Page 9 of On My Side (Quiblings #3)

Audrey

Playlist: Make This Leap | The Hunts

Sky’s Sluts

SkysMainSlut: ladies, is my internet acting up or did Sky not upload this morning.

AshBash69: WHAT

AshBash69: NO

MeetMeInStarsHollow: okay, lets keep calm. He’s never missed a tuesday draft before. Maybe the drop is just happening later today?

RebelLady93: Adam uploaded, and so did Lucky.

RebelLady93: literally all of the tuesday regulars did except him.

SkysMainSlut: i’m going to scream

AshBash69: the emotional pain i’m feeling is worse than the physical pain of pushing a baby out of my vagina.

MeetMeInStarsHollow: i’m holding out hope it’s just a glitch and he’ll upload later. prayer hands emoji

I don’t know why I’m sitting in an old vinyl booth at the only diner in town.

Especially when I definitely drank too much last night.

I’m not a big drinker, but Piper was babysitting and Mama needed to unwind. Instead of unwinding, I unraveled .

“Can I get you anything, ma’am?” the waiter asks. He’s bald with light brown skin and a nametag identifying him as Derek.

“I’ll take a coffee for now,” I say, forcing a smile. “I’m waiting on someone.”

When Derek leaves my table, I pull my phone out, double checking the time Ren suggested we meet. Yep, nine a.m. It’s not nine yet, and I’m definitely just a nervous wreck. But I double check 4Play and scroll quickly, disappointment filling my gut.

Sky didn’t upload an audio today. I’m not the only one who noticed either. There were multiple threads about it in his subreddit, which I had checked earlier upon realizing he didn’t upload. I may or may not have added my own unhinged replies to these threads.

A bell rings as someone enters the diner, and I don’t have to look up to know it’s Ren. His aura is that powerful.

“Hey,” he says, sliding into the booth across from me. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

He sounds winded and out of breath, and it makes me squeeze my thighs together. Is this what he sounds like when he’s fucking someone? When he’s thrusting into them and telling them how good they feel? When he…

Whoa . Where did that come from? Ren and sex should never be on the same wavelength in my brain.

“Hey,” I respond, staring at the paper placemat and refusing to meet his eyes. If he knew what I just thought about him, he’d think I was one of those creepy moms without any boundaries.

Oh, Lord. I am a creepy mom without any boundaries.

I peer at him, and a wave of relief washes over me when I see he’s studying the menu.

The Quinns have been coming to Queenie’s regularly since Kat and I became friends in middle school, and probably even before then.

I’m sure he knows what he wants, but I appreciate him pretending to pursue the options nonetheless.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” I ask, flipping over the menu like I’m actually reading what it says.

I’m not. It’s all Greek to me.

Truly, they have something called a Gyro Breakfast Burrito.

“Probably the Gyro Breakfast Burrito,” Ren answers, and I can’t help but giggle.

He looks up with a smirk. “What?”

My cheeks flush and I duck my head, staring intently at the menu. “Nothing. It’s silly.”

In my peripheral vision, I see Ren put the menu on the table, rest his elbows on the surface, and place his chin in his hand. “Tell me. I love silly.”

Somehow, that is as sexy as Sky begging me to come for him.

I force myself to meet his eyes, which is a mistake. He’s looking at me like he’s absolutely captivated by what could come out of my mouth next, like he truly loves silliness…loves my silliness.

“I was looking at the menu and made a joke in my head about the Gyro Breakfast Burrito, and then you said you were getting it.”

“What was the joke?” He seems like he’s on the edge of his seat waiting to hear this silent joke I made about a breakfast item.

“I’ve never seen something like that before.

A Gyro Breakfast Burrito. And it’s funny because a gyro and a burrito are somewhat similar in the way they’re both proteins wrapped in a type of bread…

but they belong to widely different cultures, so I don’t understand what it’s trying to be.

” I shrug my shoulders. “I guess it’s all Greek to me. ”

Ren’s laugh is beautiful, and it brings me back to the first time I heard it a month ago. Familiar. It felt so familiar, like the happiness of having a friend and a family.

