Midnight

8

Everett

I slumped down deeper into my seat when another car passed me. My windows were so deeply tinted, it wasn't necessary, but I refused any fucking chance of Celestine finding out what I was doing tonight.

The thought crossed my mind so fucking much. I thought I would be strong enough to resist, but tonight I couldn't, and it scared me.

Ever since Friday, I thought it would be fit to keep a few tabs on her.

My heart was engulfed in flames when I remembered the damn phone call. Whether it was accidental or not, it pissed me off.

Now it felt like I had to keep tabs.

Damon and his shit-eating friends had gotten cocky enough to corner such a sweet girl.

I could see her now, her big blue-gray doe eyes colored in worry gazing up at me. She cared so much about how I viewed her, how each word and movement would make me react.

I felt disgusted with myself, how I let her believe I was angry either with or at her. I wondered if she could figure me out correctly, could she tell I was frustrated with myself and Damon, or did she think I was annoyed at her?

I grumbled a string of cuss words as realization struck me like lightning, that day I drove her to my house, did she think I was angry?

Oh fuck, she had read me all wrong! I wanted to jump out of my car, scale the tree planted too close to her window, slide through it and apologize. To plead my case, explain myself and why I couldn't bring myself to be near her.

I wasn't angry that day, I was concerned. Concerned about her safety, which always seemed to be fucking compromised.

I knew I acted like an asshole today after school, but it was only because I wanted nothing but to beat Damon to a bloody pulp.

Had I taken it out on her?

Just as I thought of her text message—how I left her on read, unable to find a way to respond— my phone rang.

It was Gray.

"Fuck do you want?"

"Hey!" He beamed so loudly into his microphone I flinched, holding my phone away from my ear. "What are you up to right now?"

"You don't want to know," I groaned, twisting my key in the ignition. My engine roared to life, and for a foolish moment I hoped it wasn't loud enough to wake Celestine—even though I was parked a few houses away. "Why?"

"Listen," His tone flipped like a light switch, all humor gone. "Jake keeps bugging me about the deadline. You still up for it?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I took one last skeptical survey of Celestine's house before I peeled away from the curb. "I'll see you at Jake's."

+

I was waiting in Jake's gargantuan garage, surrounded by expensive cars no one dared touch.

The next meet was next Friday, and I was paranoid that Jake would insist I practice for it. I was a natural, and any time spent practicing was time spent away from Celestine, which felt too risky.

What would Celestine think of this side hustle of mine?

No—she wouldn't have anything to think of it. This was the sole reason we stopped being friends. If anyone in this business found an association between her and I, she could become a target quicker than a blink of an eye.

Fuck. How could I let myself get so close to her? How could I become so inconsiderate? I thought I was helping her by being so close, but maybe I was doing the opposite.