Page 7 of Derek
“Olive… you?” I say, and her whole face brightens.
“Olive you too!” she giggles and… oh fuck, I got to get out of here.
“Oohhh,” I let out a nervous laugh. “That’s clever.” I go to stand when I feel Indy’s hand around my wrist, and my whole body is on fire instantly with just that touch. I stare at her hand before looking into her glacial blue eyes.
“Derek,”Nope, nope, absolutely not. Do not say my name like that, or at all.Fucking damn it. I will the sensations coursing through my body to die and rot, all while she continues to torture me with that sweeter-than-honey voice. Seriously, it’s so beautiful that I guarantee a fucking angel weeps every time she laughs or speaks. “I’m so sorry for earlier.”
Fuuuuck. This is uncomfortable.
“Not your fault. I apologize for my abrasiveness. I just figured the guys were giving me shit.”
She lets out a self-deprecating laugh, “Nope! Just me being too much, as usual! At the burrito shop, you said I wouldn’t be here on your birthday. So, I wanted to prove you wrong. Umm… your bag is over there if you want it. But please, don’t feel like you have to take it or anything – Oh!” Her phone rings, and she looks down and sighs before turning back to me and smiling brightly. “I have to take this; Happy Birthday, Derek.”
She walks out of the break room, leaving me alone. I look over at the small bag in the corner. I should just leave it there and walk away. Nothing good will come out of me opening that bag. Gifts are obligations. I have to look at it and pretend to like whatever the item is, and then what? Display the damn thing for the rest of my life because, god forbid, the giver thinks I hate it? Gifts are stupid. To show someone “generosity,” you are giving them the responsibility of making sure they know how much you love that gift? It’s a fucking scam.
Even still, I groan before storming over and snatching up the stupid bag. I reach inside, pulling out the wad of sparkly tissue paper. Why is it so damn glittery? Did she sneeze fairy dust on it or something? I unwrap the white box and open it, pulling out a coffee mug.
“Fresh out of fucks,” I read on the front of the mug. God fucking damn it, that might actually be a little funny. I go to put the mug back in the box when I see a small bag tucked into it. As I open the bag, I put the contents in my hand and frown in confusion. It’s... a bracelet?
I look at the bracelet in my hand, brows furrowed. Did she buy me jewelry? I mean, the bracelet is cool, I guess. Black rough beads with a few reddish-brown ones scattered around. But why–
My thoughts are interrupted when Stevie walks in. “Derek.” She says crisply as she brushes past me.
“I talked to her. No need to be mad at me.” I grumble, still looking at the bracelet.
“She did a good job considering how bad her night was.” Stevie states while grabbing a drink from the fridge.
“What?” I ask, giving her my attention. She gestures to the bracelet in my hand.
“The bracelet she made you. She was bad last night, not as bad as today, but not great. Still, she got it done.”
“Wait, she made this?” Stevie nods, taking another drink.
“Lava rock and red tiger’s eye. I think it’s supposed to represent protection and strength? I’m not sure; she was researching and making it for you. I told her the mug she bought you would be enough, but she insisted on making that.” I look back down at the bracelet as anxiety fills me. I shake my head.
“No,” I state firmly and hold it out to Stevie. “I don’t… I can’t take this. That’s nice and all, but no.” I watch as her face falls and her blue eyes narrow.
“Derek Rowe, Indy made–”
“I didn’t ask her to!” I snap, causing Stevie to flinch. “All of you! You need to stop this shit. I am not Fox or Atlas, or Ash. I don’t want to be friends. I don’t want to get close. I was fine with how things were!”
I rip the door open and storm back to my station, putting the mug on top of my station’s table before quickly stuffing my belongings into my bag. I need the fuck out of here. This is too much, and I’m going to say something that will hurt someone if I don’t get the fuck out.
“What’s going on?” Fox asks, and I shake my head as Stevie huffs from somewhere behind me.
“You don’t want us to be your friend, Derek? Fine, you don’t have to worry about that. God, you’re such an ass.”
“I’m an ass because I have boundaries?” I call from over my shoulder. “Okay, yeah, that makes perfect sense. I don’t want friends. I don’t want you to check on me.” I point to Janie. “I don’t want you fuckers to include me in your bromance,” I glare at Fox and Atlas before turning to Indy, who is now standing by Stevie with a confused expression on her face. “And I don’t want birthday cakes and gifts. I want to be alone.” As I swing my backpack over my shoulder, I hear it connect with something before the sound of something breaking echoes through the area. I turn to see what I hit and—Oh no.
I see the mug Indy gave me scattered on the ground in several pieces. I stare at it in stunned silence. The feeling in my chest, it’s like a vice grip on my heart. I glance up to see Indy’s red face for only a second before she storms off.
“I’ll get the vacuum,” Janie mutters.
“No,” I state firmly as I go to my knees and pick up the pieces. Indy is the first person to get me something in… a long fucking time, and I just carelessly broke it right in front of her. Goddamn it, I am an asshole.
I gather up all the pieces I can find and hold them close to my chest as I stand up. Staring out at the silent group, I take a breath, trying to regain my composure. “I’m going to go grab some glue.” I manage out evenly. “I’ll be back. Don’t nobody touch my table or station.” I state and brush past everyone to head out to the craft store.
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