His laugh is full-bodied, his shoulders shaking as he buries his face in his hands. It’s not that funny, but god, it feels good to know I’m the reason he’s laughing so hard the older couple at the booth behind us is glaring at us.

“It’s… it’s not that funny,” I say, fighting back a smile.

“I know . I don’t know why I find it as funny as I do, but fuck . That got me.”

“It’s probably because you work with literal children and are used to having to laugh extra hard at things that aren’t actually that funny,” I suggest.

He meets my gaze, a twinkle in his eyes. “Maybe you and I have the same sense of humor.”

“Piper rolls her eyes at your jokes, too?” I tease.

“Oh, at least once every other minute.” He laughs again and how weird would it be if I asked if I could record it to be my alarm sound? Waking up in the mornings wouldn’t be so bad if that was what I was waking up to.

I grin. “Sounds like Piper.”

Derek appears and places a steaming cup of fresh coffee in front of me before fist bumping Ren.

“How did Zariah like her first year of middle school?” Ren asks him.

“It was her first year of middle school, so it wasn’t easy,” Derek says. “But you know what a tough kid she is. She really tried to make the best of it and joined a few clubs and is in band. She took up clarinet, if you can believe it.”

Ren’s face positively lights up, and for the first time, I understand exactly what that phrase means. It’s like he’s a light source, eyes bright and face glowing with what looks like pride and excitement. “I can believe it,” he replies excitedly. “She loved the woodwind unit.”

How is this man so precious with everyone he interacts with? Derek is beaming as Ren asks more about his daughter and there’s a simultaneous twinge of envy and admiration for his ability to make people feel so important, so seen.

Ren is mid-laugh when he suddenly freezes and his eyes widen. “Derek, it’s been good to see you,” he says, sliding out of the booth. “But I have to run.”

He makes eye contact with me, and my heart sinks. “I’ll text you, okay?” he says smoothly, before shaking Derek’s hand, spinning on his heel, and striding towards the exit.

Derek and I both stare at Ren’s retreating form in silence, and I’d love to say it doesn’t bother me, but it does. I rarely go out in Port Haven, out of fear I’ll be recognized because of my past. And if I were Ren, I wouldn’t want to befriend someone with a reputation like mine, either.

No, that’s not true.

I’d never make someone feel less than, or that they don’t deserve my company because of what they might say about me.

I force myself to smile at Derek before pulling out my phone, surprised when I already have a text from Ren with more coming in.

Ren

i. am. so. sorry. a parent of a student walked in and she’s highkey my sleep paralysis demon. she told me during parent/teacher conferences she wishes i was her husband and father of her kid

i think it was a joke but i still had to talk about it in therapy. if you want to order to go breakfast is on me

Audrey

it’s okay, we can reschedule if you want

Ren

i was excited for our breakfast honestly

Audrey

we can take it back to my place if you want to hide from any more feral mom sneak attacks

Ren

i’ll send you the money, can you order me the gyro burrito with home fries?

He proceeds to send me fifty dollars, which we both know is way more than a diner breakfast costs.

But I can’t think about the fact I’m pretty sure I currently have less than one hundred dollars in my bank account, and while I have a safety net in savings, I shouldn’t use it for breakfast. I’ll ask him if he wants the change later, but it was generous of him to treat me to breakfast.

He seems to be a genuinely generous and thoughtful person.

It’s throwing me off.

When our food arrives in to-go containers, I go to the front counter to pay. “Are you in line?” someone behind me asks, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I’m waiting directly behind the customer who’s currently paying… what else would I be doing here?

“Mmhmm.” I’m proud of myself for holding myself back and not answering sarcastically the way I’d wanted to.

I spin my debit card between my fingers, and unfortunately, I do not have the same dexterity as my daughter, because I drop it.

I curse and bend down to pick it up, knocking heads with the owner of the voice behind me.

“ Ow !” the no longer disembodied voice complains.

We didn’t hit heads that hard, but I’ll let them have their dramatics. I grab my card and we both stand.

That’s when I make one of the biggest mistakes of my life. My eyes lock with none other than Celia Bryan, one of the people who made my senior year at Port Haven High an actual living hell.

