The Walter Boys Assistant

Chapter 10: Best Friend

Chapter 10: Best Friend

What is worse than not being able to take yourself anywhere whenever you feel like it? Having to go and ask someone else to take you somewhere. Yet, you find yourself walking around back, finding Cole basking in the sun on a lounge chair and you exhale shortly before approaching.

"Cole," you speak, studying him. His eyes are closed shut, headphones in and blasting loud enough for you to clearly make out the song Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day. "Cole!" You snap, flicking his leg and you jump upright. When his startled gaze lands upon you, he groans and takes out his headphones.

"What do you want?" He asks, clearly irritated by your presence.

"Sorry to interrupt your self-pity party. But I need a ride into town." You state, fidgeting your fingers at your side. It's a nervous tick you've had all thanks to your dear friend anxiety.

Cole looks over you before that deviously crooked smile grows on his face and you realize it won't be as easy as a please and thank you to get a ride.

"What's the matter? Things with Alex not going so well?" He taunts, a smirk on his face, exposing his sharp jawline even more under the basking sun.

"Cole, seriously. Can you just do this for me?" You whine. It's evident you're upset and not in the mood to play any of the games he has in store for you. He rises to his feet and shrugs.

"You're lucky I was planning on going out." He responds before grabbing a black shirt and throwing it on, heading for the front yard. You have to take large strides to catch up to his casual walk. It was one of the many disadvantages to being shorter compared to all these boys around you. They were naturally faster just walking.

Your heart bellows in your chest upon walking around his truck, the barn back in view. Silently, you pray that Alex doesn't come walking out to continue your previous conversation. A headache was already coming on top of your churning stomach and aching heart.

You reach the passenger door and swing it open, hopping in. You're in such a hurry that you nearly shut the door on your ankle, but thankfully your reflexes are faster and swing in fully before it slams shut.

"Hey, don't slam the door or you're walking." Cole quipped as he climbed into the driver's seat and started up the engine. You don't respond, only keep your eyes focused on your shaking hands folded together on your lap.

Don't look at the barn. Don't look at the barn.

You repeat these words, allowing that to be the only thought present as Cole pulls off down the driveway. The further you get from the house, the looser your chest feels. After a few minutes, the property is far from view and you slump into the seat more, exhaling.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Cole questions, breaking the silence. You glance in his direction, finding him still watching the road with his right hand on the steering wheel and his other propped against the doorframe, his pointer and middle fingers holding his arm propped up against the seal of the open window. Wind ripples through the car, jostling his dirty blonde hair around. You always hated to admit it, but Cole Walter was one of the most attractive men you've met. He just had this presentation to him that fit any typical popular jock in Hollywood movies. Everyone else knew it; especially him. You hate that he knows how gorgeous he is. Or, even worse, that he knows you believe it too.

"There's nothing to talk about." You answer after returning your attention to your hands. Your thumb applies stiff pressure against the point between your pointer finger and thumb of the other hand. Feeling anything but the pain in your chest was the better alternative.