Page 22 of In a Pinch

I scoff at her response, but a little piece of me finds pleasure that other people can see through my dad’s shit.

“Cal wishes he could cook like me.” Wanting to turn the conversation to a place that doesn’t make me feel rage or guilt, I ask her, “What brings you in tonight, shortcake?”

Theo drops her drink off, winks at me, and walks off. What was that for?

“Shortcake?”

“Yeah, you’re short and you’ve got red hair. The nickname was made for you. You’ve got a nickname for me, it’s only fair you get one, too.

“You don’t have a nickname?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve referred to me as Prince Charming more than once.”

“Yeah, I meant that as an insult, since you walk around acting all entitled and pretentious and shit.” She waves her hand in the air, trying to get out the right words.

“I do not act like that.”

Theo reappears just in time to answer in unison with Addie: “Yes, you do.”

“Maybe your name is supposed to be an insult, too.” Well, maybe Iamgrumpy outside of work, too. Theo replaces my beer with a new one. “You’re supposed to be on my side.” Whatever happened to bros first?

“Sorry, brother, I only side with the truth.” Theo shrugs as I shoot him daggers. Some friend. Addie, of course, finds him hilarious, and her laughter lights up the place.

“You never answered my question, by the way.” I look at Addie.

“Oh, yeah. Well, Isla and Cal are doing Valentine’s Day night in. Apparently, it is their thing. And staying in with a couple whoare just waiting for the right moment to rip each other’s clothes off harshly reminds you of exactly how single you are. So, I decided to make myself scarce. Possibly not come home ‘til the sun comes up, just to be safe.”

I can’t help but laugh. Isla and Cal are the type of disgusting in love, and I hate it. I can’t imagine having to live with that.

“You laugh, but if you see me on a park bench in the morning, check in to make sure I don’t have frostbite.” She takes a hearty sip of her beer and settles into the stool.

A chuckle finds its way out of me from her dramatics. “What made you take a job with Tyler?”

“After an unfortunate turn of events, it was looking like my only option. And starting over wasn’t sounding so bad, either.” She heaves out a big sigh before chugging more of her beer.

I fail to hide the shock from my face. “Yeah, I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

“Well, I got laid off—or fired, depending on who you ask—and was having a hard time finding a new job. Then, my roommate and her boyfriend wanted to move in together. They asked me to move out, making me homeless. Since I had nothing really left going for me in Colorado, it seemed like a good time to dip, dip potato chip right of out there.”

What the fuck is dip, dip potato chip? Where does she come up with this shit?

“I see.”

“And my sister is pregnant, and everyone around me is getting married and having babies, and the only thing I can do effectively is avoid commitment by choosing complete and total asshats. So, the only thing I could do to mix up my life and feel even relatively successful is leave.” She then chugs the rest of her beer and buries her face in her hands.

I’m not going to lie, I have the emotional intelligence of a grapefruit. I have no idea how to comfort people, and I feel likethis chick is two seconds away from crying. So, I need to muster up some words or I’m going to be a human tissue.

“Life isn’t a race, and there is no line to determine whether or not you're winning or unsuccessful. Everyone is different. Look at me with my family. Chase your happy and fuck the rest. It’ll figure itself out.”

She raises her head up and sends me a small smile. It’s a heavy smile, like it’s taking all her willpower to put it there, but it’s there, nonetheless.

“Thanks, Sam. That was very overshare-y of me. I’m sorry.”

“You had to sit through my family dinner, which was made uncomfortable at my own expense. It’s only fair you make me uncomfortable back.” I smile, hoping she catches on that it’s a joke. When her fist meets my arm, I can’t help but laugh.

“Want to see who can chug a beer faster?” she asks.

“Bring it, shortcake.” I want so badly to be annoyed by her, but something about her draws me in and holds me there.

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