Page 54 of Pippin & Nacho

“Finally!” Alpha said.

“Thank fucking god!” Stix said.

I huffed a laugh into Nate’s hair. “Apparently, our friends have been impatient for this.”

When we parted, all our friends rushed in for a group hug, and Stone even smiled and got involved. Cueball and Blaze were nowhere to be found.

This was my family—all of them, not just Nate. The love pouring from these people made my eyes water a little. Their support and caring were everything. Maybe one day, I would finally get the balls to come clean with them about my past, to finally allow them to get to know the real Sampson Maguire.

I’d been working at FarmMart, a high-end organic grocery store, for three weeks now, and it paid so well. At fifteen bucks an hour, it was more money than I’d ever made. Stix also worked here and helped me get the job. I mostly spent my time stocking the shelves and prepping food in the back, which I did five days a week. The job was relatively mindless, but the money was too good to pass up.

Fridays and Saturdays were the worst. I needed to work at the grocery store, then rush home for a quick shower before Sam and I headed to work at Alpha’s for the night. By the time Sunday rolled along, I would be too tired to do much of anything, even skating. Not that I could skate anyway since my board split down the middle after crashing on a half-pipe last week, and I hadn’t replaced it yet.

Working a second job hadn’t only been hard on me, but it’d been hard on Sam. It was understandable since he loved having me around during the day, used to routine and structure, even if that structure could stress him out. If he forgot things, I would usually be there to remind him. Now he needed to rely on text messages from me, if I could even remember.

And sometimes, he’d text me several times at once with random questions. I didn’t know if he just wanted to check up on me to maintain some connection or if he really wanted to know. If I didn’t respond right away, he’d hammer me with more texts. It wasn’t easy to respond to him all the time on busy days.

But the worst of it was when I got home. Sam would be completely agitated and stressed. He didn’t like such big changes in our routines. His insecurity would peak, thinking I’d leave him because I was forced to work so much. His words. Instead of relaxing, I would have to reassure him, and once he finally calmed down, I would have to make dinner.

Sam could cook, but lately, he’d been all over the place, and had been forgetting. Neither of us liked this situation, but we needed the money. It was exhausting trying to stretch every single dollar.

He couldn’t help being stressed out, and I needed to keep reminding myself of that so I didn’t get upset with him or snap.

After dinner, things would settle down, and we would curl up on the couch, watching TV and snuggling together. Sometimes, we explored sex more. At that point, I’d finally relax.

God, I loved Sam so much, but sometimes I felt utterly alone. I had friends to talk to, but not about this. I didn’t know how to navigate working so much, helping Sam, and dealing with the negative emotions that had been plaguing me.

After working three weeks in two jobs, I quickly wore thin. This wasn’t sustainable, but there was nothing I could do. I had to work. Sam also needed more help than I could give, but how? He refused to see any doctors.

I stepped out into the spring late afternoon. It was still cool outside, but all the trees and plants slowly started to come to life. I took a deep breath of the chilly air and walked to the bus stop to take me home.

It was Saturday, so I had to head to work in a couple of hours again at Alpha’s, dreading the late night. To make matters worse, today was my twenty-first birthday.

Fuck, it wasn’t like me to be down in the dumps, but I was fucking tired. My entire body was exhausted. To boost my mood, I imagined my first paycheck next week and what kind of board I would buy. I couldn’t spend a lot of money, but I didn’t want to buy a used one this time.

As I rode the bus, I got another text from Sam. I sighed and swiped my phone open.

Sam: What time are you going to be home?

Me: I’m on my way.

Sam: You’re on the bus?

Me: Yep.

Sam: I missed you.

Me: I missed you, too.

Sam: Happy birthday!

He sent me several partying emojis, which made me laugh and feel a little better. I loved that he always remembered.

When I stepped through the door, I found Sam waiting for me with a massive smile and the pent-up energy of a toddler wanting all the candy in the grocery aisle.

“Happy birthday!”

My laugh was tired as he lunged at me and pulled me into a hug. “Thanks, baby.”

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