Out Of The Blue ( Out Of #1 )

07

Loren

As we sat at the dining table, I slid my chair closer to Carlos, leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Why is he here?"

Carlos glanced at the man across from us before leaning back, his voice low, "I invited him."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Don’t you hate him?"

"Still do."

I looked at him, baffled, then turned back to Asher, who clearly sensed the tension. His eyes flicked to mine, and a smile crept across his face, revealing a set of dimples. I smiled back, unsure why.

The conversation carried on, flowing between the clink of silverware and shared anecdotes. It became obvious that Astor treated Asher with the same fondness he showed Carlos. That, I realized, must be why Carlos saw him as competition.

"How do you know Loren?" Mom asked suddenly, her question slicing through the chatter, making me freeze.

"Just... by accident." Asher beamed, the lie sitting easily on his lips.

"Oh, I hope you help her settle in at school. She’s usually so quiet, it can be hard for her to make friends," Mom pressed kindly.

"I have Mila," I interjected.

"And who's Mila?" Asher asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Her best friend. Her only friend," Carlos chimed in, his voice edged with mockery.

"She’s not my only friend," I countered, heat rising in my chest.

"Really?" Mom smirked, seeing right through me. "Name one."

My lips parted, but no words came out.

"Thought so," she said, placing a hand on Astor’s arm.

"Don’t worry, ma’am," Asher added, his smile widening. "I’ll take good care of your daughter."

"I’m pleased to hear that."

Carlos, the one who invited his rival to this dinner, remained uncharacteristically silent. I tugged at his sleeve under the table, catching his eye. "Say something. You invited him," I whispered.

Carlos frowned, then finally looked across the table. "So, what do you like about Loren?"

I shot him a sharp look. "What are you doing?" My whisper turned urgent as I tugged harder at his shirt.

"You told me to talk," he whispered back, a smirk playing at his lips.

Asher’s calm smile didn’t waver. "Loren is... normal." His gaze shifted to me, waiting for my reaction.

"Just normal?" Carlos pressed.

Asher paused before his smile deepened. "I haven’t gotten to know her that well yet. But when I do, I’ll be sure to make a list for you." He shot Carlos a sly grin.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Great."

"I’m glad you kids are getting along," Astor said with a smile, lifting his glass to sip his wine.

"Yeah," Carlos muttered, staring daggers at Asher, who grinned back, undeterred.

"Thank you for having me," Asher said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, his movements graceful. "I should be going. It’s getting late."

"Get home safe," Astor said with a nod. "Loren, walk him out."

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but didn’t argue. Rising from my seat, I followed Asher out of the dining room. We walked in silence through the mansion until we reached the front door. There, he turned to face me, his dimples showing again as he smiled.

"You look beautiful. As always, Beau," he said, the words were slipping out before I could react.

I stood frozen, stunned into silence as he chuckled softly and walked down the steps toward his car.

"Sweet dreams, beau," he called out, his smile suddenly seeming almost genuine. Almost... happy.

"You too, dimples," I murmured, standing at the doorway, watching as he got into his car. I stayed there until his taillights disappeared beyond the gates.

You look beautiful. As always, beau.

Those words were replayed in my mind over and over that night. It felt wrong, and yet, there was a thrill in it. I knew I shouldn’t feel this way. I didn’t deserve to. But I did. Maybe just for tonight.

No. I shouldn't feel this way. I don't deserve it. I'm Loren—the abnormal one. Only humans can truly feel something like this. Emotions are pain, they’re disastrous.

Snap out of it, Loren.

You don’t deserve it.

I groaned, burying my head deeper into the pillow.

This is stupid. I’m stupid.

Sitting up abruptly, I grabbed my phone and dialed Mila’s number. After three rings, she answered.

"Sup?" she greeted me casually.

"Say something to make me forget," I blurted, not entirely sure what I was asking for.

"Forget about what?"

"Something."

"Tell me."

"No."

"Loren," she whined.

"No."

"Fine." A pause lingered on the line. "Now tell me something to make me forget," I repeated, more firmly this time.

There was a brief silence before she spoke again. "Remember sixth grade?"

"What about it?"

"When that Eliot kid said something that offended you."

"Wait, are you talking about when he told me I was heartless and didn’t act like a girl?"

"Exactly." She chuckled softly.

I rolled my eyes. "What about it?"

"You punched him. Right in the face. Humiliated him in front of everyone." Her laugh rang out, infectious.

I found myself laughing along. "And I got suspended for a week. No regrets though. That punch felt so good."

"He deserved it."

We kept talking for over an hour, drifting from one topic to another, until the heavy thoughts that had plagued me began to fade. Gossip, jokes, random memories—it was like a balm, numbing the ache that had settled earlier.

What would I do without Mila?

I wondered. She didn’t know it, but she saved me. If it weren’t for her, who knows how long I would’ve stayed trapped in that darkness, waiting for someone to reach out and pull me free.

When I was with her, I didn’t feel alone. I had someone—someone who saw me, who made me feel like I mattered.

The night was filled with chatter and laughter until Carlos knocked on the door, his voice muffled as he told me to keep it down. I mockingly imitated him before ending the call with Mila.

Burying my head back into the pillow, I let out a long sigh.

I’m not alone. I have someone.

That was my last thought before sleep pulled me under, and everything faded into darkness.