Page 14 of Left In The Dark

“Oh, come on. What about dinner at the Chicken Shack tomorrow night? It’s on me. I won’t feel better until I at least make it up to you somehow.”

“Why now?”

Releasing my arm, he rubs at the back of his head again. “Because the cycle should be broken at some point, right? And better late than never?” His brows rise, lips lifting into a subtle smile.

I hesitate for a moment. “Fine. Dinner. I choose the restaurant and the time. You come without your friends.”

“Deal.” He sticks out his hand and I study it before shaking it. The honking behind us causes us both to jump, and I tap on the hood behind me, mouthing to my friends to give me a minute.

Blake is shoving his hands in his pockets, shivering under his thin jacket when I turn back to him. “Seven o’clock at El Maguey.”

“See you then,” he says sharply, his lips lifting higher in the corners.

“Uh‑huh.” I walk away first, getting in the passenger side, and Lydia’s face is full of confusion while Reese is gawking at me.

“What the hell was that about?” They parrot each other and I pinch between my brows.

“I dunno. Maybe the start of shit finally going the right way for once.”

“What’s that mean?” Lydia taps her fingers on the wheel.

“He wants to buy me a make‑up dinner.”

Reese makes a sound with his throat. “A what? You can’t seriously be thinking about going?”

I lift a shoulder, shifting in my seat. “Looks like I am. We do have to live in this town together, and I’d rather it be in peace than having to wonder whether someone will be waiting around the corner for me with a bucket of pig guts.” It’s also better than what I planned to do if things didn’t change.

What if I didn’t have to be the bad guy while they pleaded for me to stop with fear in their eyes? What if I didn’t have to be everything I hated in them, and the dark thoughts in my mind could remain there with the hope of eventually fading away?

“Just be careful,” Lydia exclaims, shifting out of park. Reese leans back in the seat with his arms crossed, not saying a word until we’re exiting the parking lot.

“I mean, maybe he really is sorry, and if so, maybe the idea you had about taking him in the parking lot could still happen.”

We both shoot him a side glance, turning our noses up in distaste. “I liked it better when you were quiet,” Lydia snips.

And we all erupt into laughter, bursting into song when Lydia turns on one of our old playlists. We laugh in between picking fun at each other’s off-pitch sounds when we start singing together to a song, and none of us bring up Blake again for the rest of the night.

Three

Logan

Blake beats me to the restaurant, already inside when I enter. Standing up from his chair in the far right corner, he waves me over, and I approach the table with slow, cautious steps. No one pops out of hiding and there’s nothing waiting for me on my chair when I sit down. Blake hasn’t gotten any drinks yet, so I don’t have to wonder if he slipped something like MiraLAX in mine.

“Am I late or something?” I shift in my chair, shuffling the menu around. “You weren’t waiting here too long, were you?” I wouldn’t be too upset or feel the least bit bad if he was.

Waving a hand at me, he loosens the purple cashmere scarf around his neck. This modeling career of his must really be taking off, or maybe one of his many sugar daddies purchased it for him. My stomach knots when I picture my dad’s face. Why am I here again? Because I’m trying hard to remain the better person in all this.

“You’re right on time. I’m the one who got here super early, not wanting to run into traffic on the way back from a meet and greet with this model agency.”

“I see. How’d it go?”

“Good.” He twists the napkin in front of him. “At least I think it did. They seemed to like me and they said I was exactly what they were looking for. I’ll know more tomorrow hopefully.”

“That’s great,” I say, searching for a waiter or waitress. “Has anyone come by to take your drink order yet?”

“Yeah but I asked her to come back when you got here since I didn’t think you’d want a carton of chocolate milk and that’s the only thing I ever remember seeing you drink from the cafeteria.”

I snort, shoulders relaxing. Is this what it’s like to have casual talk with your bully? “I actually wouldn’t mind some of that cafeteria chocolate milk right about now. That stuff used to be the shit.”