Beautifully Broken (in editing)

Chapter 7

The cold December air stung at my cheeks as Hayden and I sat on the curb outside of the Smelly Cat Cafe and I wrapped my arms around me, wishing I'd grabbed my jacket. The wind sliced through the thin long sleeved shirt I was wearing like a knife through butter.

I shuddered, and clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. The twinkle-lights strung along the roof of the building flickered in a steady rhythm, making our shadows grow and shrink to the beat of the faint music from inside.

I shivered again and Hayden scooted closer to me. I could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and it was nice. Really nice.

"Nice apron." I snickered, gesturing towards the purple fabric hanging from his neck.

"Hey, purple is the new black!" He joked back, bumping his shoulder against mine softly. His nose did that cute little thing it always did when he smiled, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, I still feel kind of bad about the other day. You should let me make it up to you sometime." I leaned my head back against the brick wall behind us. If there was anything I didn't want to talk about, it was that incident.

"No, it's totally fine. I kind of overreacted anyway." I waved a hand, casually brushing it off.

"No, it's not fine because I still feel bad. I want to make it up to you." he pressed on and I turned my head to look up at him, unsure of whether he was joking or not.

"You're joking right? Look, it's okay, really. I'm used to that kind of thing." by this point I just wanted this conversation to be over. It wasn't worth the trouble.

"You are so difficult sometimes." He sighed, leaning his head against the wall too, almost perfectly mimicking my position.

It was silent for a moment as I wracked my brain for an easy subject change. Suddenly, I remembered exactly what I'd been wanting to ask him.

"Where have you been? I mean, you haven't really been coming to school recently." I tried to keep my tone light and conversational, but I really wanted to know.

"I had to work. I needed the money." He replied, his voice sounding tight.

He closed his eyes, running his hands over his face tiredly, and it occured to me how old the gesture looked. He didn't look 17. He didn't even look like the same Hayden I knew. This Hayden was dark and sad.

Why? Why did he need the money? The curiosity was eating me alive, but I could tell he didn't want to talk about it. And I wasn't going to push it. I was going to do for him exactly what he'd always done for me, and let it go.

"Oh, okay." was all that I could think to say without launching into a million questions. Seconds ticked by as we sat in silence.

"Hey, Delilah?" he murmured so softly, I wasn't even sure he'd said it.

"Thank you." He said, his gaze burning a hole into the side of my face. I didn't have to ask what for, I could pretty much guess.

I didn't have the courage, nor did my heart have the capacity, to look into those eyes. They'd burn straight through my secrets and leave me vulnerable, there was no doubt.

So I waited until I thought he wasn't looking and twisted to glance up at his face.

But of course, he was looking. And he was looking hard. My heart stuttered a little, but I couldn't look away. It was like I was a deer in headlights, trapped.

His hair stuck up in tufts around his head and his eyes were wide and glittering, his cheeks flushed from the cold. He looked so goofy. As I stared, he raised an eyebrow, just one, and I couldn't help but burst into laughter.