“You are, cupcake,” I tell him with a wink. “But Bay will always be my little Rook.”
She flips me off as she laughs. “So, what are you doing? Practicing your stalking skills? Life so boring you have to harass us on your day off?”
I peer into their cart and glower at the frozen waffles. “Bro.No.”
“I love Eggos, let me live,” Bay says, trying to cover them.
“You’re killin’ me, Rook. Fuck’s sake.” I don’t fight her though. I’d love to have enough time to meal prep for the entire week, but if I do that, I won’t have time to stock my mom’s house, and most of the time, she has to come first.
It also doesn’t help that—in spite of telling myself it’s a terrible idea—I’m grabbing stuff for Leo too.
“What are you up to?” Axel asks quietly. He’s been around longer than I have, but we don’t spend a lot of time together since he’s on the EMT side, and only the younger ones hang with us.
But he’s always been kind, and I wish I knew him better.
He has deep-set dark eyes that I swear sometimes can see straight into my soul. Does he know what a dipshit I’ve been? Does he know I’m dying inside after this afternoon with Leo? I’m probably just being paranoid, but I can’t help the feeling in my chest.
“Meal prep for my mom,” I say, then brace myself for him to call me out for not disclosing Leo’s food.
His lips lift into something like a smile. “You’re sweet.”
My entire body sags with relief. Okay. I’m just being a dipshit. I’m not walking around with a glowing neon sign attached to my forehead that says, “Fucking my nemesis.”
“Trust me, he’s not sweet,” Bay says, elbowing him. I’m pretty sure they’re related somehow, but I’m too afraid to ask how. “But he does love his mama.”
“That I do.” Sometimes that love wars with the resentment I have for her, but I deal with it.
The girls and I have no other choice.
“I should take off,” I say, pulling my cart back. “Rook, rookie, you behave for Axel.”
Bay flips me off, and Logan flushes a little but nods. He’s about as old as I am, but he seems lost, and he’s so fucking shy. Idon’t totally get why. Ozzie is a lot more naive, but he’s easier to get along with.
I shoot them all a two-fingered salute off my forehead, then turn down the pasta aisle to grab a few boxes of rigatoni and to see if they have any decent gnocchi that doesn’t taste like that weird, attempted sourdough ass.
Filling the rest of my cart, I make my way up to the register, and my phone begins to buzz in my pocket. Easton’s name is on the screen, so I send him to voicemail.
That earns me an immediate text.
Easton: VMAIL? JUST SAY YOU WANT ME TO DIE!
Me: You’re starting to sound like my baby sister. And don’t capslock me, babe. I’m checking out at the market. Call you in a sec.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I smile at the cashier, who looks no older than nineteen and stoned out of his mind. He scans everything so slowly, I fight the urge to leap behind the counter and do it myself, but instead, I busy my hands with rearranging all the cards in my wallet until he reads the total.
“Two seventy-six…and, uh…” He squints at the screen.
Sixteen cents.
Fuck me. Fuck my life. I’m going to go broke just trying to keep everyone fed. That’s all my fun money, but whatever. I’m kind of a loser anyway, and I don’t really get out much. Besides, I have a seventy-two-hour shift coming up, so that’s going to occupy all my time.
I tap my card against the reader, then try not to look at the receipt as it prints. The stoned guy shoves it into a bag, thenpasses me the cart, and I walk out, trying not to think about how bleak everything feels.
Off in the distance, storm clouds are gathering, and my stomach sinks. It’s a sign that it’s going to be a rough night. I’m not on duty, but there’s a good chance that if shit hits the fan, I’ll be called in.
And while I really want to enjoy my day off, I realize maybe that’ll be a good thing. At the very least, I won’t have to think about Leo for a while, and that might give me a little bit of peace.
The moment I open the door to my mom’s apartment, I know I’ve been gone too long. It smells musty and gross. There’s the sharp, pungent stench of something rotting in the sink like old spaghetti sauce and meat, and I can hear her snoring loudly from her bedroom.
