Hazed

by Brittany Butler

CHAPTER SIX

  The sky rumbled, threatening to open up before I make it to the dorm. My first round of tests passed in a breeze. Lea was right, freshman year is a complete blow off. I tighten the strap of my backpack as I pick up my speed.

  The bottom falls out of the sky when I swing the dorm door open. After a hectic work weekend and a week jammed full of tests, I collapse on my small bed. I haven’t had time to think about everything that’s happened. I think that’s for the best. The road I was headed down wasn’t one that I need to be on right now, not after the year I’ve had. I’m still pulling myself back up, and the last thing I need to do is be drug back down.

  The knock on the door is so faint, I almost don’t hear it. Hayze appears behind the door. He’s leaning on the door frame, I hold it open wide, letting him step around me. He walks in and sits on my bed.

  “We, uh, haven’t really had the chance to talk since the other night,” he says. His right hand reaches to the back of his head, rubbing nervously.

  “Yeah,” I sigh. I flop down beside him, our thighs touch briefly and I slide away from the contact. That’s the last thing you need, I remind myself.

  “I could lie, I could give you excuses but I’m not,” he says. The spark in his eye is dim, and the dark lines under his eyes are back.

  I touch his forearm for support. “What’s bothering you, Hayze?”

  “Right now?” He asks, and I nod. “Right now I’m pissed at what you saw the other night. I knew what kind of people would be at that party and I took you anyway. And the way I acted… I know I’m an asshole, everyone around me knows that. But I don’t want you to see it, to witness it and I damn sure don’t ever want it directed at you.”

  “You were taking up for me,” I remind him. When the corner of his lips quirk into a smile, I release my hand from his arm. “Better?”

  “I would feel better if you’d let me take you out. Are you free tonight?”

  I know I shouldn’t, but the hopeful look in his eyes makes me second guess myself. He’s obviously been beating himself up over what happened. Maybe I was overreacting; I have a tendency to do that. There’s no harm in going out with him, he’s been a good friend to me.

  “I am,” I say. I tighten my ponytail and glance down at my clothes.

  “You look perfect,” He says as if he’s reading my mind. He smiles and stands from the bed.

  “You are sure? I mean I can put on Lea’s shorts or a dress.” I laugh as I point to the closet. The amusement vanishes from his face and his brows furrow together.

  “Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head.

  His hand grabs mine to pull me from the bed. He doesn’t take it back like I expect. Instead, he entwines our fingers as we walk from my room. As we leave the building I find the rain has subsided, the sunlight bathes the damp parking lot.

  The East Texas humidity fills my lungs, suffocating me, and threatening to take my life at any moment as I walk to his Mustang. With each step I take, I’m thankful I pulled my hair back this morning. Hayze opens the door for me and jogs over to his side. When his car comes to life he rolls the volume down, but I hum along to the tune.

  “I can’t think of a song you don’t know, Aerosmith, really? You’re like eighteen,” he teases me.

  “I like classic rock. I have an older brother. Well, two older brothers, but one doesn’t count,” I say and he smirks.

  “Is it just you three?” He asks.

  “Yeah, What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” I ask, not passing the opportunity to find out more about him.

  “Yeah,” sighs, “Two half-brothers, one half-sister, we share the same dad.”

  His blinker clicks, I look at the building in front of us. The taco house glows with neon lights, the heavy traffic of college students trek in and out of the building. He slides the car into a parking spot directly in front of the door.

  Hayze steps to the bar and places our order. “Do you have your ID?” He asks in a hushed whisper. I fish through my purse and locate the laminated, rectangular card Lea gave me. Hayze hands it to the bearded guy at the counter.

  I walk ahead of him and choose a table secluded in the back, Hayze slides the beers on the table and sits across from me. He takes a sip of the beer, and then runs his free hand over his face.

  “You look tired,” I say. I drag my finger along the rim of my beer, shoving the salt inside. I take another drink, hoping my efforts make the drink taste better.

