Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Seventeen years old

“Come on, Russell, tell me where she’s at?” It was the third day in a row I had come to Hayward’s family’s auto shop hoping that Russell would tell me where I could find Freya. I was still sporting the black eye he gave me Monday after school, and I didn’t care because I deserved it. I thought I ought to let Freya cool down before I attempted to talk to her again since it didn’t go so well in the bathroom. Just thinking about it made me cringe.

On Tuesday when she didn’t show up to school, I went to her home, and I sat there for a good two hours before I got desperate when no one answered the door. Then I went straight to Russell’s job until he gave me her phone number. But no one answered when I called. Here I was again, glaring at him while he worked, and I wasn’t going anywhere until I got a response .

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with Nikki?” he replied while bent over the hood of his truck.

“For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you she isn’t my girlfriend? She told people we were together, and I never said otherwise; that was my mistake. If you must know, yesterday morning, I told her she wasn’t my girlfriend. I didn’t know where she got that ludicrous idea from. You can even ask Emma; she saw the whole thing go down.”

I knew how irrational it was. Freya was just another girl—but that was a lie. She wasn’t just any other girl. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I didn’t know how I knew it, but she was the kind ofgirl who defined your whole life. The type ofgirl you’d look back on when you were reminiscing the past, and you’d be happy that she was a part of it.

“Jesus, Rusty, throw Max a bone already. I hate to see him look so desperate.” If my father could hear Mr. Hayward, he would lose his shit. I was a Dunnett, and we didn’t beg. We took. That kind of mentality was how my mother coped with my brother’s man-whoring. According to my mother, he was just sowing his wild oats. Prescott was just a dick. Usually, I would defend him to whatever end because he was my brother, but I heard what he told Freya, and for the first time it made me hate him. Just the thought of him with her made my blood boil. Still, I waited patiently for Russell as he wiped his hands clean with a rag then walked to me,not happy, but I saw the gleam in his eyes when he saw my black eye.

“Freya and her grandfather go camping every once in a while. After what happened on Monday, Eugene took her camping for a few days. She’ll be back on Saturday.”

I couldn’t help the smile that broke across my face. I knew what to do to get her to forgive me.

“Thank you, man,” I said as I rushed to my car.

“Yeah well, I ain‘t apologizing for that eye,”he yelled.

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

My good moodevaporated as soon as I got home and saw that my brother had friends over—Nikki amongst them. I nodded at them but walked straight into my room. I wasn’t up for socializing. I was mad at both of my siblings, and if my parents caught wind of it, Father would say something along the lines of “You can’t be mad at your family for that girl.” Making Freya sound diseased or something.

When I came out of the shower, towel wrapped around my hips, Nikki was lying in my bed.

“Get out.” My clipped tone left no room for argument.

“Aw, baby, you can’t still be mad at me?” She’d dropped her tone to a seductive purr, but instead of turning me on, it annoyed the hell out of me.

“I had already told you, Nikki, that I’m not interested in you like that. Now could you please get out of my room?” I was a polite person, but she was testing me.

“Max, everyone is interested in me like that.” She leaned forward on her hands and knees, giving me a clear view of her tits, but again, I felt nothing.

“Nikki, I said get out of my fucking room. I don’t want to date you, I don’t want to be your boyfriend, and I have no interest in fucking you.” She flinched at my tone. Nikki hadn’t expected me to talk to her that way. This didn’t surprise me; I was the nice one, it was true, but I also wasn’t a pushover.

“All for that freshman whore.” She scoffed and walked out of my room before I could tell her off for calling Freya a whore.

Freya

Camping was officially over. The green sign said Sunny Pines was twenty-six miles out. In twenty-six miles, I would be back to my own personal hell. If homeschooling were an option, I would have done it in a heartbeat, but Grandpa didn’t have the resources, and I wasn’t a coward.

I loved Aunt Pauletta and Uncle Rob, but they were a handful and a little nutty. Every year we went down to the Dells, where they owned a cabin, and stayed with them for a few days. After seeing my scratched face and my refusal to speak about it, Grandpa made the arrangements for us to go for a quick visit. Since it wasn’t warm enough for a dip in the lake, and nowhere near cold enough for sledding, I mostly sat in the hot tub thinking of all the ways my life sucked, but how I wouldn’t change a thing because my grandpa was the best. As long as I had him, things weren’t so bad.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

Grandpa’s voice made me look up, and I had to agree I’d be damned. Damnedindeed .

Our place looked like the set of a Disney movie—that’s if the princess lived in a trailer. There were flowers all around our home. There was even a little path created with vases full of pink roses. If that wasn’t shocking enough, the sight of Maximilian Dunnett arranging another vase full of flowers was enough to render both my grandpa and me speechless.

“I’ll get rid of him.” I rushed out of the car before Grandpa could. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened on Monday, then coming home to our place looking like a funeral home with all the flowers. I wasn’t a huge fan of flowers. They were pretty, but it wasn’t my style. I’m not saying the sentiment wasn’t cute, but it wasn’t me.

“What are you doing here?” I walked up to Max, who was looking sheepishly at me, and too bad for him, I was still so mad that I didn’t find him cute.

Not one bit.

Not at all.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and I had to fight a smile.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk for a second?”

I looked around, trying not to cringe. “What do you think, just because you have money to redecorate my place, I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Look, Freya, I know you’re mad at me and you probably hate me, but I swear Nikki isn’t anything to me. She was never my girlfriend.”

