Chapter Two
Elly
I woke up to the buzzing of my phone. I groggily reached over to find it on my nightstand and my hand bumped into the picture of my boyfriend…my dead boyfriend. I was tired of him judging me. He died because he had no self-control. I’d spent months making that my problem. I grabbed the picture and slammed it down flat. Then I finally grabbed of the phone. It was a text from Tristan. It said that he was thinking about scoring. I sat up and text him my address. Then I sat the phone down and wiped the sleep out of my eyes.
Realizing that I was hungry and Tristan might be too when he got there, I decided to cook some breakfast before he came over. I got up and went into the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and pulled my hair back into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. I had on a t-shirt and panties, but it was hot in the apartment; Susie hadn’t turned off the heat before she left for work. I turned it down. I’d get dressed before Tristan got there.
I went out to the kitchen and pulled out the stuff to make pancakes. While I was mixing the batter, my phone rang. I was afraid for a second that Tristan had changed his mind and he’d decided on getting high instead. I had worried for no reason though: it was my mom.
“Hi, Mom,” I answered as I poured the batter by spoonful’s onto the griddle.
“Hi, Sweetheart, how are you?”
I was holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. “I’m good. I was just making breakfast. I have chorus later this morning.”
“Mm, what are you making?” she asked.
“Pancakes and eggs,” I said.
“That sounds good. Is Susie having breakfast with you?”
“No, my friend…” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“Your friend who?”
“A guy that I’m sort of seeing is coming over….”
“You’re seeing someone? That’s great, honey. Your father and I have been so worried about you since…well, anyways, you’re a young, beautiful girl and I’m glad you’re getting back out there.”
“Thanks, Mom. It’s just dating for now…” I still had guilt over the worry I put them through when my boyfriend died and I got into drugs.
“You’re making breakfast for him. He didn’t spend the night, did he?” she went on to say.
I rolled my eyes. I knew she worried, but she also still thought I was twelve sometimes. “No, Mom. He’s not even here yet.”
“I’d like to meet him. Your father and I are coming out for your concert.” I could hear the curiosity in her voice.
“No, Mom. We’re really not there yet. It would probably scare him off. We’ve barely started dating.” I changed the subject by asking her if she’d been watching the show.
“We watch it religiously. I think Tristan’s going to win. Your father was sure that blonde girl…Brooke? I think that was her name. He was sure she was going to win. He thinks she must have been sick or something that last performance because she did so poorly. I wondered if maybe it was the sound system or something. Tristan seemed to have a bad time that same night.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a lot of pressure for them,” I told her. “It’s actually pretty grueling work to have to be on that much. Tell Daddy that I heard Brooke already got offered a contract, so don’t feel too bad for her.”
“What about you, honey? They don’t work you too hard, do they? You still have time for your school work and yourself without having to stress too much? I don’t want you making yourself sick.” Oh, mom.
“Yeah, I’m doing fine. I like the job a lot. Everything else is good, too. I’ve been doing well in all of my classes. I’m healthy as a horse.”
“Did you meet your new boy at school?” I thought it was hilarious how she kept referring to him as a boy. Tristan would love that. I couldn’t tell her who he was though…at least not yet. She would worry herself sick.
“No, Mom, I met him through work,” I told her. It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“How old is he?” Oh, mother!
“He’s twenty-eight.”
“Twenty-eight? He’s quite a bit older than you…” I had known that was coming.
“It’s only six years, Mom. Please don’t worry; I’m only dating him for now anyways, barely.”
“Okay,” she said, but she didn’t sound like she wasn’t going to worry.
“What day are you and Daddy going to be here for the show?”
“Since it’s on a Friday, we thought we’d come on Thursday and stay through the weekend. Don’t worry though; we’ve already made hotel reservations. We won’t pile in on you and Susie. Your father and I can’t wait to hear you sing in the concert. Oh! Why don’t you invite your new boy to the show? He can hear your angel voice and we can meet him.” There was a knock on my door. Tristan must have left his house as soon as he texted me. He’d gotten there really fast.
“Oh! Someone’s knocking on the door, Mom…”
I pulled it open and Tristan looked me up and down with a raised eyebrow. I still had my mother on the line when he said, “Do you always answer the door in your underwear?”
“Hey, Mom, I have to go.”
“Is everything okay?” I was pretty sure she heard his comment. She was getting better at practicing her self-control.
I laughed, “Everything is fine, Mom. Please stop worrying. I love you. Kiss Daddy for me.”
“We love you, too.”
I disconnected the call and said, “Come on in before my neighbors see me.”
He stepped in with a grin and said, “I figured since you answered the door that way, they’d seen it all before.”
I had to take him by the arm and physically pull him in. I think he was hoping someone would see me, maybe as payback for the night he ran naked after me. Once I had him inside I said, “I got a phone call and didn’t realize how much time was passing. I planned on getting dressed…”
“I’m not complaining,” he said. He stepped forward and grabbing my ass with both hands, he pulled me against his chest. “It makes you look like you’re ready to fuck. Since I’m always ready…that’s a good thing.”
I pushed back from him and said, “No, Tristan! I have a class soon. I thought you needed to talk. I made breakfast.”
He looked pissed. That was just fine. How dare he tell me he was in trouble just to get over here and get me in bed? Being his sex toy was getting a little old.
“Okay then, let’s eat,” he said. I should have known he didn’t want to talk.
I fixed him a plate and then told him I’d be right back. I went in the bedroom and pulled on my jeans. When I went back out to the kitchen, he looked me up and down again and rolled his eyes. Bastard really did think he was going to come over here and get a piece of ass under the guise of needing to talk.
I fixed my own plate and sat down. After several minutes of silence I said, “So what’s going on?”
He shrugged and said, “Nothing, really.”
“I thought you wanted to…”
“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said, cutting me off.
Then don’t fucking text me and say you do. I thought it, but I didn’t say it out loud. I didn’t want to argue with him.
The rest of our breakfast was basically silent. When he finished eating he got up and went over to the sink and rinsed off his plate. I found that a little bit amusing, considering the state his apartment was always in.
“Thanks,” I told him, doing the same with mine. “I don’t want to be rude, but if you’re really fine, I have to get to my chorus class. We have a concert coming up.”
“You sing?” he asked me.
“In a group,” I said.
“Are you any good?” he asked.
“I’m okay. Anyways, I need to get there so…”
“I’ll take you,” he said, quickly.
“No, it’s okay. I can drive.”
“I’m sure you can,” he said. “Let me take you. Don’t you want a ride on the bike?”
“Really, it’s okay….”
“Fine!” he looked pissed again. His moods were hard to keep up with.
“Okay, don’t get mad. I just didn’t want to put you out. If it’s not an inconvenience, I’ll take a ride.”
“Good,” he said.
“I’m going to get ready. You can have a seat in the living room.”
“Okay,” he said. He stayed in the kitchen, though, and after I got ready and came back out, I was shocked to see that he had cleaned it up.
“Wow! Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugged again and said, “Are you ready?”
He was likely the most frustrating man on earth. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
On the way to the school, I held onto him for dear life. He drove like a maniac, weaving in and out of traffic. He’d given me the helmet, but it seemed small in comparison to what the asphalt or a two-ton car or truck might do to me. I breathed a sigh of relief when he pulled into the front lot of the university.
“Is this lot close enough?” he asked. “I can drive you around if you want.”
“No!” I realized I’d answered too quickly and I said, “No, thank you. This is fine.” He gave me a quick peck on the lips and I could feel him watching me all the way to the door. As I headed down the hall towards the music room I thought about my mother telling me to invite him to the concert and laughed. It wasn’t the sort of thing Tristan and I did together.