Page 103 of Saints & Sailors

Dreux blinked and took to handling and examining the bracelet more carefully. “Whoa. Thank you, Saylor.” He slipped the bracelet on and started up the Bronco. He flashed me a smile and looked at the bracelet on his wrist as he gripped the wheel.

Before he backed out of the driveway, he sat back and grabbed his phone. “I made you something, too.” His fingers quickly glided across the screen before my own phone was going off with a text message.

I grabbed my phone and found he’d texted me a link to a playlist.

“The Fix,” I said as I read the title of the playlist.

Appearing proud, he said, “Aka the education of Saylor Stanley.”

“Lauryn Hill?” I guessed of the reference.

Dreux’s brows shot up in surprise. “You know her?”

I shrugged. “My mom’s best friend has the album cover hanging up in her house. That’s about it.”

“Well, you’re in luck, she’s on there, too.” Dreux leaned over and clicked on the music app on his truck’s touch screen and pulled up the playlist on his account.

“No one’s ever done this before,” I told him. “Thank you.”

Flowers and candy were sweet gestures I’d appreciate as well, but taking time to curate a lengthy playlist? There was something much more intimate and personal about it. It said he had been thinking of me.

Dreux pressed Play and started the first track, choosing to go in order instead of shuffling. And then he was backing out of his driveway and hitting the road for the Pier.

I recognized the first song instantly, the same went for the second. My eyes shot to Dreux and he was already grinning my way. These were the songs I’d heard on the radio that day we’d called a truce. The two records he refused to name because I’d been a brat before.

The track list said they were “Unforgettable” by French Montana and Swae Lee and “Redbone” by Childish Gambino. And now I had them on a playlist crafted just for me.

I was grinning like a fool as Dreux drove and I scrolled through the list. There were so many artists I knew by name, and some who were new to me. I liked that there were a lot of female singers included as well.

“There’s quite a few songs about flowers,” I noted as I sat back and soaked in the third song.

Dreux focused on his driving. “I’m taking Art III with Naselsky and he has us painting flowers. I got to thinking, if you were a flower, you’d be a wild one. Uninhibited, vibrant, and untamed.” He snuck a glance my way. “One of those rare ones too beautiful to pluck.”

I had to blink a few times and stare out the car window at the road. I didn’t want to do something lame and ruin the moment by crying.

But it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me.

“And here I thought I was a dandelion,” I joked, trying not to choke up.

Dreux didn’t get it. “A dandelion? Why?”

In truth, for the longest time, I didn’t think I was special enough to be loved.

Not wanting to spoil the mood, I shook my head. “Nothing.”

Dreux nudged me. “C’mon.”

“Nobody wants dandelions. For a while, I thought no one wanted me,” I confessed.

The music was playing, but I was still met with silence as Dreux caught a red light.

“No way you think that,” he said as he eyed me in disbelief.

I had. It was easy with my father leaving before I was born, my grandparents rejecting me, Richard never accepting me, Kevin ditching me, and my mother shipping me away.

Now, I got it. At least, how things truly were with my parents.

“I’ve got issues,” I said softly with a shrug.