August & Colin | WRU series | book 1
We take risks. We make mistakes. We lie. We love. We hurt. We lose total control.
I took a risk. I paid the price.
I made a mistake. I felt the guilt.
I lied. I lie.
I loved. I try not to.
I hurt. I still do.
...
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I glance over at August bobbing her head to the music playing in my car. She's silently mouthing the lyrics of an indie song I would've never listened to hadn't she put it on but came to appreciate over the past week I've been driving her home from work. Its soft melancholic tones add to the emotion written all over the crease between her eyebrows.
Something's bothering her. I noticed the second I walked into the restaurant. The bell connected to the door had rung and she had spun around to face whoever was walking in. When she saw it was me she smiled. What normally would be a heartwarming energizing smile was now one that never reached her eyes.
My instincts had tugged me forward, ready to bulldoze her with questions, pressuring her to confide in me. However, the lessons I learned from the past erased those questions because the more I ask, the more I push her into silence. The more I ask, the more I let myself care, the more I let her in, and the harder it hurts when she rips away the place in my heart she made her own.
The more I push, the farther she runs.
I kept my questions for me throughout the whole evening shift at the restaurant. I ignored her heightened clumsiness and forgetfulness originating from the fact her mind was somewhere other than the customers she was serving. Each time I noticed her mind had wandered off, I teasingly pulled her back to the present, keeping the conversation light.
The longer I'm sitting in my car with her next to me, the harder it gets to tone down the instincts screaming at me to comfort her. But once I do, I'll cross another line. Another border trying to keep me from falling back into the past.
The abrupt change of August's music to my ringtone tears me away from my thoughts and from August's reaction, it had the same effect on her. I briefly look at the name on the screen.
MOM
I switch between the road in front of me and August, debating whether to leave my mom hanging or answer the call. "Don't look at me, pick up." She nods towards my phone. I press the answer button on the steering wheel.
"Hi, mom."
"Hi, Honey!" Her voice cheers through the speakers of my car. "I hope I didn't wake you up." My eyes automatically snap towards my watch.
00:47 a.m.
"You didn't. I'm driving home from work."
"How was it? How's August doing? Brooklyn told me she started working at Sorrisetto with you."
"She's awful, mom." The sarcasm floats out of my mouth before I can stop it and the only one I can blame is the part of me dying to conjure a smile on August's face. "I think she's broken more glasses than Marcia over the years." The words aren't even fully out of my mouth yet or the back of her hands slams against my chest. I laugh as I rub the sore spot and glance sideways to briefly lock eyes with her challenging gaze.
