Page 127 of The Compass Series

DAMIAN

A fter dinner, Stella and I stood outside, waiting for the valet to pull Connor’s rental car around the corner. Aaliyah and Connor both ran off to the restrooms, leaving the two of us.

And, of course, good ole Stella couldn’t stand in silence for too long before she struck up a conversation.

“Your friends are so nice.” Stella tilted her head toward me and narrowed her eyes. “So I’m trying to figure out why you’re such a jerk.”

And here we go again.

“Different upbringings,” I muttered.

“Yes. Maybe. Aaliyah mentioned she grew up in situations like yours, too, though and?—”

“Don’t be ignorant.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“If you were comparing Aaliyah and me growing up in the foster system and the idea that you think all foster individuals grew up alike, then you’re ignorant.”

“I didn’t even know Aaliyah grew up in foster care. Maybe if you actually let me finish my thought, you would’ve seen what I was getting at.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

I grumbled and didn’t push the subject.

We stood on the curbside, waiting for Aaliyah and Connor to join us. The silence was loud, but I didn’t have the nerve to speak up and offer Stella an apology for assuming what her thoughts had been.

“Do you always have this up?” she asked, staring down the street but speaking to me.

“Have what up?”

“Your shield.”

“Shield?”

“To keep people out.”

I shifted in my shoes and crossed my arms, not answering her.

Even though the answer was a solid yes.

She released a weighted sigh and turned to me. “Listen, I know you aren’t happy with this whole arrangement, and trust me, I’m not either. But if we are going to make this work over these next few months, we have to be able to communicate with one another.”

“I disagree. What we need to do is stay out of one another’s way. I don’t do the whole people thing.”

“Well, it turns out that we are complete opposites. I’m a people person.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t people with this person,” I replied coldly. “Besides, you’re not a people person, you’re a people pleaser, and that’s not the same thing.”

She laughed. “You don’t even know me, yet you’re already trying to define who I am.”

“It doesn’t take much to notice that fact about you. You bend over backward simply to get people’s approval. That’s why you care so much that I don’t like you.”

“I don’t care at all that you don’t like me,” she countered. Shifting in her shoes, she rolled her shoulders back. “Why don’t you like me, though?” she questioned, proving my exact point.

I snickered.

She frowned.

I wasn’t used to her frown. It seemed sadder than most. Maybe because she didn’t do it very often.

“Screw you, Beast.”

“With or without the lights on, Cinderstella?”

She flushed and stuttered a bit before shifting around uncomfortably.

“Listen, neither one of us wants to be here, so let’s stay out of each other’s way, okay?

Six months will be over before you know it, and we can both move on with our lives.

Soon enough, we’ll be nothing more than a distant memory to each other. ”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic!”

I rolled my eyes. “Do you always have to get the last word in?”

“No!”

“Good.”

“I’m just saying?—”

“Jeez, woman! Can you stop saying anything? You talk too much.”

“You speak too little.”

I went quiet.

She kept talking.

I huffed.

She huffed back dramatically. “ Huff !” she shouted.

“What the fuck was that?”

She puffed out her chest. “I huffed at your huffing.”

I considered whether this woman was truly unwell, but I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to keep the conversation going.

We were the odd couple, and a part of me doubted she’d be able to go without talking to me over the next six months. I never realized how much of a privilege silence had been in my life until that very moment.

“Be nicer to her,” Connor said.

“What?”

“You heard me. Stop being a dick. You have to break down your barriers a bit, Damian,” Connor commented as we sat in the theater room of the home after dinner.

Aaliyah was in bed for the night, and Stella was doing whatever it was that Stella did.

Probably dancing under the moon and talking to the ocean or some weird shit.

Connor suggested watching a movie on the big screen, and I agreed. Though, for the past twenty minutes or so, we’d been trying to figure out how to get the movie to play. He finally gave up and plopped down in one of the ridiculously comfortable chairs and was giving me a scolding.

“My barriers are fine,” I argued. “Boundaries are good.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But coldness is not. Stella’s a nice person.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’re rude to her.”

“I’m not rude. I’m straightforward.”

He laughed. “Your straightforwardness can come off as being rude to most of the world.”

“Why is it my job to control how most of the world feels?”

He pointed a finger at me. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Being defensive. I’m not here to get you wound up, buddy. I’m here as your best friend. You asked me if I had any tips on how you could make this situation work with Stella, so you end up with what you want—the money to help your charity.”

“Yes.”

“So, this is me being a helpful friend. You’ve gotta be nicer to her.”

“I’m not a nice person.”

“Bullshit. You’re the nicest person I know.

You just don’t show it to the world as often.

Last year, when you were there for Aaliyah during our hardships, you were beyond nice.

You were kind. And patient. And the best friend in the whole damn world.

You are the most genuine person on this planet, Damian.

I’m not saying you must be Superman to Stella, but…

just ease up a little. It’s clear she’s sensitive. ”

“She cries over everything.”

“And you cry over nothing. Complete opposites. Just meet her halfway at least. You aren’t alone in this crazy situation. Stella is living it out day by day, too. She’s not the villain in this story, Damian. She’s the leading lady. She’s a good one.”

“What if she isn’t? What if she’s awful and just hides it well?”

He shrugged. “You’re a master at reading people when you spend more than five minutes with them. From the time you’ve spent with Stella, has she shown any signs of being cruel?”

No.

None.

The complete opposite.

Was she wacky as fuck? Yes. But cruel? Not an ounce.

“I’m not telling you to fall in love with her even though I’d be down for that, too. All I’m really saying is to give her a break. She’s going through this shitstorm right beside you. It’s you two against the world, really.”

I huffed and puffed, annoyed that he was spot-on.

“Are you guys having trouble?” Stella interrupted the conversation as she walked into the theater space. She was drenched, drying her curly hair with a towel. I was almost certain she’d taken a dive into the ocean like she’d done the night before.

“We couldn’t get it to work,” Connor said, holding up five different remotes.

“I can help you with that.” She walked over and grabbed the remotes. Within seconds, the screen powered on. She asked what we wanted to watch, Connor told her, and she set it all up.

“You can hit this button to shut it all off when done. And if you want, there’s a beverage fridge in the back corner right there. I can also make you some popcorn if you’d like,” she offered.

“It’s all right,” I said.

“I’d love popcorn!” Connor exclaimed as if he hadn’t just eaten two baskets of bread at dinner.

Without a second of hesitation, Stella went over and started popping fresh popcorn for my hungry friend. No annoyance or complaining from her. She just did the act and handed us two bowls of popcorn.

“If you need anything else, at any point, let me know. I grew up in this house, so I know all the ins and outs of it. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow for the big deal,” she nervously joked about the ceremony. Was she as nervous as I’d been?

As she left the room, I sighed, looking down at the delicious-smelling popped kernels in front of me.

“What is it?” Connor asked, noticing my sigh.

“She’s just like you and Aaliyah, isn’t she?”

“What do you mean?”

Rolling my eyes, I shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth and chewed aggressively. “A good person.” He laughed. I groaned. “It’s not funny.”

“I know. I hate when good people show up. It’s a pain in my ass.”

I hated it, too. Because they hardly ever stayed.