My Record Store Romance

The Wrath of Millie Addison

Heyo, hiya, I'm getting quicker at updating! Only two weeks this time, compared to like three or more months. Anyhow, this chapter is dedicated to the winner of 2nd place in the two year anniversary MRSR contest, PhoenixDoll, for her amazing drawing of a scene from the "He Was Looking Right Through Me" chapter. I absolutely love this drawing, which can be found through the external link if you would like to see it!

In some more good news, MRSR just reached four million reads a few days ago! That's insane, thanks everyone!

Now, getting down to business.

Chapter 33: The Wrath of Millie Addison

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Hailey's Point of View

Drew wakes me the next day with kisses that taste of lingering coffee and a gentle shake of the shoulders, "Hailey," he whispers, as I'm enveloped in the white folds of his bedsheets, "Hailey, wake up."

My eyelids flutter open, reluctant to awaken as the sun begins to peek over the horizon, reflecting yellowing strands through the window. After our brief conversation in the car had come to a conclusion yesterday, the rest of the afternoon was a blur filled with bliss, a happy ending to an overly exhausting present. Drew had carried the loudly-snoring Ally from the car to her bedroom, where she continued her well-deserved rest, and afterwards, Drew and I waltzed around the house, talking to one other and stealing the occasional kiss before his parents finally returned home from the car shop.

As soon as Drew heard the rumble of his motorcycle outside in the driveway, his expression lightened, his smile widening, his entire being filling with excitement. His dad had brought it home from the record store, just like he had promised. Drew and I met his parents at the door, both thinking the same thing- but Drew was the one who said it aloud, "Was anything damaged? How does it look over there?"

His parents released a simultaneous sigh of relief, "Everything's good." His mom had said, smiling over at her son, looking weary. Then, she handed him his keys, which his dad had given her after walking through the door. "Your bike might need a little work though."

Drew scrunched his nose at her words, "Motorcycle, mom, motorcycle." She laughed at him, just rolling her eyes. His dad had already made his way to the kitchen counter, sorting through some mail.

"Anything from Kyle?" Drew's mom asked, turning in her husband's direction when she heard the shuffling of paper. Drew doesn't do it intentionally, but I see him tense beside me. I reach for his hand.

"Nope," he responds, "nothing here."

And then, the rest of the night ensues. Ally lugs her feet one by one down the stairs, a disheveled, disoriented mess when it's time for dinner. And afterwards, when the moon is high in the sky and Drew and I find ourselves yawning at the same time, we retreat into his bedroom to fall asleep. He finds his spot on the floor, which I secretly despise, wishing he was beside me, our limbs tangled together, as I conform to the contours of his mattress.

It's cold without him.

And after almost an hour in the dark, where our once tired personas have exchanged themselves for muddled, thought-provoked minds, we finally decide it's okay to admit neither of us is sleeping.

"Drew," I breathe, hoping my voice can find him through the stillness of the sleeping house. I almost tell him to come lay beside me, but then I'm reminded of his parent's rules, and stop myself. Instead, I settle for, "Are you awake?"

I know he is. The floorboards creak as he shifts upon them, turning to look towards me. He's wrapped in his own set of blankets. I scoot to the edge of the bed so that I can see him too, or at least see his silhouette. The wind howls in the background, finding its way through the window that Drew likes to keep open.