Goodbyes and Second Chances (The Bleu Series Book 1) (8 page)

I’m about to
ignore the persistent visitor completely when my tired mind snaps into focus at
the thought of it being one certain person. I sit up and ease the window above
my bed open, but he has disappeared already. I’m disappointed until I spot him
on his front steps with his guitar in his lap. We watch each other for a few
beats before he starts strumming the melody to his promise of a song.

He plays it
through several times as I watch on, his eyes never leaving mine. I’m beginning
to wonder if this song is conveying a promise between just Dillon and me. Maybe
it’s been a promise for a while and I’m only beginning to see its possibility
tonight. I watch him until my eyes get too heavy to keep open. He nods his head
in a gesture that says for me to lie down. I do, and continue to be serenaded
until I drift off to sleep. I fight sleep as long as I can, because I know
tomorrow the spell will be broken, and things will never be the same again.

Chapter
Five

It’s been a few weeks since the kiss.
We’ve decided to pretend it didn’t happen. Or Dillon has decided and I’ve had
no choice but to go along with it. Okay, I guess, but now there’s an
awkwardness between us. I knew it was a mistake. I just want my best friend
back and things the way they were. Today is going to be totally weird. It’s
Dillon’s sixteenth birthday. The guys are planning a celebration of sorts and
are making me help out. That would be fine, except Max is trying to hook Dillon
up with his cousin, Clare or Clara, or something like that. Nothing against
her, but I’d rather not have to witness it. Since the kiss, Dillon has avoided
me as well as other girls. It’s like I broke him of it somehow. I guess I’m
that lousy of a kisser.

The morning
after the kiss, everyone met up to help Aunt Evie scrub the small campground
cabins down for the seasonal closing. That way, except for dusting and fresh
linens, they would be ready for spring. The entire gang has graciously helped
Aunt Evie out any time the opportunity presents itself since last spring. I
know she knows we were all in on it, so she accepts the help without fuss. It
really irked me when Dillon avoided me like the plague that day, always working
on another cabin away from the one I worked on. I had begun to worry that he
really thought I had some sort of rash as he had declared at the party. But I
thought it was best to let it go and not bug him about his odd behavior. I know
Dillon. He will come around eventually.

Just last week,
Dillon and the twins were asked to perform with these two other guys at a free
concert in the park. A guy named Trace Leigh, who plays the keyboard as well as
sings, and Logan Carter, who plays a mean bass guitar, just split with a band
they had played with for a few years. This concert was sort of a trial to see
if the guys mesh. They were so excited. We all went to support them, but Dillon
refused to ride with me. He actually asked his mom to drop him off and pick him
up. That was a dead giveaway. What almost sixteen-year-old boy wants his mom
escorting him around? Especially in front of these new dudes.

The weirdest
part is that even though he has gone to weird measures to avoid me during the
day, Dillon has not missed a night of serenading me with his promise of a song.
Why do I know he is playing to me? I tested it to be sure. I’ve been waiting
all kinds of late hours before I ease my window open. Never has the song begun
until then. A few nights I’ve dozed off while waiting out a time to open my
window, and he has waked me by the pelting of pebbles on my window until I open
it and listen. I don’t get what’s going on, and it’s so blame frustrating. I’m
getting ticked off just thinking about it. Maybe it’s some little crush and he
doesn’t know how to deal with it. I guess only time will figure it out.

“Get the lead
out, Jillian,” Kyle says as we work on finishing up the last garbage run for
the day. “You drag your heels any slower and we gonna miss the party.” He
slings another bag in the small truck’s bed before hopping back in the cramped
cab. I slowly plop my bag into the bed and climb back in as well. I’m the only
one who doesn’t look ridiculous driving the tiny truck. Kyle and the other boys
have to hunch down, but their heads still touch the ceiling.

I slip the truck
into first gear and ease up to the next batch of trash bags. “What’s the big
rush? All we’re doing is meeting at the game room and giving him a stupid
out-of-date deli cake,” I say.

Kyle cuts his
green impatient eyes at me. “It’s Dillon’s flipping birthday. We gonna
celebrate it the best we can.” He shakes his head at my uncaring attitude.
“You’ve both been acting totally weird lately, like an old married couple who’s
bickering. You need to knock it off.”