I kept looking at all the arrangements he had set up just so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“How much allowance do you get?” I dubiously asked. He really did a number on my place. It smelled like Mrs. Carson’s garden, and I hated going to her garden. I turned to look at Max. His face was red with embarrassment, and then I turned to look at my grandpa who was making himself busy getting our stuff from the trunk.

We didn’t even take much with us.

“I might have cleared Mrs. Riordan’s shelves.” Great, now I felt a little bad about robbing other people from getting their flower fix.

“They are lovely … thank you,” I lied, hopping it sounded sincere.

“Freya, I like you… I more than like you, and I would hate for things to end before they even begin, so would it be possible for me to have another shot?”

I saw my grandpa walking toward us, having decided he had given us enough time. “Can we talk tomorrow? I’m tired from the drive.”

Max’s face fell for a second, but he composed himself quickly.

“Bye, Freya.” He waved, walking to his car.

Dammit, I cursed myself. I tried being mad and unaffected, but I couldn’t do it. No one had ever done anything this nice for me or cared enough to apologize sincerely. It meant more than he knew—even if I hated flowers.

“Maximilian,” I shouted after him. He turned around slowly, cautiously waiting for what I would say. “I like you too,” I admitted.

When a goofy smile broke across his handsome face, I could tell it made him happy because he missed a step and almost tripped.

My grandpa stood by my side as we watched him drive away. “What are you going to do with all the flowers?”

“I’ll think of something,” I responded with a silly smile on my face.

The next morning, I called Rusty bright and early. He was a little grumpy that I woke him before ten in the morning, but I couldn’t help it. I barely got any sleep last night, and it wasn’t just because I was excited to see Max. I also couldn’t sleep because of all those damn flowers. When Rusty made it over, he helped me put all the flowers in Bow’s bed.

“I’m keeping three sets of the dozen roses. There are a few girls who are still mad at me.”

I turned to glare at Rusty. The bad thing about being best friends with a guy who was a player was that you constantly felt like you were violating the girl code or something, but since I had no girlfriends, I had a guilt-free conscience.

“You know, I bet we can sell them back to Mrs. Riordan. We’ll go fifty-fifty,” he added.

“But they are my flowers.”

“It’s my truck.”

“Just help me hand them out,” I retorted as we got at the assisted living apartments. Just because I didn’t like flowers, didn’t mean it wouldn’t make other people happy, and they would appreciate them more than I ever would.

It was late by the time Rusty and I got done delivering flowers. Between chatting up the elderly and eating baked goods, I lost track of time. Shit. I had Rust floor it home, not knowing what time Max would call. I didn’t have a cell phone, and Grandpa never answered the house phone.

“ Oh crap ,” I muttered when we pulled up to my house and found Max sitting on the hood of his car looking at the flowerless space. Rusty left with a nod in Max’s direction while I slowly made my way to him.

“Hey,” I said, not knowing how to start this conversation.

“Were those the flowers I got you in the dash of Russell’s car?”

“They were.” I could tell he didn’t like my answer. His eyes flashed with pain, but he quickly masked it. He was a nice guy, and he wouldn’t go off on me, that much I was sure of.

“I should get going; it’s getting late. I’ll see you around, Freya.”

“I was almost five when my mom died,” I said as he walked to his car, my voice halting him. "I didn’t understand what was happening or why my grandma and my grandpa were crying. I sat between both of them in the funeral home, my mother in a casket a few feet away from me. ‘ She’s sleeping with the angels,’ my grandmother told me. She always slept with me at night, except on her last night, and I figured she liked sleeping with the angels more than she did with me, because why else would she leave me, right? I was sitting between my grandparents, and I couldn’t look at where my mother was sleeping because it hurt to know she preferred to sleep with the angels more than with me. Her daughter. I don’t remember much, but I remember the pretty flowers all around her. I had never seen so many flowers at once… and I never wanted to again.”

My voice was breaking. I hated to show weakness, especially in front of someone who had it all.

“I don’t like flowers. They remind me of my mother’s funeral.”

“Shit… I’m sorry, Freya.” Max took a step toward me.

“That being said, it doesn’t mean I didn’t think what you did was sweet.” I gave him a small smile to put him at ease, but I had a feeling he was beating himself up over it. I held my hand out to him, a part of me scared he wouldn’t take it. I led us to his car to make it harder for my grandpa to spy on us. We both sat on the hood and looked at the stars, not talking much, but our hands remained entwined the whole time. It felt nice having him hold my hand; it was better than talking, because words wouldn’t do justice to the strength and peace I found in his warmth.

For a moment, I wasn’t alone anymore.

“I’ll have you know that your flowers made all the ladies over at the nursing home happy.” Max made one of those manly chuckles, and I felt my stomach dip at the sound. “Oh, and you probably helped Rusty get three girlfriends.”

“Not to sound presumptuous, but did I get myself a girlfriend?” he asked teasingly, causing my heart to almost stop beating.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I smiled. “You want me to be your girlfriend?” My voice was hesitant. I was scared I might have heard him wrong. Abruptly, Max jumped off the car, making my heart sink for a second. He faced me and put both of his hands on my cheeks, making me look into his green eyes.

“I wouldn’t have bought all the flowers in town just for anyone,” he whispered. “Say yes, Freya.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Max’s face broke into a grin before he gave me a kiss full of promise and hope.