I down the beer and thank Cooper again before leaving.
I’m glad I didn’t let myself wallow in my own self-pity. Now I have a job, and a few pairs of clothes that will get me through the next few days.
I’m sure I can borrow something from Taylor for my bed. She’s the only one who knows everything about my financialsituation and the only person I don’t feel embarrassed to talk to about it.
“Hey, babe. Where are you?” Her voice makes me smile.
“Just got back from getting myself a job.”
“Really?” She sounds excited. “That’s amazing. Where?”
“Novak’s Sports Bar and Grill. It’s the dishwasher position, but it works.”
“I’m so happy for you! Where are you now?”
“Just leaving. I need to head to the hockey house to do a load of laundry. By any chance, could I use some of your laundry detergent?”
“Yeah, for sure. Is there anything else?”
I hate asking. I really fucking hate it. It’s not like she’s much better off than me.
“Nah.” I clear my throat.
“Easton,” she says in her best mom voice.
Swallowing hard and shoving down my pride, I ask. “Do you have any spare blankets and a pillow?”
“Yup,” she says with just enough pep for my sake. I really do love this girl. And if I were into girls, I’d drag her down to the courthouse and put a ring on her finger.
Okay, maybe not a ring, because that would require money, but you get the idea.
By the time I get back to the hockey house, Taylor is there waiting for me.
She’s talking with Aria, and I grin as I watch my girl stare at the babbling blonde who's talking a mile a minute, like she hung the moon.
I hang back, giving her a second, until she spots me and smiles. “Hey,” Taylor says.
Aria stops talking and looks my way. Her face drops into something close to pity. Fuck. Can she go back to hating me likeher best friend does? I’d much rather that than the look she’s giving me.
“Hey, Easton.”
I give her a forced smile. “Hey.” I nod my head. “Hey, baby. Ready?”
“Yup.” Taylor smiles up at me. I lean down and press a kiss to her cheek and wave bye to Aria.
We head up to my new room, and I dread running into Bennett. Thankfully, there's no one in there. Taylor makes my bed and hands over the laundry detergent.
“So, find anything good?” she asks, peeking at the bag. “The bag is new. Nice.”
“I’ll show you when we get down there.” I laugh.
“You should have told me you were going. I could have found a few cute things!”
“Trust me, there wasn't anything good. I checked. Maybe next time.”
This is the reason why I’m not embarrassed. Taylor used to join me back in high school. We’d spend hours looking through clothes. She could never afford brand names, but rich people donated their old clothes all the time. She was the only one in our school swimming in Aeropostale, Hollister, and American Eagle.
People would accuse her of stealing. She never corrected them because it just made her popular. Not her fault, no one thought to hunt through used clothes.
