooklyn talking in the computer lab about him like they’re a thing I got super jealous, which was annoying and weird for me.
I roll my eyes at the direction my thoughts were headed. I can’t think about Sylas that way. Brooklyn or whoever is welcome to date him. It’s of no concern to me. He’s like a… brother to me. Isn’t he? Yes. He’s definitely on the sidelines when it comes to my dating pool. Derek calls to me from the customer service counter and taps his finger on his watch telling me to take my lunch break. I nod in response and tug my lunch box from my backpack beneath my cash register and head outside, tucking ear buds in as I go. The automatic doors slide open and a gust of humid Louisiana air slams into me.
It’s spring though, so the heat isn’t so unbearable yet but part of me is more than ready for summer break. I’ve been putting up with Sy’s unending torment for months. Following his stunt in Mrs. Burke’s class at the beginning of this school year he has really focused all his efforts on picking on me for a date that I am sure he doesn’t actually want, he just enjoys picking at me.
I walk along the front of the store to the picnic tables between Herbert’s Grocery and the park directly adjacent to the store parking lot. The closer I get the steady beat of a basketball bouncing against the outdoor court gets louder. Him. I run the pad of my thumb over the iPod, scrolling through the music, seeking the perfect song. I park myself at a picnic table and watch him playing ball. Being the pest he is, he can’t leave me in peace. Ever. The pathetic part is my resolve is beginning to slip. I’ve gotten so used to him invading my life and space that when he’s nowhere around I find myself looking for him.
I crack open the lid of my soda and listen to “Take It Easy” by the Eagles. I peel back the plastic wrapper of a string cheese just as Sy helps himself to the spot beside me at the picnic table and my left ear bud. He sits beside me but faces the opposite direction. To my complete shock he just plops down tiredly, his brow creased, his big mouth shut, listening to the end of “Take It Easy”. For once. I narrow my eyes at him wondering what trickery he’s planning. When “Dancing Queen” begins he grabs the iPod from my lap and changes the song.
“Evil Woman”, Electric Light Orchestra.
I snort and laugh loudly, the sound echoing off the metal awning that covers the picnic area. I glance over to Sy as I clutch my belly and see the edge of his lips twitching. I sigh and take the iPod back, scrolling through songs. I select the perfect one and watch his face as the first few notes of “You’re So Vain” by Carly Simon comes filtering through. Sy’s torso shakes with silent laughter and I end up giggling with pride at my cleverness. Oddly, my cheeks are burning red and I don’t think it’s from frustration and embarrassment.
Uh oh. He’s working you over, Rae. Snap out of it.
His face falls and he just stares out at nothing and I do the same, staring at the vacant basketball court. Unsure of how to handle his silence I keep nibbling on my cheese stick and sipping soda. I only get half an hour lunch break and normally I chow down as quickly as I can so I can read or study but right now I kind of enjoy the silence between us. It’s a pleasant change of pace. Anything besides him nagging or humiliating me is just fine by me.