The Inbetween Cult

chapter sixteen - make it up to me: part two

Casey

After a delicious linner, it's around six or seven and Haze and I are heading to our second destination.

"Can I have a hint?" I ask, begging to know where we're going.

"Nope."

"Haze, please! Come on!"

"No way, Kitten!"

"You're such a dick." I fold my arms and look out the window. "First you're flirting with Slut, now you won't just give me a hint. I don't even know why I hang out with you.

He laughs. "Damn, you really hate me." He sighs loudly. "Fine!" He takes the back of my hand and kisses it, then my shoulder. "It's somewhere you love even more than your house. Or Hair's house, or my house, or Jovie's house. Or  Red Lobster."

"Damn," I say.

"Now keep quiet about hints, I'm not giving out any more."

I smile. "Good enough for me."

He winks and I swallow, looking out the window, his thumb doing circles on my thigh, giving me shivers.

When we arrive at the store, I about scream in happiness.

"VERTIGO?!" I cry.

"I'm letting you pick out three records. Choose wisely."

I whip around and grab his face. "I COULD FUCKING KISS YOU!"

He grins. "You could."

I stare at him, then clear my throat and sit back. "But I'm not going to. I'm going to stay calm, cool, and collected. Three c's."

He chuckles. "Whatever you say, Kitten."

I jump out of the Jeep and run inside Vertigo, squealing happily. I roam every aisle that holds old and new records, my heart thudding in happiness.

Three.

Three.

Only three.

No more.

Not two.

Not four.

Three.

I grab a "Passion Pit" album the second I find it, then I find an "Ed Sheeran" one and grab that, too.

One more.

One more.

I roam the isles once more, then that's when I find a "Bob Dylan" record and it reminds me immediately of my real dad.

He loved Bob Dylan. He's the one that got me hooked on the turntables and older songs.

I slowly pick it up and look at the cover.

"Found your three?" Haze asks softly, holding my waist.

My heart flutters and I nod slightly, swallowing.

"Okay," He takes them from me and walks to the register to pay.

I felt awful, each one was between fifteen dollars and twenty-five, and there were three  of them.

Twenty minutes later, Haze and I are back in the Jeep after getting coffee from a nice, retro coffee shop next door to Vertigo.

"Was that all?" I ask, hoping it was because I was afraid he had no more money left, which made me feel awful.

He laughs loudly. "Hell no. We got two more places."

"Haze!" I cry. "You're wasting all of your money!"