The Hazed Series (New Edition)

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The Hazed Series (New Edition) Page 4

by Brittany Butler


  “We should’ve taken your car, Lea,” Hayze groans. The parking lot is full. College students fill the lot, stumbling and packed into groups.

  “Mine’s going to get scratched.”

  “And you don’t care if mine gets scratched?”

  She pretends to be offended. I laugh at her, I know little about Lea, but I’m positive nothing can offend her.

  He drives to the back and pulls into a space with an empty slot beside us. I get out of the car, mindful of my new dress. I tug on it and test the heels before meeting Hayze and Lea. I’m already regretting my outfit choice.

  “Ready?” He asks.

  Lea loops her arm through mine and we walk up to the metal building. A covered sidewalk lines the front. People stager through the door in front of us, and Lea stops with a gasp.

  “I almost forgot,” she says.

  She unzips her purse and hands me a driver’s license. I look at it with amazement. My smiling face looks back at me, the laminated, rectangular card holds lies that promise me a good night.

  “Impressive,” I tell her.

  “All is right in the world.” She smiles and drags me into the bar.

  We stop at a tall bar with a man sitting behind it. Lea and Hayze hand him their ID’s, I lay mine on the table and look away when my nerves get the best of me. He lingers on mine, glancing between me and the license. I want to tell him the truth and apologize while running out the front door, but Lea shoots me a look, telling me to act cool.

  “Never seen you in here before,” he says in a gruff voice.

  “She’s new.” Lea smiles and leans over the bar, earning a smile from him.

  He nods, satisfied with her answer, and hands me the license back. I tuck it safely in my satchel. I look around, the bar is calm, and guys stand around holding beers and talking. Music blasts from a dark hallway. Lea grabs my hand and pulls me in that direction. Hayze reappears with a beer and two drinks for us. Lea grabs her drink while I stand, staring at the drink in his hand. He shakes it in front my face, smiling.

  “What’s wrong?” His smile falls.

  “Nothing.”

  I smile and grab the drink. I take a sip, frowning from the taste. I could tell them I’ve never been drunk, but tonight I decide to let it go. I came to this school searching for a new identity and I’m not spoiling that opportunity the first chance I get.

  He laughs, taking a swig of his beer.

  “What is it?” I ask, with narrow eyes.

  He shakes his head. “You’re cute.”

  Embarrassed, and refusing to be another one of his conquests, I look away. Lea comes to my rescue, her small hands wrap around my wrist, tugging me to the hallway and Hayze follows behind us. We walk through a room leading to the bathroom and end up in a dark room equipped with flashing lights and blaring music. I’m shoved from behind as someone makes their way to the bar. Students line up, yelling their drink orders with impatience. Lea leads us to a table, and she sets her drink down.

  “Welcome to the next four years of your life. Wanna dance?”

  “Not right now,” I say, hoping she won’t ask me again.

  Two guys walk up, one clasps Hayze on the shoulder, the other hands us each a shot of amber liquid. Lea picks hers up, tosses it back, and slams it to the table.

  “Your turn,” she says, smiling.

  I eye her skeptically. I sigh, pick up the small glass and bring to my mouth. I clamp my eyes shut as the liquid scorches down my throat. I set the glass down and swipe a tear from my eye before it falls. The first time must be the worst; Lea took it better than me.

  “You shouldn’t take drinks from strangers,” Hayze says, clearly displeased. His mouth presses into a hard line.

  I shrug my shoulders. “I thought he was your friend.”

  He laughs once without humor. “You definitely shouldn’t accept drinks from my friends.”

  He turns from me and walks away. Before he makes it to the hallway, two girls flock to his side. I fix my gaze on the table; the two guys are standing at the table talking to Lea.

  “This is Taylor. She works at Mystic now. That’s Mark and Derek,” she says, pointing to them.

  Mark, the one that handed me the shot, shakes my hand and moves to my side. “Want another drink?”

  “What kind of question is that?” Lea asks, laughing.

  He salutes her and returns within minutes, handing us both a drink. I look around the room for Hayze, when I realize what I’m doing, I stop. Lea turns her drinks up and slams it on the table. She looks to me, dancing.

