Page 13 of Left In The Dark

The music’s still going, and the people around us go back to enjoying the show as the security guard looks us both up and down. “As long as you two are sure. I don’t have to worry about any bad dance moves leaving anyone with a black eye, do I?”

“No.” I quickly shake my head, letting out an awkward laugh. “I’ll be more careful and aware of my surroundings this time.”

“Good,” the man in uniform says, hand on his belt, as he moves to stand only a few feet away.

“How about we get out of here?” Reese says loudly in my ear.

“We can stay if you two really want to.”

Reese glances back at Lydia, and the next thing I know they’re both dragging me toward the exit. I shoot them a questioning glance. “You guys sure you want to go? You were both really excited about coming out.”

“Yeah, we were, but we care a lot more about you than some band. They’ll come again.” Lydia smiles, swinging the door open.

“Yeah.” Reese tosses an arm around me, leading me out the door. “We can go shoot some pool or go hit up the bowling alley. The one twenty minutes from here is open until two a.m.”

“Sure. I haven’t been bowling in forever, though, so don’t be surprised if I throw the bowling ball into the wrong lane.”

My friends laugh, walking along with me on the sidewalk. As we’re approaching the car, we all freeze when Blake jogs our way, waving. My friends have uneasy looks on their faces, and Lydia jumps in front of him when he tries to reach where I am.

“I think you should go back inside,” she barks.

“Look.” He runs a hand through the back of his platinum‑blond hair as he bites on his lower lip. No way is this man nervous. Blake and that term don’t even fit together. He’s usually confident and sure of himself, but now his eyes are . . . full of remorse? “I’m sorry, okay. I guess I still worry too much about what people like Hayden think of me. It’s dumb, I know, but it’s pretty much the only way I’ve known how to survive in this town, you know?”

“As if you know anything about having to survive.”

He lets out a short puff of air. “Yeah . . . you’d think that, but life hasn’t always been easy for me either, and I guess I saw what I did to you as pushing it onto someone else to release my frustration. Not that it’s right, but it’s how it’s always been in my house. Dad took his anger out on my mom, and Mom took it out on me. Then you were always just there and . . . fuck, I’m not really helping myself here.”

“You’re right. You’re not.” I agree with his last statement.

“For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

As much as I want to believe him so I can move on with my life, there’s a pesky nudge inside my gut and it sets off alarm bells. I did say I’d give him another chance, didn’t I? “Why did you really follow me here?”

“I told you,” he stammers. “To make some fucking amends or a truce. I left town for a bit too, and it did make me realize how exhausting it can be, being here, trying to always be someone others expect me to be. Even if I didn’t want to be that way or hated myself for it later.” His eyes lock onto mine, and if these are all lies, nothing about them is giving him away.

“So, I’m supposed to do what?” My brows bunch together. “Feel sorry for you? Oh, the poor little rich boy. He has so much pressure from being loved by everyone and purposely choosing to treat people like shit.”

“I don’t . . . no. I’m only trying to explain my side of things, but it’s not coming out as well as it did in my head. And people forget, I’m not the one who’s rich. My parents are. I have to work like the rest of the world, and let’s just say Daddy hasn’t been too happy about my new modeling career.”

I huff a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ve heard enough. Go back to your little friends, Blake, and I’m going to return to mine.”

Remaining quiet, my friends both shoot daggers at him as I gesture for them to get in the car. Reese gives me this “are you sure” look, and I nod, sighing. Blake fumbles with his hands, stepping closer, and I jump back as if he’s a large blazing flame blowing my way. He holds his hands up, putting more space between us. “I’m sorry, I didn’t . . . I promise this isn’t some game or ploy to hurt you again. What happened yesterday was really fucked up, and I didn’t even agree to it.”

“Yeah. I could really tell by the way you laughed and played along.”

He looks down at his feet, throat bobbing as he swallows. “I know, and I felt like shit afterward. It’s just that . . .” He looks around us and then meets my eyes again, bottom lip trembling. “Hayden was right there, watching, and the guy’s quick to turn on anyone who doesn’t go along with his antics.”

Is he saying Hayden’s been the one behind this all along? That it was always his idea and he was nothing more than some chess piece scared to make the wrong move? And am I really starting to buy this bullshit? Fuck, I think I am. No way am I actually feeling sorry for this pathetic waste of space. But if I’m being honest, I know what he means by doing what you need to in order to get by, and how hiding behind another person is sometimes easier than being yourself.

“Yeah well, we’re not in high school anymore, Blake. You don’t have to follow the cool crowd in order to feel accepted by society.”

“Yeah . . .” he says, not sounding convinced.

“Anyway, good talk. I’ll see you around.” Looks like when I do, it might not always be the worst thing anymore. He apologized, and though I don’t plan on being his friend or adding him on my social accounts, I guess I can work toward forgiving him. More for myself than anyone else, because I’m fucking tired too, and holding onto all this hate for Blake Mitchell really has taken up a lot of my energy.

He grabs my arm before I can get in the car, and I whip my head in his direction. “How about coffee tomorrow? Or maybe I can pay your way for the show happening in the next town over this weekend? It’s my way of making amends.”

“I don’t know.” I glance down at his hand and then back at his shining blue eyes. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”