2.0 The Chronicles of Us - Shame & Blame

Chapter thirty-eight

•★ Tex ★•

Holding hands, we leave the lunchroom. The food was good but more importantly, we talked some more about the fears we harbor and the hopes we have. In a quiet voice, she told me all about her nightmares. It made me feel like an absolute dick. Not only trauma but also deep-rooted guilt drove her away from me and kept her awake at night. She truly believed she's an awful person when, in fact, she's the most selfless creature I've ever met. Every dumb and hurtful decision she made was out of love for me.

She's stronger than me, though. Instead of attempting to lighten her burden by turning to drugs or alcohol, she carried that pain and soldiered on.

Did I tell her that? Yes, I did.

We're gonna ace this whole talking-thing. Lack of communication almost broke us up again. No fucking way I'm letting that happen a third time.

I pull her a little closer to my side because, honestly, I want her close all the time. "You really kept your promise. That monstrous stack of pancakes disappeared in less than five minutes."

Her eyes roll. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is. Four minutes and twenty-three seconds to be precise." I smile proudly. "I timed it."

The gasp that escapes her lips suggests I offended her great-great-grandma. "Tex! You can't do that."

I feign a bemused look. "Of course I can. I already did."

She does that fake stern face, scrunched nose and narrowed eyes. It's cute as fuck. She can't hold it, though. A laugh bursts right through, making me laugh as well. Holy hell. I'm so happy, I can't even remember how to grimace. Fortunately, I remember very well how to kiss her. Just to make sure I didn't forget, I hold her face still and smash my lips on hers. The yearning to be close is mutual. I can taste it on her tongue, feel it in the way she immediately fits her body against mine. Before I can sneak in a little boob-action, the scrape of a throat interrupts us. I consider ignoring it, but Ellie has more manners than me and eases out of my embrace.

Reluctantly, I search for the source of our disruption. Two young guys—fourteen or so—awkwardly look at us. They remind me of myself when I was that age. Scruffy but hopeful.

"What's up?" I ask.

The tall one pushes the other forward to speak. "You're Tex, right? From D.E.R?"

D.E.R?

Right. The abbreviation of our band name. "The one and only."

The tall, lanky kid with spiky black hair finds his voice. A squeaky one, that is. Good old puberty. "Can we get an autograph?"

I shrug once. "Sure, show me your tits and I'll sign them."

They both side-glance at each other like they're unsure whether to laugh or to be afraid of their lives.

Ellie slaps my arm with the back of her hand. "Tex! They're minors."

"Right—fuck. I was kidding. Keep your clothes on, please, and give me a pen and some paper."

Chuckling, they open their backpacks and take out their school planners and pens. While we chat a bit about the upcoming tour and album release, Ellie circles us, silently squealing and snapping pictures with her phone. This might be worse than being hounded by the paparazzi, because I can't yell at this one to fuck off. Not that I want to, of course. I simply ignore her high-pitched praise. It must be working because I don't hear her anymore.

"Yo!" Skinny kid suddenly looks alarmed. "What the hell?"

Was I unintentionally being an asshole? Happens sometimes. I mean, I have little filter and a big mouth. However, his words don't seem to be directed at me. I follow his gaze all the way across the street and ... "Jesus Christ!"