She broke the hug, pushing me away. “And you’re back to being a fuckstick.”
Chapter Seven
Greta
Why am I searching for fuzzy socks online at two in the morning?That’s right. I chose to drink way too much coffee and my heart started racing in circles. If I stopped breathing for a second, I could literally hear each beat slam into my chest. I clicked through picture after picture, searching for the perfect pair. It was the best distraction instead of reading my parents’ email. They were downsizing their house, moving to a cheaper side of town. Everything was fine, they said. They’d just made some tough decisions. They wanted me to create an Excel sheet of monthly expenses to see how they could contribute.
No.I would not have them lose any more money. My brother Corbin deserved it more. His wretched ex-wife had dragged the divorce out for so long I’d forgotten what it was like to not have to ask about it. My head pounded, my poor speeding heart going into overdrive.
Socks it was. Socks were happy. Socks were fluffy.
I clicked past hot pink ones with capes, purple ones with zippers and clapped when I saw the perfect pair. They were dark and light brown, the shape of bear paws. They’d even added little claws on the front. I ordered them without a second thought and couldn’t wait to see his face. I wondered if he still couldn’t sleep from our conversation earlier that week and took a chance texting him.
Greta: Are you up?
Aaron: Yes. Why are you up? Don’t you tutor in the morning?
Greta: Ugh. Yes. My dumb ass drank a little too much coffee. Anyway. I bought you a present. I did one-day delivery. You should get it tomorrow.
Aaron: I don’t need a gift.
Greta: Don’t worry. It’s nothing big. It might be a bit em-bear-assing.
Aaron: You’re so odd.
Greta: Yeah, you love me though.
Aaron: Yes. Go to sleep, Pita.
Greta: I can’t. I tried, trust me. I’ve reorganized my entire room, the kitchen, planned out my meals for the next month and created a fifteen-year plan.
Aaron: Jesus.
I laughed, picturing him pinching his nose at me. Whenever he made that face, he transformed into a curmudgeon and I got a picture of what he would look like in fifty years’ time. My phone rang in my hand, making me jump. “Hello?”
“What’s your fifteen-year plan?” His gruff voice sounded bogged down with exhaustion.
“Hello to you, too.” I laughed, sinking farther into my bed. I was not a stranger to Aaron’s late-night calls. They’d happened a bit the year before after his dad’s diagnosis. But this time, he sounded different. “You actually want to hear this?”
“Yes. I’m curious,” he replied, the deep timbre of his voice affecting me.What the hell?
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll be in my thirties. I want at least two kids, maybe three. I hope to be working in an awesome district that supports teachers. I’ve always wanted dogs and a house with toys everywhere. Not messy, but lived in. Location isn’t that important. My hunk of a husband will have abs of gold and will cook for me. We both know I can’t cook for shit. Hmm.”
He didn’t reply, but I heard him breathing. So, I kept gabbing. I talked about the names of kids I wanted. I told him my wish to maybe be a principal, a goal I’d never told my parents. I loved the concept of having a huge impact on the young lives of students. I spoke about picnics and vacations, grilling out on the weekends, and plants. Ever since Sims had come out, I’d spent hours as a kid designing the most badass houses with impeccable landscaping. Thinking I’d gone a little too far, I stopped. “You haven’t said a word. You must think I’m batshit crazy.”
I heard a snore. The asshole had fallen asleep listening to me talk. I hung up, not mad although not any calmer than before the call. Hopefully he didn’t hear about the last part. Not many people admitted to playing Sims for hours on end.Oh, well.
Although I felt a little more tired, sleep was hours away. I tried counting backward from one hundred. Didn’t work at all.I guess socks it is.I found my oldest, comfiest pair and succumbed to the fact that I would feel like hell and look like death the following morning. I hoped the kids didn’t judge me too much.
The blaring sound of my alarm woke me way too soon. I hated that sound. I wanted to murder it. But I had responsibilities and shit. I could do this adult thing.Yeah right. You avoided making a budget and bought socks. You suck ass.
Cool. I was so sleep deprived I was holding full conversations in my head. I needed coffee.Shit, do I have a coffee addiction?
Today would be the first of a semester-long partnership with a local elementary school where I would come in every Monday morning to tutor some fifth graders. I’d volunteered there twice a month the year before, this year expanding to actual lessons.Eek!I was so excited. I just hoped the dark circles under my eyes didn’t make me look like a vampire.
I chose a red polka-dot dress that fell to my knees. It was extremely comfortable to bend down and work with the kids but also didn’t show too much skin. I called it one of my professional yet perky outfits. Yes, I named sections of my closet.
“Callie, you still there?” I shouted into the living room that connected our bedrooms. “Did you make coffee?”
