Cubby
I paceback and forth in the kitchen, typing into my phone furiously. Every day that passes without a solution from YouTube or some other corner of the internet, my freak-out kicks up another couple of notches.
“If I go back to waiting tables,” I mumble to myself, “and forsake my social life, I could try writing a sex-advice book, and maybe excerpt it into blogs…”
The coffee machine beeps, and I finally tear my eyes away from my device.
“You sure you need more caffeine, Cubby?” Meg asks from her spot at the table.
I point the phone at her, and my voice comes out rapid-fire, like a panicked, gay machine gun. “OhMyGodMegYouStayedUpUntilTwoInTheMorningWorkingToo!”
She rolls her eyes and closes her laptop. “I just got approved for a grant. I was celebrating.”
“With more work.”
She shrugs. “At least I slept in.”
It’s possible that I might start vibrating, so with a shake of my head, I turn away from the coffee. “Okay.” I take a deep breath. “I think I’ve emailed every possible lead and turned a sufficient number of stones.” I glance skeptically at the phone. “Enough to earn a break.”
“You know, you really can crash with me as long as you want. You took me in after Alicia dumped me, remember?”
“I remember.” I plop down in the seat across from her. “But you know how I am.”
“You think you need to be totally independent and self-sufficient all the time.” She yawns and pushes her hair behind her ear. “You don’t.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t argue.
“Hey, at least there’s a little bit of a bright side,” she points out.
“What’s that?”
“If you don’t have to make videos twenty-four-seven, you’ll have a lot more time for sex with Chase before we leave.”
I groan. Every time I think of Chase, my heart breaks. He’s so fucking sweet, and he acted so certain that I was going to work everything out. Somehow, he must not have realized this summer that I’m a total fucking failure, but it’s only a matter of time before he loses faith in me and I have to leave him.
“Everything sucks and the world hurts,” I tell Meg.
“I know,” she says sympathetically. “I know, Cubby.”
I glance down at my phone. “Oh my fuck.”
“What?”
“There’s a reply.” I click open the email, scrolling rapidly while I read. “Someone wrote me back.”
“Who?”
My jaw falls as I look up, my body numb with shock. “Jules the Himbo.”
* * *
I’m still processing the email from Jules as I walk the path along the lake that evening. Chase is introducing me to his family tonight, and not only am I interested in not humiliating myself by acting like a total anxiety storm, I’m actually excited to spend some time with them.
Usually, I prefer to avoid the whole meeting-the-in-laws thing. Someone in the family inevitably has an issue with me, and by the end of it, I’m left depressed and trudging through memories of my shitty parents.
But I’ve already crossed paths with Chase’s family, and I like them. Even if I didn’t, I can tell that Chase wants me to, and that feels like the best possible reason to do something right now. To try to make him feel at least half as good as being with him makes me feel.
Fuck.
