Page 39 of Good Boy

That poor kid, knitting her brother a hat in October in case she doesn’t make it to December.

Life really sucks sometimes.

Chapter 13

Crankiness Makes Sense

Jess

Jamie isn’t home from work yet, but I let myself into the apartment with the spare key they gave me. He told me via text to get dinner started if I felt like it, and although I don’t feel like it, I do it anyway. He and Wes are nice enough to let me come over and eat their food every other night, so I might as well contribute in any way I can.

Not having money sucks. My bank account is like a horror movie—I can’t check the balance without screaming. The student loans I took out allow me a certain amount for living expenses, but I’m being extra stingy with those funds, buying only the bare necessities.

I had a friend in college who had a ton of cash left over from her loan (because she couldn’t be bothered to buy any textbooks), and she blew it on manicures and hair appointments. We all kept telling her it wasn’t free money and that loans need to be repaid. She didn’t listen, and now she’s paying the price in the form of insanely high interest rates. I, on the other hand, am going to be smart about this. There’s no such thing as free money. Anything extra, I’m keeping in my savings account and using to pay the sharks back.

Though I suppose buying groceries for Jamie and Wes every now and then would probably make me less of a dick for eating all their food.

I’m chopping up a green pepper at the counter when the front door creaks open. “In here!” I call out. “How do you feel about fajitas?”

“I feel awesome about fajitas!”

I freeze midchop. That’s not Jamie’s voice. Or Wes’s. Nope, it’s—

“J-Babe!” Blake looks delighted to see me as he lumbers into the kitchen.

“Hi,” I say, hoping my reluctance doesn’t show on my face. I don’t know if I can handle this man’s ceaseless energy right now, not when I’m feeling so low.

I’ve encountered Blake too often for my comfort this month, which was inevitable given that I’ve taken to hiding out here. Blake practically lives in this condo (I honestly don’t know how Wes and my brother haven’t killed him yet), so the four of us have hung out a lot. Oddly enough, he hasn’t hit on me, not even once. I guess he was serious about the ball being in my court. Or maybe it’s because Jamie and Wes are always around.

“You look hot enough to fuck.”

Yup, obviously the latter. The big lug wouldn’t dream of saying something like that in front of his teammate and my brother.

“You need to work on your conversation skills,” I tell him.

“Naw. I make great conversation.”

He wanders over to the counter and props one hip against it. Even slouched over like that, he still towers over me, and I can’t help but eye the way his sweatpants ride low on his hips and admire every ripple on his chest under his faded gray T-shirt.

“And I mean it,” he adds. “You look gloriously fuckable. Shall we retire to our chair?”

Despite myself, a laugh pops out. That makes his green eyes light up.

“A laugh? Oh yeah, I’m totally getting some tonight.”

I resume my chopping. “I’m sorry to inform you that you’re not. I’m just here to eat.”

“Me too. I like eating. Food, but also other things. I’m a voracious eater, Jessie.”

I snicker.

“Holy cannoli! Another laugh? I’m on fire tonight.”

He’s so ridiculous, it’s impossible not to smile, but my good humor doesn’t last long. I’ve cut up enough peppers, and now it’s time to dice an onion. But the fake tears it brings to my eyes confuse my already depressed mind, and suddenly I’m blinking back real tears.

“I skipped class,” I blurt out.

“Abrupt subject change,” Blake remarks.

---