  “Let’s go!” She nods to the dance floor.

  I finish my drink, smiling. Suddenly, it sounds like a good idea, I let her pull me to the floor. I watch her for a minute before I sway to the music. We dance one song after the other until she pulls me back to the table.

  Hayze is back, Shelby from class is by his side with a girl I haven’t met. Her red hair is pinned to the side and her makeup is caked on. Their clothes leave nothing to the imagination. Shelby waves at me with a forced smile. Red clutches Hayze’s arm possessively. Her glare makes me question their relationship.

  “The three of us should get out of here,” she says, not so subtly.

  “Nah, I’m with my friends.” He lifts his beer, pointing it our way.

  “You will have more fun with us,” she says, one last attempt to get him to leave with her. She looks at me, then to Lea, with narrow eyes.

  “He said no! Jesus! Leave with some self-respect,” Lea says.

  The table howls with laughter.

  “I’ll go with you,” Derek says through bouts of laughter.

  Red leaves, face flushed and pissed off. Shelby follows behind her, laughing at her friend. Hayze shrugs his shoulders, chuckling. Lea pounds her fist on the table to get their attention.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she says. Hayze and I agree. We leave the bar, searching for fun.

  “That was killer,” Shea yawns after our long shift. I know the menu like the back of my hand now. Tonight was my first night to be on my own, and I nailed it. Even our manager was impressed with how quickly I picked up on the routine. Randy locks the bar as we walk to our cars together. The night air is thick with humidity. The lone light dims, suggesting we might be left in the dark. Hayze catches my wrist, stopping me. Shea smiles knowingly and waves goodnight to us.

  His amber eyes dance around my face. “Wanna grab something to eat?”

  I check the time on my phone, it’s past two in the morning, but I don’t have class tomorrow.

  “Sure,” I say reluctantly.

  He steps ahead of me, opening the car door. “C’mon,” he says.

  “I can take my car.” I point to my car; my eyes search his smirking face.

  “Nope, get in. I’ll bring you back.”

  He motions for me to join him. I roll my eyes and slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and jogs over to his side. The car roars to life, the air blasts, Led Zeppelin pours through the speaker. He adjusts the knobs before turning to me.

  “What’s open this late?” I ask as he leaves the parking lot.

  I clasp the seatbelt and shift my body away from him, realizing I’m cramped in a small space with him.

  “You’ll see.” The car turns into the lot next to the bar, he points to the sign. The car turns right and a bright purple sign comes into sight.

  I laugh and cut my eyes at him. “Taco Bell?”

  “It’s amazing at 2 a.m.”

  “Sober?”

  I giggle, remembering stories of my friends staggering in here after a long night. After years of being sheltered I no longer have to live vicariously through them.

  He looks past me, thinking. “You may have a point.”

  Once inside, Hayze orders an insane amount of food. The waitress, taps on her screen, looking flushed. He walks ahead of me, choosing a booth in a corner. My face twists into disgust. I grab a scratchy, brown napkin and wipe the table off. I ignore the crumbs that sc
atter the floor.

  Hayze watches me and laughs. “How’s rooming with Lea?”

  “I clean her side, too,” I say. I look around the booth and floor, satisfied with my area I look at him.

  “What made you chose ETU?”

  “I wanted out of my house, but at the same time I wanted to be near my mom,” I explain, he nods his head like he understands me.

  He glances through the window, thinking. “You lived with your dad?”

  I shake my head. “No, I lived with both. My mom and I get along. My dad’s a preacher. To say he was strict would be the understatement of the year.”

  “Daddy issues, nice, my plan will work,” he chuckles. I gasp, ball up a napkin and toss it at him; he swats it away.

  “Asshole!” I say and laugh.

  “Now you’re cussing? What would your dad have to say about that? Sorry, I’ll stop,” he says after he sees my expression. He holds his hands up, feigning innocence.

  “So what’s your major?” He changes the subject.

  “Undecided. I know. Typical freshman answer,” I say, between bites, and he smiles.

