The Meet [Jaime Preciado] [Book 3]

[11] Guess Who's Here

Vic

Men don’t cry, Vic. Real men are tough and strong. You’re being a little bitch.

My thumb scrolled down my Instagram feed. My friends were all out partying – even my brother, who didn’t bother to check on me – and they didn’t appear to be disappointed that I wasn’t there.

Then, when I hit refresh, a new picture was there.

@Kellinquinn: missing the dude @piercethevic

It was a picture of him with big eyes and a beer mug in front of his lips, his chin on the table behind it. His hair was in his eyes.

I instantly liked it, as did thousands of our fans. Reluctantly, my lips turned into a smile.

Kellin had a way of doing that; making me smile. It was a weird thing. I would always watch him, stare at him, admire him, and he’d never look back at me the same way. Even though I knew… I knew he didn’t like me like that, he never failed at making me smile, if only a little bit.

Locking my phone, I plugged it into the charger, turned off the little light in my bunk, pulled up my blanket, rolled onto my side, and fell asleep, the distant noise of the movie Tone and Toni were watching in the back lounge lulling me to sleep.

You’re lucky he cares, if you can even call it that.

**

Lily

His hand molded into mine as we started walking at a slow pace. My bracelets brushed against his arm, but he didn’t seem to mind.

My eyes remained on either the concrete or the scenery in front of us. I could feel his eyes moving from straight ahead to me, which made the redness in my cheeks stay a little longer than normal.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your hair?” Jaime asked suddenly, and when I turned to look at him, he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by asking me that. It was like we were writing a letter to each other, or talking on the phone; no embarrassment or awkwardness.

“I don’t think so,” I responded in my normal speaking voice; not quietly like usual. “Have I ever told you the story of why I dyed it?”

He shook his head, so I explained.

“So, let me get this straight,” Jaime uttered between chuckles. “You broke into your ex-best friend’s ex-boyfriend’s house in Baltimore because he cheated on her, trashed the place, and conveniently had to move just before they could catch you? Then, you dyed your hair to have a new look? That doesn’t sound real.”

“It is!” I pouted, squeezing his hand. “Carlos was a real asshole. I don’t know why she dated him anyway. But, while on the topic of my hair – I’m thinking of dyeing it a different color soon.”