I quickly turn back around, praying in my head she doesn’t recognize me as memories of the rumors she spread play in my head.

According to her, I ran out of boys in our class to have sex with and resorted to seducing teachers, which was blatantly untrue.

But the adults in the situation seemed to buy it.

They started to hate me, instead of the person spreading rumors.

No matter what I did, I was the seductress, I was the one that was wrong, I never got a chance to defend myself.

I was always the one they chose to hate.

“No. Way. Audrey Price?”

Fuck .

Changing my last name allowed me to stay relatively anonymous in this ridiculously chatty small town. Add me dying my hair to the mix, and I’m pretty much a completely different person.

“It is you, isn’t it?” Celia continues, a hint of amusement in her voice.

I turn to face her and she slowly scrutinizes my body with her eyes.

“Didn’t think we’d see your pretty face around here again.

” Her tight smile tells me what she’s really saying: “Ballsy of you to show your face again, slut.”

“Hi, Celia.”

She ignores my greeting, eyes continuing to roam my body. I cross my arms in front of my chest, shame spreading in my chest like a black hole. “Almost didn’t recognize you,” she finally says after her perusal of my body. “You look… older.”

“Well, people’s appearances tend to change as they age,” I respond, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot.

“And you know, babies ruin your figure, though I didn’t find it too hard to lose the weight,” she continues, once again ignoring my contribution. She meets my eyes and smirks, “But not everyone has the discipline. I heard it was a girl?”

I hate how much it still can hurt. How this woman can find each scar and reopen the wound so the shame I’ve tried to contain floods out.

I’m not ashamed of Piper. I never could be—becoming her mom is the greatest thing I’ve ever done. But that scared, ostracized teenager is still inside me, huddled in a dark corner and begging to be seen, to be protected and taken care of.

“Aud!” I don’t know if hearing Ren’s voice makes the situation better or worse.

“Mr. Q!” Celia squeals, her voice a much higher pitch than from when she was talking to me. “I thought I saw you earlier!”

“Good morning, Mrs. Davidson,” Ren says in an overly formal voice. “I didn’t realize you and Audrey knew each other,” he continues, and I force myself to look up. Celia is twirling her hair while batting her lashes at Ren. The corner of his left eye twitches.

“Audrey?” Celia asks innocently, tilting her head to the side.

I internally roll my eyes because, girl, he just saw you talking to me.

From Ren addressing her as Mrs. Davidson, I also assume she’s married and changed her name.

Unfortunately, nothing of substance seems to have changed about her, though.

“Audrey,” Ren repeats as I glance at him.

We make eye contact and I want to melt into the floor.

“Didn’t realize you knew her. Can you believe she’s never had a Queenie’s Gyro Breakfast Burrito?

I had to make sure she got one. Right, Aud?

” He throws his arm over my shoulders and my heart skips a beat at the shortened name.

That seems to bring Celia out of whatever Ren Quinn-induced stupor she’s in. She quizzically looks between Ren and I. “Aud?” she repeats.

“I’m going to pay so you and Celia can catch up, okay?” Ren says. I open my mouth to remind him he already sent me the money on Venmo, but he silences me with a single arch of his brow.

The power this man exerts over me is concerning to feminism.

Of course, Celia has nothing more to say to me now that she has an audience, opening and closing her mouth wordlessly, like a fish you make fun of at the aquarium.

“How do you know Ren?” I ask innocently, crossing my arms over my chest. I already know she’s the wine mom he ran out of the building from, but I’d love to hear it from her.

“He… my kids. Music teacher,” she says. I like to think she’s so intimidated by me she can’t form full sentences, but if I’m being honest with myself, I think it’s the fact Ren was short with her, and gave me the attention she obviously wants from him that has her so taken aback.

Whatever, I’ll take what I can get.

“Ready to go?” Ren asks after paying for breakfast.

I nod, keeping my eyes on Celia. “Mmhmm. Good to see you, Celia.”

“You… you too,” Celia stammers, eyes following us as Ren and I move toward the door. I stare directly ahead, because I know if I make eye contact with him, I’m doomed to dissolve into either laughter or tears.