He winces. “Technically, we always charge for bottled water. Hence the big sign behind me that says water bottles aresoldhere. I just never charged you before. But Meekail is all in a snit about my latest Amazon purchases. Hewon’t let me buy anything else from them till I pay off the latest credit card bill. And since I love Amazon more than you, you get charged. Three bucks, buttercup. Pay up.”
And in typical fashion, I ran out of the apartment with just my driver’s license and my keys. That’s it. No wallet, no cash. I don’t even keep spare change in my car.
“Forget it,” I grumble as I turn and head for the door. I can survive the fifteen-minute drive home. Will I feel like death in the Sahara when I get there? Sure. But what else am I going to do? Spend thirty minutes at the water fountain till I quench my thirst? Those things go so slow, and I feel like a damn dog lapping up the water.
“Two coconut waters.” Kooper’s voice, once again behind me, makes me glare. Damn bastard has to be greedy and get two? He shouldn’t even need them. He barely broke a sweat, so there’s no need to replenish electrolytes. The guy really needs to go die under a rock somewhere.
“Ruby.”
“What?” I don’t even look back as I respond to Kooper.
“Here.”
I turn, and a freaking water bottle hits me dead center in the chest. My arms fly up to catch it, and that’s when I see it’s coconut water.
“Try not to die on the way home,” he says before turning and heading back to who the fuck knows where. When I left the track upstairs, he was still stretching. He never said I should, too, but the look he gave me pushed me to run down the stairs faster just to spite him.
I glance at Jordan, whose bugged-out eyes likely mirror my own. Kooper is an ass. A complete and utter ass.
But I’m not about to turn down a free drink. I’m on a college paycheck, after all. Meaning I have nothing, and anything free is amazing. I’ve never drunk coconut water before. It’s not good. Like at all. But I keep it and drink it on the way home. Not the wasteful type, despite how much of a smile it brings to my lips to think I can just throw this out the window as a screw you to Kooper. Not that he would know, or care.
But if he didn’t care, why did he buy it for you in the first place?
My inner beast has a point. One I refuse to think about any longer as I pull up just as Dad does, and everything else is forgotten as I soak in some much-needed solo time with my pops.
“Hey, Nat, you home? I brought pizza,” I singsong as I walk into the apartment.
“And guests,” Abigail chirps from behind me as she shuts the door.
“You’re not a guest. You’re family,” I say as I put the pizza down and open it up to grab a slice. I burn my mouth on the first bite and have to breathe through my mouth as I pant, but I refuse to let the piece in my hand go.
“More like another roommate.” Natalie smiles as she comes to the living area after shutting her door behind her. She always keeps it closed. I never say anythingbecause I know she isn’t dealing or something crazy like that. Trust me, I’d know. And she doesn’t give me shit when I don’t speak up on things that I’m sure seem odd about me. Like sometimes leaving at a moment’s notice to help with the club or something and not filling her in. When I got the head injury, I just said I fell. Nothing more. She knew I was at the seminar where the shooting happened. She was meant to come, too, just for support, but ended up not going. She never asked if I was there. Never questions anything I do, or who I bring home. Which isn’t that often, but it usually happens once or twice a month. And it’s always Abigail.
“That’s true. Hey, you think we can start charging her rent?” I say.
Nat shrugs. “Only if she springs for the electric bill.”
“Ugh, again? I swear we just paid it,” I groan.
“That’s the thing about bills, honey. It’s a monthly issue.”
“We really should start stripping,” I mumble around another bite.
“I’ve seen you dance, Ruby. You ain’t got the moves.” Abigail grins as she picks up her own slice, blowing on it enough to take a bite and not swat at her melting tongue.
“Kitten’s dance group offered to give me lessons.” I pout.
“Which one is Kitten again?” Natalie asks as she picks off the black olives. Which is fine, since I put them on my pizza. She likes pepperoni, and I like black olives. So, naturally, we get both, and she deals with it. We could do half and half, but I end up bingeing on pizza during gaming nights. Like I plan to tonight with a new gaming friend—whoseusername is Bowser, so it won’t last long. And why should we have to have a slice without olives?
Okay, I sound like a bitch even to my own ears, but Nat’s cool about it.
Plus, I’m the one who splurges on the pizza every time. A rule we made freshman year. The person who buys gets to decide, and the other can eat it and not complain or go without. It’s not perfect, but it’s never been an issue for us. There’s a reason Nat’s my roommate. We get along better than anyone else I know, even if I don’t know everything about her. That might be the reason it works so well. We’re close and yet still complete strangers in other ways.
“Kitten is the one with amnesia and goes by Jules. She’s with Flint. And her best friend Bailey—who’s now Troublemaker, it seems—is with Gator.”
“When did that happen?” Abigail asks.
I shake my head at both of them. “If you guys didn’t keep ditching me for the vet internship and whatever coffee thing you had going on, you’d know this shit.”
