Cocaine Hearts

Chapter 8

We all woke up in the late afternoon on Sunday, feeling the need to sleep off the wild weekend of partying. As we stirred from our tents, people started packing up their belongings and making their way back to their vehicles. They took a moment to express their gratitude for the invitation before leaving. Ashley, Zeke, Brandon, and I remained behind to clean up and ensure the fires were properly extinguished.

The atmosphere between Brandon and me felt slightly awkward. We woke up entangled in each other's arms, but the closeness didn't last long. I couldn't help but wonder if everything we had felt the previous night was merely a result of the drugs. I had done mushrooms with Dallas numerous times, yet I had never experienced the same emotions. Something about Brandon felt different, but today, we had barely exchanged more than a few words. I contemplated confronting him about it, but after a brief discussion with Ashley, I decided against it.

"Let him come to you," she advised. "Zeke and I will give you a ride home."

I nodded and continued dismantling our tent with Ashley, while the boys took down Zeke's tent.

"So, did you guys... you know?" Ashley asked mischievously.

"We did not," I replied politely. "Honestly, it's probably for the best. We wouldn't have worked out."

"Yeah, he's not exactly your type," she agreed, as we loaded the remaining tent and our belongings into Zeke's truck bed.

During the ride home, Ashley sat in the middle of Zeke and me. The car journey was mostly quiet, without even background music, until Zeke casually mentioned, "Brandon was asking about you."

My eyes widened with shock. "What did he say?"

Zeke shrugged as he turned onto my street. "Just that he really likes you and doesn't want to mess it up."

"What did you say?" I asked, still in disbelief.

"I told him not to worry about it, that you're mean and will mess it up first," he joked, and Ashley playfully hit his arm.

"Nah, I'm just kidding. I told him he should talk to you about it. So if he messages you, you'll know why."

"Well, thanks for the heads up," I responded nonchalantly. Brandon actually likes me?! Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I hopped out of the truck, grabbed my bag, and waved goodbye to Zeke and Ashley. I watched their car drive off before walking into my house, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation.

As I step through the threshold of the front door, I am greeted by the piercing barrage of my mother's accusatory screams. The shock reverberates through me, leaving me momentarily speechless. "Where the f**k have you been, Miya?!" she hollers, her voice filled with a potent mix of anger and frustration.

Caught off guard by her explosive reaction, I manage to gather my wits and respond, my voice tinged with disbelief, "Mom, what the f**k? I told you I would be at Ashley's all weekend."

Her eyes narrow as she challenges my words, "Well, you weren't. Were you?"

My eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. "Of course I was! Why would you even ask that?" I retort, my eyes rolling involuntarily.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me, young lady!" she snaps back. "And don't you dare f*****g lie to me, Miya. Ashley's mom called me, and they were under the impression you girls were here all weekend. And Martin and I haven't seen either of you all weekend, so where the f**k were you?"

Frustration bubbles within me, my blood simmering with anger. "We were just out. Hanging out," I reply curtly, snatching my bag from the floor and making my way past my mother, determined to retreat to the sanctuary of my room.

Her voice follows me down the hallway, filled with biting sarcasm. "Oh, you were just 'hanging out'?" she scoffs. "Bullshit. Where the f**k were you all weekend, Miya?" Her volume escalates, the walls vibrating with her increasing fury.

My temper flares, the heat of my rage threatening to consume me. I abruptly turn around, my face inches away from hers as I fiercely declare, "I don't have to explain s**t to you!"

Her blue eyes widen in disbelief, her voice laced with a mix of shock and indignation. "You don't have to wha— Oh, hell no. You are my child! I want to know where you have been!"

The anger within me boils over, my words erupting from my lips without forethought. "Yeah, well, if you wanted that right, maybe you should have never married an actual f*****g serial killer and had a child with him!" My scream reverberates through the air, the weight of my pent-up resentment hanging heavily between us.

The silence that follows my outburst is deafening, providing me with the perfect opportunity to escape. I spin on my heel, charging down the hallway towards the refuge of my room. The door slams shut behind me, the echo of the loud bang reverberating through the house. As an extra measure of security, I twist the lock, ensuring my solitude for the time being. My speaker and cellphone are quickly retrieved, and I fill the room with the blaring sound of The b***h Came Back by Theory of a Deadman. My mother doesn't attempt to penetrate my sanctuary; there's no banging on the door or yelling. I can only assume my harsh words have wounded her enough to grant me a reprieve for the rest of the day. A pang of guilt tugs at my heart, but I remind myself that the horrors we've endured can be traced back to her poor choices. If she had never married my father, we would have been spared years of torment.

The beeping of my phone offers a welcome distraction, pulling me away from my grim thoughts. Having received a heads-up from Zeke, I'm prepared when I see Brandon's name pop up on the screen.

"Hey, I'm sorry we didn't talk more this morning. I just needed to clear my head. I really do like you and don't want to mess this up. Can we talk later?" his message reads.

A swarm of butterflies erupts in my stomach as I read his words. I quickly type out a reply, my heart pounding in my chest. "Sure. Pick me up from my place in an hour? P.S. I really like you too."

His response comes almost instantly, "I'll be there."

A surge of excitement prompts a spontaneous happy dance. I leap off my bed and start rifling through my wardrobe, finally settling on a cute, form-fitting tank top emblazoned with the Buckcherry logo and my favorite shredded shorts. Armed with my outfit, I head to the bathroom for a shower, grateful that my mother isn't lurking in the corridor. The last thing I need right now is another confrontation with her, especially one where she could potentially ruin everything, as she so often does.

I hastily locked the bathroom door behind me, determined to have some privacy. Placing my chosen outfit on the toilet lid, I wasted no time in taking a brisk shower, scrubbing away the remnants of our recent camping trip and the lingering essence of the outdoors. Once I finished, I wrapped myself in a towel and swiftly got dressed, making sure each garment fit just right. With a few quick strokes of a brush, I tamed my long, blonde locks into a presentable state.

Satisfied with my appearance, I cautiously unlocked the bathroom door, my heart pounding in my chest. I dashed out, making a beeline for my room to retrieve my shoes. As I reached my bedroom, a glance out the window revealed an unexpected sight – Brandon's car was parked in the driveway where my mother's vehicle should have been. It appeared that she had left after our heated argument, but I shrugged off any concerns and closed the window behind me.

A wide grin spread across Brandon's face as he caught sight of me sprinting towards the passenger side of his car. With a burst of excitement, I hopped in, eagerly anticipating our time together. Returning his smile, we pulled out of the driveway, leaving behind any remnants of the tension and turmoil that had plagued my morning.