  “No, business it the typical freshman answer.”

  “What about you?” I ask.

  He snaps his head to the side, eyebrows arched. I follow his gaze to the window, a couple stands outside in a heated argument. The guy sees us, grabs his girlfriend’s arm and shoves her in the car.

  I shake my head, tossing my food down. “I’ll never understand that…”

  “What?” He asks. I watch the car pull from the lot. Hayze balls up his trash, tossing it on the tray in front of us.

  “Being in a controlling relationship,” I say, watching the taillights in disgust.

  His brows pull together. “We don’t know what that was about. They were probably drunk and he didn’t want her to get arrested. Cops are everywhere in this town,” he says, jerking his thumb to the vacant parking space.

  “You’re right.”

  His amber eyes hold mine, his smile is sincere. I look down, bringing the straw to my lips. The truth, is I know more about control than I’d like to admit. Control ran my life, my mom’s life; that’s the difference between my mom and me, the girl from the parking lot and me—I packed the necessities and left it behind. I’ll never be in their shoes.

  Yawning, I check my phone. “It’s past three.”

  He takes the cue, standing, he offers me his hand. When we reach the car I slide into the passenger side. I cock my eyebrow, studying him.

  “You didn’t answer any of my questions,” I say.

  “I know,” he says, matter of fact. He grins, with boyish charm. He props his hand behind my seat, turning as he backs out.

  “Huh uh, you aren’t getting off that easy.”

  He laughs, “What do you wanna know?”

  “The basics, where are you from? Any brothers or sisters?” I shrug, looking out at the vacant street. “Just the things you asked me. It’s only fair.”

  “I’m from here, and I’m not an only child.” He doesn’t look at me, but I can tell he’s amused.

  “You have the rare talent of answering a question without actually answering the question. I haven’t seen someone do that since my dad.”

  He smirks, “Comparing me to a preacher? Can’t say that’s ever happened.”

  “You won’t forget that, will you?” I ask.

  Chuckling, he shakes his head no, leaving me wondering if I shouln’t have told him about my family.

  “What about your parents?” I ask.

  “I lived with my mom. I don’t see either much.”

  “Why? I thought you said you’re from here. Did they move or something?”

  He shrugs. “No, I’m just busy. My mom understands.”

  “And your dad?”

  His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel. He laughs once without humor. “I’m sure he’d like to see me more.”

  The rest of the drive is silent. He slings the car in next to mine. I turn to thank him and he has the same idea, his face is inches from mine. I jerk away, push the door open, and climb out.

  “I had a good time, thanks for dinner.”

  “Taylor, wait!” I turn, finding him standing, his arms propped on the top of the car. “I’m not going to kiss you. Unless, of course, you ask me to,” he smirks.

  “Trust me, I won’t.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “Goodnight Taylor.”

  Like clockwork Lea strolls on the patio with no time to spare. The strap of her purse slides down her arm and lands on the table with a loud thump. She huffs and places her coffee in front of her as she slides into the chair. Over the last few days we have an unspoken agreement to meet here for coffee before work. We hash out the day and get everything off our chest before we go in. It’s coffee therapy.

  “Stressful day?” I ask.

  “It’s like every professor ganged up on me and decided it was ‘be an asshole to Lea week.’ Seriously, you should see how many projects I have!”

  “What’s your work schedule like this week?”

  I cringe, taking in her packed notebook. Her notes are scattered everywhere; she’s unorganized and that only makes it worse.

  “Ugh, don’t even ask,” she says, rolling her eyes.

  “If you need help let me know. My classes are pretty boring and I basically only work on weekends.” I take the straw in my mouth and welcome the sweet, cool taste.

  She smiles, sets down her phone and looks me in the eyes. “You are awesome. So, Shea told me Hayze isn’t picking up girls at the bar anymore, what’s up with that?”

  With an eyebrow raised, I eye her skeptically. “I honestly haven’t noticed. Maybe he picks them up somewhere else.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it,” she says, shaking her head. “She said you guys left together one night.”

