Racing Down Sunset Boulevard

Chapter 30

Kaylah's POV

After seeing Nathan apartment, I can say I was bit shocked by how... plain Gage's place looked. It was no more than the average middle-class apartment: a decently sized living room with an open kitchen, a hallway to the left leading to most likely a bedroom and an attached bathroom. There were no lavish decorations, no extravagant furniture or fine carpets. The only distinguishable trait were the generous windows with a panoramic view of this half of the city, and the sea beyond.

"Believe me, the view doesn't make up for the noise on Sunset downstairs," he gave a nervous chuckle, a hand rubbing absently at the back of his head, seeming unsure of himself in his own home. I found it weirdly endearing.

I made my way to the kitchen, and he followed like a lost puppy. "Do you have anything to drink?"

He nodded, making his way to the fridge and muttering lowly "Well-um- I think I have a couple beers. I don't keep much alcohol around since..." he trailed off, then shook his head and tried again "Since, well, you know."

In fact, I did know, and I decided to spare him the trouble, "Beer is fine. In fact, I prefer it most days," he visibly relaxed at that, and passed a can. Lemon flavoured, interesting. I cracked it open and drained half of it in one gulp. I moved to go back to the living room, and saw him staring at me, lips forming a surprised o shape.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh c'mon, you look way too surprised. Women can drink beer too, honey,"

Another nervous chuckle, "Yeah, I know that of course but Ari hated it and I supposed most of you did too? I don't know," he flailed his arms weirdly, supposedly referring the entirety of the female population.

I changed the subject, "Weird question. How come your place is so plain? I mean, I'm all for the minimalist living style, but I'd thought your parents were...." Filthy rich? Spoiling you? I didn't even know where I was going with this, so I shut myself up with another gulp of beer.

He weird seemed to brighten at my question, which I hadn't expected. "Yeah well when I turned 18, I decided I'd like to try and make it on my own, you know. Be less of a 'spoiled brat'. I found this place for rent dirt cheap, probably because of nobody wants to be woken up at every hour of the night by cars racing on Sunset. I make rent comfortably from football. Well, did," he lapsed into a weird silence, and I decided not to push it.

I leaned further into the couch and felt something solid under one of the decorative pillows. Frowning, I pushed it aside and found a black leather journal, with a cheery smiley face sticker in one corner. "What's this?"

He looked at the journal, and then met my gaze, looking slightly flushed "It's from my therapist. I'm supposed to write down any angry or upset thoughts and try to pinpoint where they come from. Dreams too, sometimes. You can take a look I don't mind," I flipped it open, curiously skimming through it.

"What's it like, seeing a therapist? "I tried to sound casual, conversational. I didn't take my eyes off the journal.

When I'd finally convinced Ari to see a psychologist, we made a pact: She goes as long as I don't ask about it, and we keep it quiet. But Gage seems perfectly okay with it, so what's the harm in asking?

He was silent for so long I wasn't sure he'd answer. "Ugh just forget I'd asked. I mean, it's a stupid q-"

"It helps, you know. You don't realise right away, but you wake up one day and notice it in the little things. And no, it's not stupid. It's just that you're the first person that has asked me that," he muster realised what I was about to ask, because he had an answer before I even voiced a question.