Page 268 of The Trouble With Bad Boys

Twelve

SHELBY

I looked up watching as my cousin made herself at home at my place. Carley was the same age as me, but older by a few months. Because of our close proximity in age, and the fact that our parents were inseparable, we’d seen plenty of each other growing up. At times, she was more like a sister to me than cousin which likely explained our often adversarial relationship.

Carley was also very unmotivated in life. I’d had the drive to go to school and try to make something of myself, while she stayed in Los Angeles to party and hang out with all the people I was thankful to get away from. She bounced around from job to job while I’d been studying, but had never been able to hold one down. To come all this way, she had to have wanted something from me.

“When are you going to tell me why you’re here?” I asked her while still watching her as she rummaged through my refrigerator for something to eat. When she didn’t even look up, I sighed in frustration. “Are you going to answer me?”

Carley’s head popped up at that point, and she turned to stare at me over her shoulder. “You’re out of ranch dressing. How in the hell am I going to eat this rabbit food without it?”

“That’s not what I asked,” I reminded her, then stood up and walked over to her. I grabbed the individually packaged salad from her hands and put it back onto the shelf. “And this is my lunch for tomorrow. Find something else to eat.”

Carley huffed, then turned. “I’ll just order a pizza. What’s your credit card number?”

“What? I’m not giving you that,” I told her, especially upon remembering that she’d filed for bankruptcy not even two years prior.

“I have the cash, but the local pizzeria requires a credit card to deliver.”

I looked at her suspiciously, but she walked over to her purse, then pulled out a wad of cash. Most looked to be smaller bills, but it still made me arch my brow at her. “Where did you get all of that?”

“That’s nunya,” she told me, and while it wasn’t my business, it sort of was since she decided to crash at my place unannounced, and more importantly, uninvited.

“Carley, I–”

“It’s the money I left Los Angeles with.” That still didn’t answer my question so my expression remained unchanged. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s all legit. It’s what’s left of my last paycheck.”

I exhaled. “Why couldn’t you have just said that?”

“I don’t understand why you’re so worried about everything. If you won’t order my pizza, I’ll just borrow your keys and go pick it–”

“No, I’ll order it for you. I just have some questions is all.”

“Can we talk more about this after I’ve eaten something? I feel like my blood sugar is dropping.”

Carley had always struggled with hypoglycemia growing up, and I hadn’t noticed her eating since she arrived a few days before. Throwing up my hands, I relented and pulled up the online app for the pizzeria. “What do you want?”

She smiled, and began to rattle off a myriad of toppings before smiling at me. “And go ahead and order yourself a pizza too, Cuz.”

I hadn’t planned to, but since she offered to pay and I was somewhat hungry myself, I ordered a margherita pizza for myself. After paying for the order, I sat back down. Carley threw two twenties down onto the table, and I picked them up. It wasn’t as if I truly needed them and as I held them in my hand, I thrust them back toward her.

“Go ahead and keep this,” I told her.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to accuse me of freeloading.”

“I’m sure,” I told her, then realized she was right. All I’d been was suspicious since her arrival. “And you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Just because I don’t have some fancy-smancy business and condo of my own, it doesn’t mean I’m a deadbeat.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. Your showing up was just unexpected.”

“Can’t I visit my favorite cousin?”

“Well, I’m your only cousin,” I pointed out.

“Which is even more reason to be here. Did it say how long the pizza would take?”

“I think about forty five minutes,” I responded.

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