  “We just went to eat,” I explain. I still don’t know what’s going on between the two of them so I didn’t mention it. It was innocent other than the almost kiss we had.

  Something about the way she watches me is amused with curiosity. “Maybe that’s why he’s slowing down,” she says. Her smile is smug as she brings the cup to her mouth and takes a fast sip. She slams it on the table and wipes her mouth. “Fuck, that’s hot!”

  I chuckle, “That’s what you get.”

  “You can’t blame me for being curious,” she says in defense. “I’m not the only one, ya know? I heard some girl dragging his name through the mud in my last class, another girl saw him with you, just curious,” she shrugs.

  “This place is worse than high school!” My jaw drops and I look at her in horror.

  “Not everyone. Just some groups. Stay away from the sorority girls and you will be fine.” I nod. “And most of the frat boys,” she says after taking some time to think.

  “Anyone else?” I laugh.

  She taps her phone then tosses it in her bag. “I’ll make you a burn book when I get off work,” she says with sarcasm dripping from her voice.

  “Very funny,” I say. I roll up a clean napkin and toss it at her.

  “You know Mean Girls? You mean you were actually allowed to watch that movie, preacher’s daughter?” She laughs.

  “I watched it at a friend’s,” I deadpan.

  “You rebel, you. Hey, I’ve gotta run. I have to be at work in an hour,” she says.

  “Oh, me too,” I cringe.

  With a quick change of clothes, I’m in my car and driving to work. I arrive early; the only car in the lot is Shea’s. My phone chimes with a text from my mom, but I ignore it until I figure out the best way to break the news to her. She isn’t going to be thrilled to find out I won’t make it to Sunday dinners because of my new job.

  “Hey Tay, we’re short tonight, it’s going to be crazy!” Shea calls to me.

  “Lovely,” I groan.

  “But, hey, more tips for us, right?” She smiles and disappears behind the bar.

  My phone rings; I slide i
t from my pocket, sigh and answer, “Hey, mom.”

  “Hey, Tater Bug how’s your first week?” I roll my eyes. At eighteen I’m still referred to as my childhood nickname. I’ve tried to explain that to her but she waves me off, saying she’ll call me that for the rest of my life.

  “It’s good. How are you? Empty nest syndrome kicking in?” I laugh. I balance the phone between my shoulder and face, attempting to fill the ice bin before we get busy.

  “Scott won’t allow it,” she says, laughing. I smile at that sound; it’s one that I miss every day. Her calm voice and soothing laugh got me through the worst times of my life.

  I laugh, “I think Scott’s more upset about me moving than anyone else.”

  “Hey, Taylor, we need ya out here. Randy opened the flood gates!” Shea calls.

  “Mom, I’m at work I gotta go,” I say.

  “One quick thing! Are you coming to Sunday dinner?”

  I cringe. “No, I work all weekend.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll let your dad know,” she says, the spark missing from her voice.

  “I’ll have dinner with you this week, promise. Love you, mom.”

  “Love you, too baby.” I end the call and shove my phone in my jean pocket. As I round the corner I see Shea was right, the bar is packed. Hayze is behind the bar; Jace and Eric are in an angry rush with him. They pump out drinks, trading money and yelling over the crowd.

  “Get that group’s drink order!” Shea yells.

  The group of co-eds patiently waits to be served. I rush to their table, smiling. “What can I get y’all?” I ask.

  “Four Miller taps,” the guy near me says.

  “Two gin and tonics,” the girl clutching his arm says.

  I scribble the drinks down and shove my way through the crowd. Hayze walks to me, leaning over the counter. “Whatcha got?” He smiles, taking the paper from me.

  He reads over my messy drink order. He walks to the tap, pours my drinks and mixes the gin and tonics. I arch an eyebrow as he walks from behind the bar. He slips two drinks to me and carries the others to the table.

  “Uhh, thanks but you don’t have to do my job,” I say, feeling uncomfortable with his help. I don’t want people talking more than they already are. I look around, searching for Shea, but she’s busy with another table. I hope she doesn’t see us and tell Lea, the last thing I want is her teasing me about Hayze.

 

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