“What?” I slam
the brakes and pull up the emergency brake handle so I can climb out for the
last of the trash.

Kyle grabs my
arm. “You heard me. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you
gotta get over it. We’re all he has, Jewels. Cora has to work a double at the
diner today, so we are
all
he has.”
Kyle very rarely calls me by the nickname Dillon has given me, so I know I need
to listen. My brother is right, of course. Dillon has nobody but us, so it’s
time I get over whatever it was that happened and remember what’s important.

We finish
dumping the trash in the dumpster and head home quickly to wash. By the time I
emerge from the shower, I’ve resolved to show Dillon a great birthday. I fish
out a few twenties I had stashed for emergencies and send Kyle and
Mave
off on the task of grabbing up pizzas to go along with
the cake.

While they are
gone, I search through my clothes to find something nice. It’s a chilly night
in this early November, but we are holding the party in the game room at the
campground. It’s closed for the season, so it’s all ours. It looks like a
slightly bigger version of the cedar cabins and is a big draw to campers,
although it’s in severe need of upgrading. Since we won’t be outside in the
cold, I decide to show Dillon and his date how nice I can look. I settle for a
black leather miniskirt Leona gave me a while back, due to it being a bit big
on her tiny frame. I’m about a size thicker than her, so it fits me like a
glove. I rummage around until I find my deep-purple top with long sleeves. The
neck is super wide, so it hangs off one shoulder, punk rock style, the way I
like it. I finish the look with ankle boots and several studded belts. I apply
minimal makeup and fluff my long wavy hair a bit before spritzing on some of
the expensive perfume I lucked into from condo cleaning.

I head to the
door, but pause. I need to give Dillon a gift. Not just any gift, but something
as special and unique as he is. I head back to my stash of condo freebies and
rummage around the colognes and shirts and guy shades, but nothing seems to fit
the bill. I’m trying to come up with something when my eyes land on my journal.
I have a few songs I’ve written since the kiss and have been too big of a
coward to share them with him. Maybe this will be a good way to mend our little
split. He is always begging me for more songs. I grab a pair of scissors and
neatly free the songs from my journal. I roll them up in a tube and tie it with
a leather cord that has a cross on it. It’s one of my favorite bracelets, and I
think it makes for the proper bow.

I’ve brought
along lots of my favorite music, and it’s booming through the speakers of the
game room when Dillon walks in grinning, exposing those dimples under his
stubble. He’s wearing an Oasis Rock Tour T-shirt with worn black jeans, and his
leather jacket and boots. His hair is in disarray, the blue streak a bit more
vibrant than the last time I saw him. Looks like someone has been to the beauty
shop. The guy already looks like a rock legend, and I’m quite sure he will be
one day. I’d bet on it. He meets my gaze with his own before traveling the
length of me and back. When he meets my eyes again, I detect them filled with
remorse. The look of me seems to make him uneasy, so he sidesteps and heads
over to the guys. Great. The birthday hasn’t lessened the awkwardness in the
least. Kyle hands him a soda and they all tear into the pizza. I’ve lost my
appetite so I keep my distance. I hop up on top of the bar and sip on a soda
while trying not to sulk. I’m ready to be over our weirdness, but I guess he is
not.

Max strolls
through the door a little bit later, with a tall bleached blonde in tow, and
walks over to give Dillon a manly slap on the shoulder, at which Dillon
actually winces. I catch that maybe something isn’t just right with his upper
back, but he moves on so quickly that the boys don’t catch on. I smirk though,
because I did. There’s not much this guy can get past me, and I’m pretty sure
it is the same the other way around as well.

“What in the
world has Max dragged along with him?” Leona asks beside me. She is swinging
her long dangly legs to the beat of the music while she picks the pepperonis
off her slice of pizza.

I swipe the
discarded pepperonis and shrug as I try unsuccessfully to look away. I keep
trying to avert my gaze, but find myself right back to staring at him and his
company. “I think she’s Dillon’s birthday gift.” This causes Leona to laugh and
I join in. This is so Max, to bring a girl as Dillon’s gift.

