Fairytale Remix: Blayze & Ash by Jessica Sorensen

Author:Jessica Sorensen [Sorensen, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 4

I spend the rest of the week cooking and cleaning while my dad buries himself in his new job as a craftsman. My sister is beyond gone in Lavish Land, spending every waking hour with Aldman, who showers her with gifts.

When I’m at the record store, I hang out a lot with Zeke, getting tarot card readings and listening to stories of his family, his past, particularly high school. He was teased a lot by Ash and his friends, and part of me wants to stay away from Ash because of it. But I believe that sometimes people deserve a second chance. So, when I’m not chilling with Zeke, I spend time sorting through records with Ash and getting to know him.

I learn in front of section B that, when his mom died, he cried for three days straight then never cried again.

“My father caught me and chewed me out for being so weak,” he explains. “Please don’t ever tell anyone I cried.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” I nudge him in the shoulder. “And thanks for saying please.”

He actually laughs at that, and it makes me happy for some crazy reason.

It’s in front of section E that I discover he does, in fact, get lonely in his big house.

“I’ll admit,” he says, like I’m pulling teeth, “that sometimes I wish I had someone there to share the space with.”

“You could always get a dog,” I tease. “Or a cat. You kind of seem like a cat person.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Only if it’s a badass, flashy cat like a tiger.”

I roll my eyes at him then laugh when he playfully pinches my side.

I laugh a lot when I’m with him and realize that I haven’t laughed very much since my mom died.

“I really miss her,” I admit one day in front of section A. “I even cry sometimes, but only when I’m not around my dad; otherwise, he’ll fall apart.”

“Is that why you were crying in the booth that day?” he asks, wandering toward section U with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

I nod, trailing after him. “Listening to music helps me let it out.”

“I’m sorry you were hurting that day.” He reaches out and brushes his finger across my cheek before focusing on the records. My cheek scalds where he touched me. “When I cried for those three days, I blasted music so loudly the neighbors called the police. Told them I was disturbing them.”

“Did they know you were mourning your mom?”

“Sure, but they didn’t care. It’s not like I’m a nice guy everyone cares about.”

“You could be, though. You have potential, anyway … if you could get past your ego.”

“That’ll never happen.”

“You never know. The sky could fall. Hell could freeze over. Ash could become a caring, compassionate person.”

“You’re caring and compassionate enough for the both of us,” he says, like we’re a couple.

I’m unsure how I feel about that. At least, that’s what I tell myself, but the insane butterflies come alive inside my stomach again.

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