Page 40 of Thorns and Ashes
She crosses her arms, brow lifting with a wicked grin. “I think you know I would.”
Billy’s eyes widen as he deflates. “Fiiine.” He draws out the word. “Your secret’s safe with me. He never leaves the station anyway.”
I’m about to ask who it is they’re talking about when Levi walks up beside Billy. I straighten, immediately turning away from him as his gaze burns a hole in the side of my face. “Think you canhandle taking their order, Brat?” I ask, picking a piece of invisible lint from my apron.
“Sure thing, bitch. Or is it boss? Do wehavean actual boss?” Rory’s still pondering as I laugh and walk away, looking for any excuse to put distance between Levi and me.
It’s funny, all my life, people have labeled me. Ice queen. Wicked witch. Snob. Rich girl. Bitch. Words meant to cut me down, to keep me sharp-edged and untouchable so they don’t have to look any closer. I’ve learned how to wear them like armor, how to let them slide off without flinching, and how to pretend they don’t land somewhere tender anyway. But when Rory says it, it doesn’t sting. There’s no bite behind it, no intent to wound or diminish. Just familiarity. Affection, even. It’s as if she’s already rewired the word just for me, stripping away the power from all others who’ve called me it before her until its meaning is no longer theirs but mine.
That realization surprises me more than the name ever could. I’ve known her for less than a day, but this camaraderie that we have feels more real than any friendship I’ve ever had before. My stomach twists at the realization as I watch through the window of the swinging door. Rory clearly knows Billy, but how long will it take for someone to tell her all about me? I pack the biscuits away into the portioned baggies I’ve been leaving in front of Levi’s door as I mentally prepare for the disappointment of losing a friendship that’s barely started. Rory pops back through the door.
“So,” I ask casually, continuing to pack the biscuits. “How did your first solo order go?”
Her eyes narrow like she’s taking me in for the first time, and my chest tightens, anticipating the ease that we’ve had all day to disappear and be gone forever like it was never there. When she continues to stare me up and down, bringing her hand up so her finger dramatically taps on her chin, I give in.
“What are you doing?” I snap, arms folded over my chest.
“I’m looking for your horns,” she responds nonchalantly, now moving side to side like she’s searching for a different angle before stretching onto her tiptoes.
“My horns?” I ask, repeating back to her, reaching onto my head like maybe I’ve missed something too.
“Yeah, according to Billy, you’re supposedly like the devil reincarnate, and I should be very afraid,” she laughs before helping me pack the last of the bags.
I watch her for any sign or indication that things will be different now, but when I don’t see any, I’m afraid to trust it. “So, to be clear then, you’re not afraid or convinced I’m some evil person?”
She looks up to the ceiling with a laugh, but continues packaging. “Afraid? God, no. Most people pretend to be something that they’re not. You don’tpretendto be anything. You’re exactly who you are. Which I find endearing. I won’t have to worry about what you’re thinking or wonder if you’re being sincere because from what I’ve seen, you tell it how it is.”
She hands me the last doggie bag, and the corner of her mouth lifts. “People may think that you’re a little rough around the edges, obviously,” she says, her eyes shining with amusement. “But I think it’s a good thing. Wemighthave to work on your delivery a little bit, but sooner or later, people will appreciate you.”
“Appreciate me?” I ask, bewildered at the idea that anyone in this town could ever do that.
“Yeah, exactly.”
She sounds so sure of herself that something in my chest loosens and my shoulders relax, but after a second of thinking it over, the weight of my reality still pushes its way through that pipe dream.
“These people have only ever seen me one way,” I exhale, deflating slightly.
“So show them that there’s more to you,” she says, like it’s the easiest thing to do.
“You don’t know me,” I chuff, my lips pressing into a thin line.
“No, I don’t, but that’s gonna change. I like you.” She gives me a wink, teasing me about our conversation from earlier.
“You like me?” I ask, amused, grinning at this pink-haired fire cracker like she’s absolutely crazy.
“I think we just became best friends,” she says and hops her butt onto the table, swinging her tiny legs back and forth like she’s a little kid.
“Right,” I say slowly, drawing out the word like I don’t believe her, but that feeling from earlier, the one that for the first time has made me feel a little less alone, grows somewhere inside me.
“You’ll see,” she says as Ainsley walks through the door.
“What will she see?” Ainsley asks, looking between the two of us.
“Tris and I are best friends now. Wanna make our duo a trio?” Rory asks her like a child on the playground, as if it’s that easy to make friends as an adult.
“Well shoot, I’ve only been tryin’ to get her to agree to that for the last six months, and you’ve done it in six hours? Count me in.”
The two of them laugh together, looking at me like ‘see’.I’m absolutely dumbfounded. All this time, I thought Ainsley was being nice to me out of obligation since we work together. Rory reaches out for my hand, and too shocked to do anything else, I let her take it.
