Page 40 of Oh, Hell No

Winslet

I took a deep breath before opening my apartment door after hearing the doorbell. Time to get through this.

Toby had sent me a string of text last night, which I ignored. This morning, however, I had read them and found that he planned on bringing me breakfast and coffee. Just peachy. We’d get to eat together too.

With the best smile I could muster after just one cup of coffee, I opened the door to see Toby holding a tray with not just two cups, but three, along with a white paper bag under his arm. He also held another bag, this one plastic, in his other hand. He was smiling sheepishly.

“Uh, I might have gone overboard, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted, and I got your text after I bought the food,” he replied.

I had told him that a chocolate chip muffin would suffice and thanked him. It seemed he had brought a buffet instead. Istepped back to let him inside, which I had not been planning on, but he’d brought the food to me so that meant we weren’t eating in his truck.

“Sorry about that,” I replied. “I went to bed early last night. My head had hurt, and that stomach virus had kind of taken it out of me. I’m not a hundred percent yet.”

He walked inside, his eyes doing a scan of my body as he did so. I saw his throat bob as he swallowed, and I decided I shouldn’t have chosen the shorts. I should have gone with the longer skirt. But it was going to be in the high eighties today, and I didn’t want to be hot.

I also didn’t want Toby thinking that the way I was dressed was in any way meant to impress him. This was a means to staying cool. That was it.

“Don’t apologize. This will all keep in the fridge. We can eat what we want, then tuck the rest away for later.”

If he meant my fridge, then it would only be me eating anything later. I didn’t like his insinuation that he would be walking back inside my apartment again. Because this was a one-and-done situation.

He sat the bags on the counter, then began to pull things out and place them so that they were in fact buffet-style. My gaze went to the three cups. I wanted to know which one was mine so I could have it. This entire activity was exhausting me, and we hadn’t even started. I had woken up this morning after another naughty dream about Oz and had to take out Oz Jr. from the nightstand to get some relief.

“Luckily, when I stopped by the bakery, I picked up one of every muffin they had out, and chocolate chip was one of them.” He beamed at me.

That was at least a bit of good news. I did enjoy a good bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich in the morning, but my stomach still wasn’t ready for that much food. The chocolate chip muffin wassomething I could nibble, and, well, if it was chocolate, I would always eat it.

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to gape at the array of food he had set out. “Wow, you did get it all.”

He let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I got started and couldn’t seem to stop. The doughnuts were fresh. They had just pulled them out and are still warm if you want a taste of one.”

I peeked over to see if there were any chocolate ones, but they all looked simply glazed. “I’d better not. I am not sure how much my stomach is ready for, and I don’t want to ruin the day by making myself feel sick before we even get there.” Although if there had been a chocolate one, I’d have taken the chance.

“Oh, and this is your coffee,” he said, taking one of the cups and holding it out to me. “I, uh, also got you what I always get there. It’s a matcha tea, infused with lavender. It’s amazing. Thought you might want to try it.”

I wasn’t nauseous, but if he kept talking, I might be. I managed a smile and put my cup to my mouth to cover my grimace.

No thank you, Toby.

I found matcha nasty, and adding lavender to it? Who the heck wanted to drink something with lavender? I mean, I loved a good lavender bath soak and even a lavender candle, but I wasn’t about to drink the crap.

He seemed disappointed that I didn’t snatch up his suggested drink and try it. He was going to need to move past that. I was a nice person and all, but I was not a people pleaser. If I didn’t want to try something, I wasn’t going to. One of the perks of being an adult.

“Here’s the chocolate chip muffin. There is also blueberry, cranberry orange, banana nut, and a cinnamon and sugar one.”

I took the chocolate chip one without even giving the others a glance.It’s all about the chocolate, dude.

There was a good chance I was going to break open a bottle of wine at five tonight and drink it all. Toby was too much of everything. He was trying so hard to impress me, but when you weren’t attracted to someone, it didn’t change anything.

I’d listened to him tell me about his baseball fame, which had ended with a shoulder injury his sophomore year in college. He had lost his full-ride scholarship and had to go to a more affordable school that his parents could help him pay for. It was then he had decided to teach. He had always thought he was headed for the major leagues and hadn’t planned on anything else.

He had finished his long autobiography by saying he now knew it had been God’s will. He was supposed to teach young minds, and he felt this job was more fulfilling. I wanted to call bullshit on that, but I refrained.

I wasn’t against the God’s will mantra, but I also didn’t exactly believe that was the case every time. I didn’t think God gave us injuries to stop us from following a lifelong dream. I thought bad things happened, and we found a way to survive it. Just like I didn’t think that children dying of cancer was God’s will—because if that was the case, then I didn’t like the man, or God, or whatever his proper description was. Because if I believed that, then I’d have to believe that it was God’s will that my mother became an alcoholic and forgot to feed us, left us for days at a time, abused us, and eventually fell to her death in a drunken stupor. I refused to think that way. Mom had chosen that life. She’d given in to her addiction and not wanted to get help or fight it for her kids or herself. It’d had nothing to do with God.

Toby brought me over to the milk bottle ring toss so that he could show off his skills, I assumed. Each booth was sponsoredby one of the church or school departments. It was their biggest fundraiser of the year. This specific game was sponsored by the school’s athletic department, so of course it had the best prize. The booster club at MCS consisted of wealthy parents who wanted the football, baseball, and basketball teams to have the best. They weren’t real concerned about volleyball or softball, I had noticed, seeing as they didn’t have new uniforms and the best equipment.

There were many games with stuffed animal prizes, but the booster club had taken it up another notch, it seemed, and because of it, the cost to play this game was a whopping six dollars for three rings. That was steep for a church festival game. The other games were five tries for three dollars. Their prizes were cheaper and bought in bulk.

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