  “I’m always tired.” He laughs once.

  “You said you lived here all your life? Do your parents still live here?”

  “My mom does,” he nods. He takes another swig of his beer and glances around the restaurant.

  “Are you close to your brothers and sister?”

  “My little brothers live in Colorado now, so I don’t get to see them much. I guess you could say I’m pretty close to my sister. I see her every day.” He smirks and looks at me, his eyes are amused.

  “Does she go to the university?” I take another sip of beer; the taste makes me grimace. I push it away from me and he laughs.

  “She does,” he says. His eyes are almost patronizing.

  “Well, do I know her?’ I urge, annoyed by his short, and clipped responses.

  “You do,” he nods.

  “Just freaking tell me!” I lean back in the booth and throw my hands up.

  “Freaking?” He doesn’t bother hiding his smile as he teases me.

  “Yeah, I’m trying to bring that word back.” I shrug my shoulders. “Don’t change the subject. Who’s your sister?” I point at him with narrow eyes.

  “Only if you promise to stop using that foul language around me,” he sighs. “Okay, fine. Lea’s my sister.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” I shriek with wide eyes. Everything makes sense now. They both used the excuse as being old school mates but the more I hung out with them I knew it was deeper. At first I feared they had something going on and I tried to distance myself from him, but she always shoved me to him. Encouraging us to hang out and it all makes sense now.

  “She doesn’t like telling people.” He shrugs his shoulders.

  “Why?” I ask, confused.

  The bearded guy stops in front of our table, reading our order off. I move my elbow as he slides a plate of tacos in front of me. When he walks off, I lean in closer to Hayze.

  “She doesn’t get along with our dad,” he says and unwraps the silverware. He pushes the forks away and sets the napkin in his lap.

  “Do you?”

  His eyes snap up and I know I asked the wrong thing. “What’s up with the third degree?” He asks and his voice is harsh.

  “Sorry,” I murmur.

  He takes a bite of a taco and I fix my eyes in front of me. Despite the complaints from my stomach, I don’t have an appetite. I force a taco down before I toss my napkin on the plate.

  “I was going to take you out but I’m tired as fuck. We can go back to my place and watch a movie, if you want?” I nod in agreement. He finishes his beer, then mine before we leave.

  With a simple crossover, we are at his apartment. I glance in the hall and notice Joel’s door is closed. When I don’t see a light glowing from the bottom, my shoulders sag with relief and I walk over to Hayze. I’m reluctant, but relaxed.

  “Here, pick something out,” Hayze says. He’s still quiet from the restaurant. I want to bring it up to apologize, but I don’t. Something about his dad set him off and I’m sure he doesn’t want me to know. I get that; I wouldn’t open my heart up to basically a stranger if they asked about my dad.

  He tosses the remote and collapses in the middle of the couch. I sit and tuck my legs underneath me. I stop on the first movie I see and turn to ask Hayze if he’s watched it, but I find him slouched on the couch with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open as he takes evened breaths. He looks boyish, so much younger, and without stress.

  When he shifts his head slides in my lap, I jerk my h
ands from my lap. I look around the room and let out a long, shaky breath. Moments skip by and he hasn’t budged. I watch his shoulders rise and fall with each breath. My left hand falls to my thigh. With a mind of its own, my right hand pushes his hair from his forehead. I run my finger through his sandy hair until he stirs. My phone dings with a text. Carefully, I dig my phone from my pocket. I find one new message from Lea asking where I am.

  I smirk and send: At your brothers

  She says: Which one?

  I roll my eyes. Shut up. Come get me.

  I slide my hands under his head, picking him up, slide off the couch and walk away. I pull a pen and piece of paper from my purse and jot down a quick note with my number. I leave out the fact that I touched his hair like a freaking creep. I slip the note on the bar and walk out of the apartment to wait for Lea.