Page 84 of Creed

She’d hurt me plenty of times, but that was the first time she ever made me cry. I felt horrible for setting her off before I left for school that day. I’d accidentally knocked over a flower pot on the porch while chasing after the bus and broke it. I walked home that day and used the money I’d earned from pulling weeds for our elderly neighbor to buy a new pot. It was pretty. It had blue flowers painted on it that matched my mom’s eyes. When I gave it to her, at first she looked happy, then she remembered why I was giving it to her, and that blip of happiness morphed into unchecked anger. She threw the pot at my head, shards of clay hitting my face as it shattered against the wall next to me and didn’t miss a beat as she spewed her hateful words at me.

Her life of hating me not only made me crave that unconditional love even more, but it also made it hard for me to feel worthy of it. The kindness people showed me had to be temporary. I was afraid to connect with anyone because I felt as if I would be rejected shortly after. It’s why I’ve never pursued a relationship with anyone. It’s why I’ve never even slept with another person. I’m a naturally emotional human being, I can’t help it. And I feel like having sex with someone would never be a mindless means of release. I don’t judge those who do, but I could never do one-night stands because I don’t think I could help but form an emotional bond over such an act.

So I stopped hoping. Stopped looking. I hadn’t bought gifts or spoiled anyone to try and earn their affections, or fuck, just because I wanted to. I didn’t want to hurt. To be rejected or found unworthy of their love.

Then I met Collins Adaire Weston. Her brokenness met mine and something settled in my bruised and battered soul with nothing more than her simple friendship.

But as I sit here knowing that Collins still has yet to open my gift, I’m now fucking terrified that she’s going to hate it, or that it won’t measure up to this amazing gift that Creed picked out for her. Sure, I spoiled the shit out of her when I dragged her to the mall, but that was different because she was there to choose the things she wanted.

I rub my sweaty palms against my jeans, trying to settle my nerves.

“Okay, mister best friend,” Collins’ tone is teasing, yanking me from the shitty, self-deprecating thoughts. She shifts to face me, folding one leg beneath her while the other hangs over the side of the couch where Creed has now settled with a folded elbow resting on her knee. “Can I open?” She asks sweetly with both brows raised in anticipation, her green eyes bright and sparkling. The tip of her nose is pink from the tears she shed, but it heightens her freckles, making her look like a little doll.

Fucking beautiful.

A wave of nerves washes through me and I feel a little of that unworthiness creeping toward the surface, trying to settle itself at the forefront of my mind. I resist the urge to fidget and come up with an excuse to take the gift back because I’ve somehow convinced myself that it’s now lacking.

Collins bites her lip playfully as she sneaks her hand across the couch, creeping towards the bag like she’s trying to snatch the gift without my permission. Her eyes lift to mine and I can see not only excitement there, but also understanding.

Did she see me silently warring with myself?

Of course she did. That’s just a part of who Collins is. Her ability to read people without even saying a word is quickly getting added to the ongoing list of my favorite things about her.

Top of the list is her beauty.

Right next to her fiery personality.

Her playfulness is enough to snap me out of my own mind and just be present and in the moment. I smile back at her and shove the present the rest of the way to her.

“Have at it, Snow.” I laugh as she grabby-hands it and bounces in her seat as she tears into the bag with as much gusto as she did for Creed’s gift.

She hasn’t been given a gift in ten years?

Mental note: spoil the shit out of her.

She reaches into the bag and pulls out the old school headphones first. She sucks in a breath and eyes me, the corner of her lips turning up. “I like the vibe of where this is heading.”

I really fucking hope so.

She pulls out the little silver Walkman and her eyes get even brighter as she tips her head back and laughs, her hand covering her mouth for a second before slapping it on her thigh. “Oh, my god!” She squeals and does this little dance with her shoulders that makes Creed and me both grin like a bunch of goons. “My brother’s Walkman looked just like this.”

Creed nudges her knee with a propped elbow and scoffs, “You say you wore it out by using it constantly—which was a very convincing argument, by the way,” He pins her with a playful glare that has her shoulders shaking in silent laughter. I smile at the knowledge that’s about to be dropped on the cassette player she told me about the other day.

“What?” she holds her hands up with a shrug, looking anything but innocent. “I did wear it out!” she argues.

“Right,” he drags the word out, clearly not buying into her little act. “Which is why it smelled an awful lot like that Kiwiberry Rukus Frutopia drink that I bought for you the day before, huh?”

I fucking adore the way her face flushes the brightest red but they both laugh, and I can’t help but join in.

Creed turns his eyes to me and jabs a thumb at Collins, who is still giggling and fanning the rosiness from her cheeks. “You have no idea how much this one got away with because I never snitched her out to her brother.”

“What?” I look in disbelief at my little Snow with eyes as wide as saucers and a goofy-ass grin on my face. “I can’t imagine you being a little shit disturber as a kid.” I say, trying to picture it. “I bet you were a good kid, weren’t you?”

“I was a good kid!” She argues, smacking Creed’s shoulder, who just grins and dips his head.

“You were,” he says softly before looking back at me. “Doesn’t mean she wasn’t an expert little conman. She had these huge green eyes that were too big for her face, and she’d bat her lashes one time at me or Asher and we were fucking putty in her little hands. It’s how she ended up with my mp3 player.”

That sobers her up real fast. “Wait, what? That mp3 was yours?”

---