I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann - Страница 30

“I appreciate hearing it. I’m hanging in.” It would get better once the schedule change started at Rainbow Academy.

But for now, I had to run. Because I’d chatted with Ms. Parker, there was no convenience-store sandwich, but Louisa was waiting for me at the classroom with a plate she’d saved from lunch. I suspected Mrs. Keller had asked her to mother me, after our talk the other day.

“Careful, if the kids see it, they’ll ask for seconds.”

In five minutes, I scarfed the corn dog, carrots and celery, and the apple slices. It wasn’t enough to fill me up, but I’d be nicer to a class full of four-year-olds if my stomach wasn’t growling the whole time. With thirty seconds to spare, I darted into Mrs. Trent’s room, feeling like I’d won the Boston Marathon.

“You’re all sweaty,” Sam said, running over to hug me.

I patted him on the head. Sometimes it was hard not to show favoritism. “Why did the dinosaur cross the road?”

“To get to the other side?”

“Good guess, but no. Because the chicken hadn’t been invented yet!”

He giggled. “That was stupid.”

“Hey, you’re the one who loves these.” Hopefully, the internet wouldn’t run out of dinosaur material before he grew out of this stage.

I survived Friday and spent the weekend studying, as this was my last chance; next week I’d be taking midterms. Lauren and I didn’t talk much, but Angus was doing better, so Thursday night was worth the drama. Max was around less both Saturday and Sunday. If he was prepping for his exams or working more, I had no idea.

Sunday night, I got a text from Ty.

I’m free the weekend of the 25th. Are you?

That was next weekend. I might be wiped from midterms, work and the practicum, but I had no plans.

What did you have in mind? I sent back.

You. Me. All weekend.

Suddenly I had more energy than I knew what to do with. My hands actually trembled when I asked,

Are you asking me to spend the weekend with you?

At my place, he clarified, like I really thought we were going on vacation together.

Can’t wait.

That was a massive understatement.

During the next week, the promise of the twenty-fifth acted on me like a lure, spurring me on. I didn’t sleep at all Sunday night, and on Monday, I was bleary-eyed but jacked up on energy drinks. I raced through the tests like the information was liquid that might trickle out my ears and onto my desk. My brain actually felt like that might be true.

At work, I was so sluggish, Sam noticed. I was sitting in one of the tiny chairs, watching the kids color, when he turned to me. “You look sad, Nadia.”

“Just tired.”

“You were tired before,” he noted. “Dad is, too. It makes him grumpy.”

Hearing Sam’s impression of Ty put a smile on my face. “Being a grown-up is hard. I’m not very good at it yet, I suspect.”

“Then stop,” he advised.

It was a compelling suggestion, but I didn’t think my parents or my academic adviser would be amused to find me hiding in a ball pit while screaming the Toys R Us theme song. But it seemed like a good idea to warn Mrs. Trent that I might be less than stellar this week.

“Midterms,” she guessed.

“Yeah. So if I seem like I’ve taken up recreational drugs, I promise it’s just exhaustion, so don’t make me pee in a cup.”

“Noted.”

She went easy on me the rest of the day, and on Tuesday morning, she found jobs that required me to sit and watch the kids a lot. Not that I was complaining. I resolved to work extra hard for her once I got over this hurdle. Instead of going to Chuck E. Cheese’s, I took my Tuesday exams and then fell asleep hugging my tablet, trying to cram even more for Wednesday morning. The final was tough enough that it made my practicum feel like a welcome break; at least there was no test.

At work, I responded to Ty’s texts, though they were sporadic and low-key, stuff like, Thinking of you and Is it Friday yet? That night when I got home, Lauren had dinner ready, plus her famous oatmeal cookies. I took the gesture as an apology.

“Are we good?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think this is the longest we’ve ever not been. Is your mom sick?” It was the only thing I could think of.

She shook her head. “No, it’s... I just did a stupid thing, that’s all.”

“What?”

“Max.”

For a minute, I wasn’t sure I heard right. “Huh?”

“I wasn’t in our room that night because I was in Max’s.” But from her expression, that wasn’t good.

“Don’t tell me he’s terrible.”

“No, the sex was fine.”

Suddenly, I thought I understood the problem. “And now you’ve hooked up with someone we live with, and it’s kind of weird.”

“Yep. I can’t look at him now, and he leaves the room pretty much as soon as I walk in. I don’t know what we were thinking.”

Oh, Lauren. He was thinking, finally. This must be killing Max.

On some level, I’d registered that he wasn’t around much anymore, but I had so much stuff going on that I couldn’t keep tabs on all of them. Sometimes I had to get my own house in order before I could do any freelance cleaning, so to speak. Unfortunately, there was no way to clue her in without breaking his confidence.

“What are you going to do?” I decided on a noncommittal response.

“Right now, I’m mostly surprised you’re not making fun of me. Max, of all people.” She shook her head, sighing.

Restraining a wince on his behalf, I answered, “Like I would.”

It was clear she saw the whole thing as good sex, bad idea, which meant she had no inkling how he felt. Punching him in the head might be my next move. Lauren thought she was no more important than anyone else he’d slept with. Good luck changing her mind, I thought.

“Try to act normal. So you’re friends with benefits.” The irony of me saying that didn’t escape me. “It’s not that big a deal, right?”

“I don’t think we’ll be benefiting each other again,” she said.

“Why not?”

“It was...” She paused, as if trying to organize her thoughts. “It happened for the wrong reason, that’s all.”

“Were you drunk?” I tried not to sound judgmental.

“It’s complicated.” Her expression darkened.

Somehow I didn’t think Max had done anything to warrant that look. If I had to guess, I’d say she was thinking of her father. The guy hadn’t called or written since he left ten years ago. It wasn’t an exaggeration to figure she had daddy issues, and there was a reason why she preferred no-strings sex to getting deep. Relationships required trust, and she didn’t have much to spare.

Since she’d opened up, I should do the same, as much as I could. “Speaking of beneficial arrangements, I’m kinda seeing the guy downstairs.”

“Hot Ginger?”

“Stop calling him that. His name is Ty.”

“And you’re dating? How long has this been going on?”

“Let’s say we’re conducting field research to find out if the friends with benefits thing can ever really work out.”

“So you’re fuck buddies.”

“Not yet,” I muttered. “But I have high hopes for this weekend.”

“I’d tell you to be careful, but given my own situation, I feel like that’d just be inviting some pot-kettle commentary.”

“Whatever. Let’s watch TV before I go back to studying. How are midterms going?”

There, now she knows about Ty. He’s not my secret anymore.

She shrugged. “I’m not off to an awesome start this semester, so...about as well as I expected. I hope to do better on finals.”

Angus came home while we were watching a cooking show. He dismissed the contestants with a wave of a hand. “Amateurs. How are my two favorite ladies?”

“Sleepy,” I said. “But determined to reread the last of the material before tomorrow. I’ll catch you guys later.”

Taking my tablet, I got into bed, which probably wasn’t the best move. I read half a chapter before passing out, and when my alarm went off in the morning, I fell out of bed trying to turn it off. If I was rich, I could break clocks on a daily basis, just for the satisfaction of shutting them up permanently. Of course, being independently wealthy would also likely mean I could sleep as long as I wanted.