“When do we need to leave?” I question as I pat my pockets feeling if I have everything.
“Well, we need to be there in ten minutes, so the sooner we leave the better.” She replies, so I nod my head again and hold my arm out to link with her, while we walk together towards the door.
***
I sit on the hard, uncomfortable metal chair fidgeting nervously with my hands. I’m glad mom didn’t tell me where we were going; because I’m not so sure I would have come. I miss what the portly balding gentleman is saying, having too many thoughts flying through my head. I just sit here with my mom, her grip firm on my hand. I’m so thankful for her, until that is she lets go and stands up. My eyes widen in panic, I look around the room nervously, not knowing what she is about to do. She looks down at me and smiles, signaling that I should remain in my seat. She walks up to the front, beaming out over the twenty or so people that are sitting here like I am.
“Hello everyone! My name is Anna Aleksandra and I am an alcoholic. I have been sober now for seventeen years and I would like to share my story…”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” - Flint
Dillon
This should not be this hard; I mean honestly, I’m the queen of planning get togethers. Well, I was in high school and college. Maybe that’s my problem, different age range and stuff.
“Why are you stressing out over there, need some wine?” I roll my eyes at Connor. Ever since the guys have made it a point to visit me every day, they have been getting accustomed to all my little habits. Of course, Connor would be the one who would pick up on my glass of wine a night vice.
I toss the pencil on the island letting it roll over my shopping list and sigh.
“Who would think planning a child’s birthday party would be this stressful?” I moan, yes big baby moment. I, also, feel like throwing my arms up in the air and saying forget it, downing a big glass of red, because I have been slaving away. It’s really hard trying to keep it together for the better part of the day. But, I will hold off on that until everyone leaves for the night. No need to share all my charming qualities at once. A girl has to keep a few secrets.
“Let me see that.” Connor swoops past me grabbing the list to examine. “Okay what do we have, cake mix, eggs, milk… Wait, hold it right there! You don’t need any of this.” I look at him puzzled.
“Why? I need to make him a cake.”
Connor gapes at my proclamation, his jaw hanging slightly open. His eyes narrow on me, like I have somehow offended him. “I’m going to make the cake.” To further annunciate the point, he points directly to his chest with his index finger. I roll my eyes internally.
“I didn’t want to bother you; I thought you had a lot to do, what with helping Flint make the last bit of repairs to the bar for the rest of this week. I honestly don’t mind making the cake, I mean, I’m no baker but I can at least whip up a fast box cake and put some decorations on it.”
Though, it certainly would not be on the level of what Connor can produce. He just sighs dramatically, and shakes his head at me.
“Yes, I’m helping him during the day, but I will always have enough time to make a cake in the evening. I have spent the past week looking up exactly how to make one that incorporates a Tardis, Batman signal, and the Superman emblem. I want to do it so please just let me? Plus, box cake, Seriously? Mine will taste so much better.” He gives me one of those looks he’s famous for. The one that says; if you don’t let me have my way I’ll keep pushing your buttons until you give in.’ I look up to my ceiling trying to find some strength. As much as the guys have been getting to know me, I have also been getting to know them. So, besides fueling more into the stress induced headache I have been feeling coming on for the past few hours. My shoulders sag.
“Fine.” I mumble. Counting to five then looking back at him. I need to pick my battles and this isn’t one of them. He claps his hands together giving me a Cheshire cat like smile. I rub my forehead.
How can he be happy most of the time?
“So, cake is off the list, let’s see what else we have here.” Besides calling it out he scans over it. I shrug, taking the time to examine my nails and pick at the sharp edge of one I broke earlier.
“Yeah this looks like enough, so what are you stressing over?” He hands the list back to me and I quickly look over its contents again. I can’t help but be stressed, this needs to be perfect.
“Hello? I can’t read your mind so what is it?” He winks at me. I rip off a corner of the paper and screw it up into a tiny ball.
“I’m just nervous; I want this to be so perfect for him. Since you know…” I let the sentence hang knowing I don’t need to finish it.
“Look Dillon,” Connor starts as he leans over the counter to look me in the eye, “everything will turn out perfect just you wait and see. That boy knows he is loved. He knows you are doing absolutely everything for him, and he would adore you no matter what.” I can see the honesty in his eyes and let the relief wash over me a bit.
“Thank you, Connor,” I smile shakily at him, reaching up to pat his folded hands that are resting on top of the counter. He quickly grabs my hand and laces our fingers until our hands are doing this weird teepee type hold. “Plus,” he raises his eyebrows, his expression going a bit serious, “I’m planning to have enough yummy sugary stuff at this party that honestly the kids will be on such a sugar rush that they won’t be paying attention to all the small details.” The color drains from my face; we invited his class and his team to the party imagining that many kids going bonkers in my house, no way can that ever happen.
“I don’t think the parents would appreciate that too much,” I try to hedge, letting him down easy. In true Connor fashion, his steel wall is in place and he isn’t giving in.
