said he was bad at relationships. He said he was a bad guy who would cause me a whole world of hurt.”
Drew raises his eyebrows and looks at me like I should know better.
“I know, I know.” I wave him away with my fork. “But he’s had a tough life. I think he doesn’t feel worthy of a relationship for whatever reason, that’s why he said that.”
“Is that really what you took from his warning? Because there’s also a good chance that he really is a bad guy—in relationships anyway. And you might want to take him at his word, or at least keep it in mind and proceed with extreme caution.”
I throw a cucumber slice at Drew that hits him in the chest. “Stop peeing all over my happiness, Drew. Just let me enjoy this—I really like this guy.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he said, tossing the cucumber slice back at me. It hits me on the cheek and falls back into my salad bowl. “Having a fling is great, but part of that is not getting attached. And it seems like—”
He’s interrupted by a tomato slice to the eye. He squinches his eye shut and slowly picks it off, but a large smear of orange dressing remains under his check.
“Do you really want to start this, Ember?” He dangles the tomato slice in the air. “Because I don’t care how messed up your house gets. I’m not the one who has to clean it.”
I respond by throwing a baby corn at him, which bounces off his forehead and lands in his lap. He sits there looking at it for a moment, then pulls the salad out of my hand and sets it on the coffee table. And in one quick sweep he lunges forward and puts me in a headlock. “You think you’re funny?” he says, rubbing the baby corn and dressing-covered tomato all over my face.
“Stop!” I yell, laughing and screaming at the same time. “I’m sorry! I just wanted you to stop peeing all over my happiness!”
He force-feeds me the tomato and the baby corn, then releases his grip, catching his breath as he leans back on the couch. “I’m not trying to pee on anyone’s happiness. I’m just trying to look out for you. All I’m saying is be careful.”
At that moment, the door bangs open and April walks in, looking tired. She turns to where we’re sitting on the couch and squints at me, “Why is there orange stuff all over your face?”
“Because your boyfriend is a turd.” I glace at Drew who pretends to look offended, then at Amber who looks confused. I just wave her away and stand up. “I’ll give you crazy kids some privacy. I’m going to go wash up.”
Chapter 22
Bohemian
I’m happy to leave April and Drew alone. I know she’s going to make up a lie about what she’s been up to, and I don’t want to hear it. The whole thing is just too fucking sad.
I come out of my room a little later to retrieve my phone, and I’m surprised to see that Drew is no longer here. April’s alone at the kitchen counter, where she’s pouring sugar and cocoa powder into a jar of peanut butter. Wearing a drapey white blouse and a floor length bohemian skirt with an intricate blue design, her bracelets jangle as she stirs her concoction.
“Where’s Drew?” I ask as I sit down at the kitchen table.
“He left,” she says without turning around. “I told him I was tired from work and I wanted to go to bed early. Can you believe he just showed up like that? I told him I was busy with you. It’s like, how clingy can you get? And he said he came over to bring me a salad—that was his excuse for showing up.” She turns and picks up the white paper bag that Drew brought over, holding it up like it’s something repulsive. “Ugh, how pathetic is that?” She flings it in the trash, then pulls a pack of sour patch kids out of her shirt pocket and proceeds to mix them into the peanut butter.
“So who have you been smoking pot with?” I
Drew raises his eyebrows and looks at me like I should know better.
“I know, I know.” I wave him away with my fork. “But he’s had a tough life. I think he doesn’t feel worthy of a relationship for whatever reason, that’s why he said that.”
“Is that really what you took from his warning? Because there’s also a good chance that he really is a bad guy—in relationships anyway. And you might want to take him at his word, or at least keep it in mind and proceed with extreme caution.”
I throw a cucumber slice at Drew that hits him in the chest. “Stop peeing all over my happiness, Drew. Just let me enjoy this—I really like this guy.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” he said, tossing the cucumber slice back at me. It hits me on the cheek and falls back into my salad bowl. “Having a fling is great, but part of that is not getting attached. And it seems like—”
He’s interrupted by a tomato slice to the eye. He squinches his eye shut and slowly picks it off, but a large smear of orange dressing remains under his check.
“Do you really want to start this, Ember?” He dangles the tomato slice in the air. “Because I don’t care how messed up your house gets. I’m not the one who has to clean it.”
I respond by throwing a baby corn at him, which bounces off his forehead and lands in his lap. He sits there looking at it for a moment, then pulls the salad out of my hand and sets it on the coffee table. And in one quick sweep he lunges forward and puts me in a headlock. “You think you’re funny?” he says, rubbing the baby corn and dressing-covered tomato all over my face.
“Stop!” I yell, laughing and screaming at the same time. “I’m sorry! I just wanted you to stop peeing all over my happiness!”
He force-feeds me the tomato and the baby corn, then releases his grip, catching his breath as he leans back on the couch. “I’m not trying to pee on anyone’s happiness. I’m just trying to look out for you. All I’m saying is be careful.”
At that moment, the door bangs open and April walks in, looking tired. She turns to where we’re sitting on the couch and squints at me, “Why is there orange stuff all over your face?”
“Because your boyfriend is a turd.” I glace at Drew who pretends to look offended, then at Amber who looks confused. I just wave her away and stand up. “I’ll give you crazy kids some privacy. I’m going to go wash up.”
Chapter 22
Bohemian
I’m happy to leave April and Drew alone. I know she’s going to make up a lie about what she’s been up to, and I don’t want to hear it. The whole thing is just too fucking sad.
I come out of my room a little later to retrieve my phone, and I’m surprised to see that Drew is no longer here. April’s alone at the kitchen counter, where she’s pouring sugar and cocoa powder into a jar of peanut butter. Wearing a drapey white blouse and a floor length bohemian skirt with an intricate blue design, her bracelets jangle as she stirs her concoction.
“Where’s Drew?” I ask as I sit down at the kitchen table.
“He left,” she says without turning around. “I told him I was tired from work and I wanted to go to bed early. Can you believe he just showed up like that? I told him I was busy with you. It’s like, how clingy can you get? And he said he came over to bring me a salad—that was his excuse for showing up.” She turns and picks up the white paper bag that Drew brought over, holding it up like it’s something repulsive. “Ugh, how pathetic is that?” She flings it in the trash, then pulls a pack of sour patch kids out of her shirt pocket and proceeds to mix them into the peanut butter.
“So who have you been smoking pot with?” I
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