Guns and Roses

ELEVEN

♛Cameron Dawson♛

I lift the glass up to my lips and take a sip, my eyebrows drawing together.

I am still worked up about my last session with Harley. Why couldn't we just get on like normal human beings? Why did she have to be so fucking stubborn and snarky? I just don't get it. Maybe I was too tough on her, but was I really? I just believe that she's capable of so much more because she's actually pretty good at racing. Is it so bad that I believe in her? That I want to push her to her limits? I wasn't doing it to be a dick, I was doing it because I want her to realise her potential instead of doubting herself. I'm about to delve deeper into my thoughts when I feel a bar stool move beside me before a figure sits down on it. I turn my head to see Emery. He beckons the bartender over and orders himself a glass of Scotch before turning to me.

"Cameron." He greets with a nod "What's got your mind so preoccupied?" He asks and I frown as he takes his glass from the bartender.

"Nothing. I'm just tired." I attempt to lie before he clicks his tongue.

"You're a very good liar, boy. But this time I'm not too convinced."
I look down with a sigh and he turns himself so that he's facing me. "So?"

I let out a breath, "There's this girl-"

"Ah? A girl? I was not expecting that." He cuts me off with a small chuckle and I shake my head.

"I'm not talking about a girl in the way you're thinking." I clarify and his eyebrows draw together.

"Then what about this girl?" He asks, forehead wrinkling.

"I've agreed to teach her a few things when it comes to racing but she's just so frustrating, Emery. She drives me up the fucking wall." I grumble out and he takes a sip of his drink before licking his lips.

"Do you like her?" He asks me and I frown. "Not in a romantic way, Cameron. In a friendly way?" Emery clarifies and I purse my lips at his question.

"I guess."

"Then give her a shot. You're a closed off person but how about you let someone in for a change?" He asks. I let out a sigh.

I can't let people in. All they do is get hurt- that being the exact reason I stick to myself. I've hurt enough people to make up for a lifetime. Emery pats my shoulder, downing his glass in the process. "I'll see you later." He bids his goodbyes before leaving the bar and me drowning in a million and one thoughts.

I can't risk dragging Harley into the mess I call my life. It wouldn't be fair which is why I'll continue to keep my distance from her. However, I can definitely ease up on how harsh I am on her although that might be a little bit difficult for me. I run a hand through my hair and lift the glass up to my lips before taking another sip.

If there is one person who can make me second guess myself and my decisions, it is Harley.

And I'm not too sure I'm happy about that.

****

It is strange watching families eat and laugh obnoxiously loud while being in public at a restaurant. I can't wrap my head around why the mother laughed when her baby messed mash all around his mouth nor why the father clapped proudly at his small daughter's drawing while saying it was "beautiful" when it wasn't really. It doesn't make sense to me- why the parents found joy from the children in things as small as that. If I wanted a smile on my father's face, I would've had to do legitimate work. Like get the packages to their rightful owners on time, with the exact amount they wanted. I would've had to go to fancy dinners, balls and formals to deliver the items to the posh and rich who were wasting their endless amounts of money on shit. Only then- when I brought back money- would my father smile, pat me on the back and say: "Estoy orgulloso de ti, mi hijo. Dejaré nuestro negocio familiar en buenas manos."