Uppercut (A James Maslow FanFic)

Chapter 5

I didn’t want to see him again. At least not yet. The wounds were too fresh. As much as I wanted to James to come running back to me, I knew that it wasn’t going to happen in a matter of hours. He was an overprotective grudge holder and I wasn’t ready to be yelled at again.

My eyes wandered back to the inside of the cab. I looked next to me at Alex. He was watching me as I was starting to have a mental break down.

“Shhh. You’re fine,” He whispered, wrapping an arm around me for support. He must’ve seen the panic in my eyes. “No one’s been in contact with him. He’s doesn’t know we’re here.”

I leaned into his shoulder and instantly felt a little calmer by the news. I wasn’t going to be confronted again today.

I heard a door open and my eyes flickered toward the noise. My mom was getting out of the front seat. She was carrying a tired looking Devon.

I sat up and reached for the door handle.

The air was cool considering we were in Nevada. We all walked towards the restaurant after we had gotten out of the cab and it drove away. My mom led us inside.

We were greeted by a bubbly waitress. She was probably just excited that her shift was almost over. It was almost 8:30pm.

She escorted us to a booth near the middle of the building.

I sulked as I took an inside seat. Alex slid in next to me as Drew, Devon, and my mother sat across from us.

I looked up at the waitress as she asked what drinks we wanted. When she turned toward me I quickly looked away, kind of embarrassed of the mess that I currently was.

“I’ll have an iced tea,” It sounded like I was a chain smoker or something. My voice was raspy due to the lump that had made its home in my throat and wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.

She left and I picked up my menu in a desperate attempt to avoid eye contact with my family. I knew they would want to talk and I wasn’t up for it.

I stared at the words and pictures not paying attention to what they were.

I heard my mother sigh. I looked up from the menu to glance at her.

“I think I’ll try calling James,” She spoke as she dug her phone out of her pocket.

I quickly looked back at the paper I was holding. The words got blurrier and my throat clenched.

No. No. No. No. No. What if he answered? What if she talked him in to coming here? I mentally began to become hysterical again.

He wouldn’t answer would he? He was probably off somewhere punching something, or angrily throwing furniture around his house, or something. He wouldn’t be near his phone. If he was the same person that I knew from when he still lived at home, then the last thing he would do was want to answer his phone.  He could be a crazy, angry person when he wanted to be.

I felt like slipping under the table and hiding. I’d rather spend time with a gum covered table over my head, sitting in bits of uneaten food than here awkwardly with my family.

I heard the faint ringing noise of my mom calling him. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Then it stopped and there was a mumbling from the other line. I paused mid breath, suddenly a little scared. Cue the hyperventilation.

Mom sighed and I opened my eyes to look at her. She was hanging up. It was just the voice mail. I let out the breath I was holding.

“Well,” She put her phone away and picked up a menu. “Who else is hungry?”