“What are you talking about? They will love it, kid’s crash after sugar rushes, and therefore easy night for the parents.” He lets go of my hands and move to the counter to grab his keys. “So come on, we’ve got some shopping to do.” When he puts it like that, sure I can see some benefits, but that still doesn’t mean I want to sacrifice the contents of my house to a bunch of six and seven-year olds.
That’s it, they are staying outside, and I’ll get an inflatable slide if I have to. Thank heavens I have already included on the invites that has already sent out to make sure the kids are dressed to play. I get up from my seat and grab my long tan cardigan and beanie ready to go on a mission with Connor; well it will most likely turn into an adventure by the end of it. There is honestly never a dull moment around him; he is go, go, go all the time.
Lately it has had me wondering if he is running from something. Not that I have time to try and figure it out if he is, but nevertheless, it has influenced me to let him do as he pleases just to see him happy and for a quieter life. I know the guys do it for him as well.
I really feel like I’m starting to figure the guys out. The more layers I peel from this strange group of guys, the more I find that I like having them in my life. As weird as it sounds, I do feel a sense of completeness, I haven’t had in sometime. They have now turned into close friends which I’m starting to care dearly about. I haven’t had that in so long, well since Deacon, Riss, and Zep. It’s kind of nice.
My heart stutters and my body goes numb thinking about Zep, I think if he were to have been here at all lately, things would have gone a lot smoother. Does he not realize I miss him, and our friendship? Sure the guys have been wonderful and they keep sending me messages from him. But, that doesn’t mean the same as it does coming directly from him. It’s taken me a while there to transition from the hurt and anger to fully realize that over all I just miss him.
“What is going through that pretty head of yours?” I jump, placing my hand over my heart.
“Make a noise or something! Sheesh.” I scold Flint as I close my eyes.
“That was the second time I asked, so answer please.” He starts sli
pping into his Russian accent and I know his protectiveness is kicking in. It just endears me to the man even more.
“It’s nothing, I’m just wishing Zep is here again, I still can’t get over the feeling that something is missing. I know I talked to you all about it and I appreciate you holding out on telling him so I could—”
“—Not waiting anymore.” He interrupts through gritted teeth. I look down to see his fists are balled up tight, the white of his knuckles showing.
Oh no, he’s really upset.
“No, Flint don’t worry about it, I’m just being silly.” I put a hand on his arm, trying to placate him, I have never seen him react this instantaneously and it has me on edge.
“No Pchelka, you are not being silly, I have told you time and time again you have a right to your feelings. You have a right to feel them and no one should be allowed to take that from you.” He grabs me lightly by the arms, the hand I’ve been holding on to him drops. His gentle action surprises me, since he is so angry.
I really want to know what Pchelka means as I’ve heard him call me it a few times now, but I know now is not the right time to ask. He gives me a tight hug. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of this, it’s time to find out what the hell he thinks is more important than this alliance, his family.” I’m still not used to how affectionate Flint can get so it seems like my soul is singing every time he touches me. I sigh, and relax into the hug, breathing Flint’s musky scent in discretely. He moves away from me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead. I close my eyes basking in his attention while he murmurs something to me which is the reason why I don’t fully process what he had said until I hear him shut my front door behind him. My eyes fly open.
“Well you heard the man; he has it taken care of now, so let’s go shopping!” Connor proclaims, clapping his hands together causing me to jump.
How long has been there?
My cheeks start to heat as he walks towards me, lacing his fingers through mine to drag me along.
“Okay, but we have to be back in two hours for Lyon, he has his spelling test tomorrow and he is struggling with the word attempt.” I say to him changing the subject. Feeling worried about what Flint has gone off to do. I look at Connor opening my mouth to mention it but promptly close it, there’s no need to inconvenience one more person with my worries.
Maybe he will just have a good heart to heart with Zep?
I bite my lip. “Ah, I thought he had that one last night.” Connor says as I lock up the front door, distracting me from my thoughts. I shake my head.
“I did too until we woke up this morning. It didn’t stick.” I shove my keys back in my pocket and follow him to his truck waiting in my driveway.
“Well, one more night with the flash cards Everett made him and he should be good, no worries Dillon, everything will work itself out in the end. Just like it always does.” He finishes as he opens up the passenger’s door for me to hop in. When he shuts it, walking around the front to his side, I start repeating his words in my head because he is right; everything will work itself out in the end.
Or at least I hope so.
***
Flint
I knew I should have taken care of this situation sooner. I let it get too far out of hand. I really thought he was getting his act together and just wanting to do it on his own. So, I had given him space, but lately I have been wondering if what he is actually working on as a project, or, if there is even a project at all, is really an excuse to avoid the major issue; which is integrating himself back into Dillon's life.
I am not the only one who is feeling the upset of it. Even Everett is showing signs of stress from it all, and that is saying something. Dillon's demeanor tends to change whenever his name is mentioned. Then, there is Lyon who has been asking for him less and less because he knows he will get fobbed of with some lousy ass excuse. Stupid fool, I keep telling him he is missing out but he just seems to just shake it off. I cannot understand how he can be ok with that. A child grows up so fast and to miss every single opportunity with them should be a crime. I know I promised him that I will keep his ass in line until he got himself together. So, this evening will be his unlucky day as it looks like I will definitely be making good on that promise now.
