The Stars In Your Eyes ✩ Tim Shepard

All's Bad That Ends Bad

"HE'S WHAT?!" Bre shrieks.

Several customers in Angelo's turn in their seats to side-eye the girl. Meanwhile, I shush her, simultaneously putting a hand over my friend's mouth and finger up to mine. Once people turn back, I allow myself to sigh, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

I haven't been able to sleep for the last few days, so I decided to pick up extra shifts at the diner to keep my mind busy. It beats thinking back on the conversation Whales and I had. Moreover, it's better than thinking Tim.

Breanna looks over her shoulders, double-checking that the coast is clear. "He's what?" She whispers this time.

"Tim's back," I repeat, leaning over the counter to speak with my friend as I cross my arms. "And there's supposedly this whole thing between his gang and the River Kings."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Back up." She makes a rewinding motion with her hands. "What?"

I nod. "Just like I said. Tim got fucked up and started crap he didn't need to start with Ricky's gang." I explain, being careful to keep my voice down.

Since before Tim Shepard crashed back into my life, I've caught a glimpse of members of other gangs around here. Ricky Kallan himself even walked in here a few weeks ago with two other boys from his crew. They ordered cokes and fries, but Ricky and I never exchanged a word let alone did he bother looking at me.

Bre gives me a quizzical look, trying to connect the dots herself. But she gives up. "Why."

"Because of me."

I push away from the counter, snagging the glass coffee pot off the hot plate. Breanna gets up to follow me as I go around topping off people's morning fixes and collecting dirty dishes to return to the kitchen.

"What do you mean 'because of you'?" She inquires, following behind me like a lost puppy.

I sigh, thanking the older gentleman who slides a ten into my apron pocket as I take this syrup-coated plate and dirty utensils. I haven't told her yet...

"Connie?" Bre stands in front of me as I drop the plates at the window. "What do you mean 'because of you'?"

I sigh again, shaking my head as I look through the window at the cooks Bret and Angelo. I bite my tongue...

- - -

Breanna stares at me in shock, her mouth hanging open.

"Say something," I beg of her.

She blinks, falling back against the brick wall of the alley behind Angelo's where we take our breaks.

"I need a smoke." She replies, pulling out a box of cigarettes from her jeans pocket. As she grabs one for herself, I hold out my hand, silently asking for one as well. She blinks at me, but nevertheless strikes a match and lights up the both of us.

I bring the cigarette to my lips, close my eyes, and rest my head against the wall behind me. It burns my lungs, making me cough, but I don't give a damn.

We sit in silence, neither of us saying a word.

God, I messed up...

"How was his dick?" Breanna suddenly asks. The bluntness of her words makes me snort and we both fall into laughter.

"Sorry..." She shakes her head, taking a puff. "Forget I asked that. How are you?"

I shrug. "Fine. I left him before he woke up." The second I say it, the guilt comes flooding back. "God... Ugh! What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Tears pickle my eyes as I result to holding my head in my free hand.

"Hey!" Bre snaps, crouching down in front of me. "There's nothing wrong with you. Any sensible person would run out on Tim Shepard after having his dick in them."

I groan. "Any sensible person wouldn't have slept with Tim Shepard in the first place," I argue. I lift my cancer stick, taking a drag from it.

"Maybe so," My friend shakes her head, "but it was an emotional night. Do you know how much stress you were probably under that night?" She doesn't wait for me to respond. "And who cares? It was months ago, it's over now."

"But if I just never left him that morning then all this gang rivalry shit wouldn't be happening," I argue.

She snatches my wrists. "Connie, that ain't on you." she snaps. "One way or another Tim would have messed with the River Kings and they would have fought back. It's just unfortunate timing."

"It's just my fault." I reword.

Bre looks like she wants to slap me. "Fine! Think about it that way, then, Connie. The longer you do, the more guilty you're gonna feel for something you didn't even there for!"

I blink at her, taking the cigarette from my mouth. "You sound like Whales."

"Yeah, well then, he gets it. You can't be held responsible for other people's actions, Connie. Especially that of Tim Shepard's." The girl takes a drag from her smoke. "Listen to me, Connie, you didn't tell Tim to go slash the King's tires, he did that on his lonesome, just like you decided not to stay that night. We all do things for a reason, like trying to get out of a bad situation or beating people up for kicks. Difference is we all have different reasons. What's yours?"