Honey Buns

5

"You've gotta be more careful, honey buns,".

CAP BOY.

I stand there at a loss for words.

"You good?" He asks with a sly grin slightly forming on his face.

My irritation vanishes instantly. As I scan his face for the first time in proper lighting, I feel myself staring in recognition of who he is.

"Dee?" Jason taps my shoulder.
"Darya... DARYA!" Jason yells in my ear. I snap back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm good," I say distractedly to Jason.

"What are you doing here?" I question, trying mask my face into indifference. It seems to work when Jase pipes up unfazed by my abrupt question.

"Anyway, I was trying to tell you about who the customer was. Remember Andre? From middle school?"

Of course I fucking do. 

Andre Brookes. 

The one and only guy to make me cry so hard I wanted to change schools. It was like he made it his mission to fuck with me on a daily basis. Looking at him now, all those old feelings of anger and resentment begin to rise up my throat. 

"So how're you finding it? Being back and all?" Jason asks Cap Boy, making small talk. I slowly begin zone out and almost let my angry thoughts consume me.

He looks different without the cap. One thing for sure is that he's tall. LIKE FUCKING TALL, tall. Literally a whole foot above me, taller than Jason even. His dark hair looks messy, as if he runs his fingers through it a lot. I study his face and notice light scars peppered around it. He looks so different to how he did back then. 

"You got a staring problem?" Cap Boy asks, turning his head toward me.

"Just wondering what hole you crawled out from," I reply with indifference.

"She bites," Cap Boy replies amused.

"Yeah I can-"

"Alrighty! I guess you guys do remember each other," Jason cuts in with a clap of his hands.

My stare sends daggers towards Andre as he calmly looks towards Jason. 

"What the fuck is he doing here? We have a no service policy for assholes," I spit.

Andre simply scoffs and rolls his eyes.

They were light brown. Not the 'playful' coffee kind of brown, but the mischievous kind of brown, with hints of green if the light was angled a certain way. If he turned away from the sun, the colour could be mistaken as a dark, dark brown. Just as he could be mistaken as a nice guy, which he was anything but.

"... right Darya?" Jason trails.

"Yeah whatever," I reply too busy plotting the death of my childhood rival to pay attention to what he said.

"I'll swing by and drop her off by your place at around 4 tomorrow," Andre says to me.

Drop who?

"Huh?" I say, my eyebrows raising in confusion.

"My bike? Uh... for the repair?" He asks in confirmation as a small smile plays on his lips.

Bike.

Fix.

Me.

I slowly catch up to the conversation and realization hits me. There's not a chance in the hottest part of hell that I would fix his bike willingly.

"Actually, no I can't. Too busy," I shrug innocently. 

"What are you talking about? You don't have any other projects lined up for the next two weeks and the Jeep is practically done," Jason whips his head towards me, eyes narrowing.

"I can find someone else..." Andre trails off.

"Please do. Preferably someone who gives a fuck," I smile and start to walk away as Jason sighs loudly.

"She'll do it bro, sorry about that. Leave the bike at our place tomorrow and I'll let you know when it's done," Jason apologizes to Andre.

I roll my eyes so hard that I almost get a head ache. My hands almost shake from the amount of anger Andre was able to pull out of me with hardly any conversation. 

I walk to the break room and angrily grab my ice coffee from the fridge. I silently curse when it spills on my jeans. 

Fuck sakes.

"Sheesh what is up with you? I know you guys have history but he's a customer Dee," Jason scolds with an annoyed tone as he follows me to the fridge.

"What's up with me? What's up with you. You know what he did to me and you're nice to him? I'm not working on his piece of shit bike and I couldn't care less if he's a customer or not,"

"That piece of shit bike will finally get our financials in order and keep this place from running into the ground," Jason retorts.

"I don't care. You want the bike done so badly, you do it. He made my life a living hell and there's no fucking way that I'm doing anything for that asshole," I say stubbornly.

"Grow the fuck up Dee. That was years ago. You're working on that bike even if it means working on it during weekends. I would do it but you of all people already know the amount of shit that's on my plate, from dad to football and shit I'm sorting out at home. This could change everything for us, for this place. Don't fuck this up just because of some childish middle school vendetta," Jason snaps angrily and walks out, ending the conversation.

Fuck him.

Fuck this shop.

And fuck Andre Brookes.

—

Welp. A lot of fucks in there lol but the plot thickens. 

I'm new to this so criticize to your hearts content.

Stay iridescent,
Tee.