From talking to his mother, I know he has been spending his days and nights at the surf shop, and while I am glad he has taken back on that responsibility, I should have known he would use it as a place to hide and drink. He has hurt Lyon and Dillon, and knowing how amazing they are, I know he would be struggling to try and come back around. Hell, if his stubborn ass would just make one appearance he would realize that Dillon has wanted to move on from everything for a while now. She just wants her friend back in her life, and I figure once he knows that, even if he still holds strong feelings for her, he would want to be there in the way she wants him.
Stupid, pinheaded zhopa.
I park my car right behind his old 87' jeep wrangler and hop out on a mission to solve this here and now. No more hiding, no more excuses he is a man and it is time to be one.
"Zephyr, I know you are in here.” I use the extra key he has given all of us to use and let myself in, hollering in hopes of finding him faster. When I get no response, I start walking through the building checking in rooms as I go. "Zep, where are you we need to talk!" I shout louder and still get nothing in return.
When I get to the back area I see a light coming from the back room and figure he must be in there. I am even more frustrated that he has been ignoring my calls.
I have had enough.
I fling open the door to find him placing something that is under a sheet in the far corner, his ear buds in place.
No wonder, he could not hear me.
I stalk up to him and tap him on the shoulder. He jumps out of his skin and turns around.
"Hey man..." he starts to smile but before he can get too far into the greeting, I pull my fist back, Zephyr’s eyes widen just as I let it fly into his jaw. I find no happiness in the loud pop it makes, or how his eyes go completely white as they go to the back of his head. His body follows the momentum, landing with a slap on the ground, his body dead weight.
Do I feel sorry for hitting him? A little. I take no pleasure hitting a friend, a brother, but he needs a wakeup call. So just like a guard would an inmate I stand over him with my arms crossed waiting for him to come too and see how he will react. I do not have to wait long. A loud pain filled groan fills the room; his eyes fly open, immediately spotting me.
After blinking a few times, he slurs, "What, huh? The fuck man?" Then winces bringing one hand cradling his jaw, speaking must hurt. His jaw is red and already starting to have a giant bruise. When he becomes more aware, he starts to prop himself up on his hand to look fully up at me.
"I should be asking you the same question." I counter, feet still firmly locked in place waiting to hear what his response would be to that.
"What the hell are you talking about?" He spits blood onto the ground and stumbles making his way onto his feet. I scoff, not believing he has the gall to try and pull that junk on me.
"Chyort voz’mi, why are you hiding behind some fake project!" I bellow out not able to keep that anger in check any longer. I really should have confronted him about this sooner; I have let this drag on for far too long. I should have taken my own advice I was dishing out to Dillon and I should have already owned my hurt feelings. I start to take deep breaths, reining in my temper a bit just to make sure I won’t fly off the handle at him again like that.
"I’m not hiding behind a fake project. I have been busting my ass to finish—" I cut him off not wanting to give him time to expand on his excuse.
"—Been working your ass off on what? Because you sure as hell have not told anyone! We have seen nothing except your back walking out the door every chance you get. Well time is up, no more running. You are hurting yourself and your family in the end, and like I told you I am not allowing you to do that anymore." I throw my hand
s in the air in exasperation not really knowing much else to say except one thing, but I do not want to hurt him with it, but maybe he just needs the truth to fully wake up. I watch as he drops his hand from his face to tighten his hands into a fist.
I must have struck a nerve. Good, about time, I am able to elicit some kind of reaction out of him. I wait for a heartbeat more hoping he will just blow up and finish getting all the shit that has been bothering him off his chest, but he just kept standing there silent and glaring at me.
I guess he does need that big wake up call.
"You know what the sad part is?" I pause, even though I know I won't get a response out of from him, “The sad part is that if you would have just showed up one time, just once, you would have realized that Dillon has wanted to talk to you. Even better than that, Dillon wants to move on. Oh, how about this, that Dillon wants her best friend back. The last remaining best friend she has left, not like you deserve her though. Oh, but don't worry, like usual, lately we have swooped in and picked up your slack, we are starting to grow on her, and Lyon is getting attached fast." I watch the color in his face drain as he closes his eyes. I am striking that chord, good, but I am not done yet.
"It is your own fault. You should have been there for Lyon, to see how he is doing. You should be there as he has nightmares from that night. Did you know he has not long came out of counseling, but Dillon is still worried he may need more? You should see how great he is becoming at tee ball, but of course, no, you have to hide behind some stupid fake project. You have to leave them both in their time of need, just like you did after the death of...."
"IT IS NOT A FAKE PROJECT!" he shouts at me then turns his body, his chest heaving. Finally, I am getting somewhere with him. Besides collecting his temper like I thought he would be doing. When he turns around he takes heavy thudding steps to the corner where the sheeted thing I saw him place earlier is propped up.
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