An hour later,
the place is lively with a couple dozen teenagers dancing around or playing
pool. This is the only part of the year we are allowed to hang out here, so
everyone seems to be having a blast with this opportunity. I catch Dillon
watching me every so often tonight as I agree to a few dances with Trace Leigh.
Trace is nearly a Kurt Cobain lookalike, minus the worn-out features. He has
bright blue eyes and shoulder-length pale blond hair that seems to float around
his face, it’s so light. He is animated and full of energy. I actually enjoy
this dude’s company. I’m not much for making new friends, so this pleasantly
surprises me. He is so excited that Dillon let him and Logan join the band.
He’s been rambling on about all of their big plans. He’s from a nearby suburb,
so he’s sort of in between our side and the other
side of the lake, socially speaking.

Blondie has been
glued to Dillon since she arrived. He’s only danced a few songs with her,
choosing to play pool or cards with the guys instead. No matter, each time I
look up over Trace’s shoulder, Dillon’s eyes are on me. He doesn’t seem too
pleased, either.
Well
,
the feeling is mutual
. I try to pay him
no mind, but it’s like we have always been two magnets drawn to the other. His
message tonight, through the staring and stern set of his handsome face, is
telling me to walk away from Trace. And my message back, through a few sharp
glares, is that he has no room to tell me what to do. He finally seems to have
all he can take of me hanging out with Trace and beckons the dude to join them
in a game of Spades. So that is the end of my dance partner for the night,
because you can never just play one game of Spades. That card game is something
addictive.

Dillon
eventually opens his few gifts, as they finally tire of Spades after a half
dozen games. Kyle gave him a bottle of cologne, which he swiped from my condo
freebies, that happens to be Dillon’s brand of choice. Leona gave him a new
guitar pick with
Bleu Streak
etched
on it. They are pretty cool gifts, and he seems thrilled by them. The twins are
the poorest of the crowd. No one ever expects a gift from them, hence Max
bringing a girl. I don’t give him my gift now. I decide I will wait until
later. If he doesn’t straighten up, I may not give it to him, period. Of course
we eat the old cake that turns out to be surprisingly moist. I guess the date
really doesn’t have to dictate the freshness every time.

We sing “Happy
Birthday” at exactly one minute before midnight and continue to sing one minute
past. It’s a weird thing we started years ago, before we even hit the teenage
years. We celebrate each other’s birthday to the very last minute of the day.
We want to remind our friend how important he is to us, since most of this
world seems to not care.

I watch as
Blondie tries to give Dillon a birthday kiss, but he kindly turns his head and
receives it on his cheek. She grabs hold of his right shoulder to leverage
another kiss, but he winces under her arm. He shrugs her off and this seems to
offend her. Poor girl. Rejection from this guy is a pretty tough pill to
swallow. I watch as he rotates his arm around a bit when he thinks no one is
watching. But as I’ve said earlier, I am a professional people watcher,
especially when it comes to Dillon Bleu. I wonder what’s going on with him.

He finally
manages to untwine himself from her, and his eyes immediately search for me. He
looks at me nervously, so I throw him off by winking at him. Then Leona and I
set out in sync with kissy noises, making him roll his eyes. We are teenagers.
We have the right to act immature. It feels good to be goofy. It’s definitely
better than crying over it.

I know the party
will probably wear on for a few more hours, so I slip out the side door and
head home. Once I’m in my small room, I look down at my outfit one more time
before peeling it off and swapping into my usual oversized T-shirt and
hole-riddled sweatpants. I seemed to have dressed up for nothing.

I stretch out on
my bed and try to decide if I’m going to wait up or just go on to sleep. I
seriously doubt he will be serenading me tonight. Sleep wins out as I drift off
quickly.

Something wakes
me abruptly, and I’m not really sure what it was. I lay in the dark and wait
for it again. I almost come unglued when a leg swings through my window.

“
Shh
… It’s just me, Jewels,” Dillon says
to hush me. He lands on top of me, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“You scared me
to death,” I whisper. I try to push him off but he just lays here, staring down
at me. His soft hair is tickling my face, he’s so close, and his breaths are
combined with my own. We stay this way for a while, neither one of us wanting
to move. Having him close, after the recent ignoring spell, feels good.

This shouldn’t
have shocked me, but I was dead asleep. Someone crawling through my window
isn’t new. I’ve had more than one visitor fall into my room at one point or the
other, needing something. I guess it’s because I’m the oldest is why everyone
comes to me.