Page 46 of The ABCs of You & Me

I shake my head. “Nope. They’re long skinny white mushrooms.”

He grabs a pencil, and as fast as he can manage, he draws what looks like a very elongated sperm, or very skinny penis and I have to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing.

“Not quite. Here.” I take the pencil and draw a less phallic mushroom.

“Huh,” he says, his head moving this way and that as he studies it. “What does it taste like?”

“Not much, actually,” I admit after taking a minute to think. “They have a fun texture, though.”

My phone vibrates, and I look down, hoping to see Sophie’s name. My heart sinks when I see that it’s only a message from my sister.

TWENTY-TWO

SOPHIE

You’re being ridiculous, I scold my reflection in the microwave. It’s Wednesday night, and I haven’t seen or talked to Foster since he left my house on Sunday. Today, I was back at the school and managed to avoid him all day. Five minutes ago, his name popped up on my phone, and I haven’t had the nerve to open it yet.

It’s not his fault that my parents don’t know the full extent of my past relationship or breakup. It’s not his fault he doesn’t, either. I know if I told him, he’d go to the ends of the earth to protect me from future pain. I think he’d do that anyway, even without the full story, because that’s who Foster Walsh is.

The microwave beeps, and I’m pulled out of my little spiral.

Three days of no Foster has not been fun. And not because I miss his face, which I do—he has a very nice face. But I miss how I feel when he’s around, like the world isn’t tilting and I’m racing to keep from falling off.

I abandon my reheated lasagna, suddenly disgusted by the sight of it after multiple days of eating it hot or cold for every meal. Flopping down on the couch, I stare down at my phone, willing myself to see the message without actually opening it. If he sees I’ve read it then I don’t respond, it will be worse. And Idowant to respond. I just don’t want to get into all the shit with Gregory and my parents and me quite frankly. I’m not ready to show Foster what an idiot I was for five years of my life.

The phone screen blurs as I stare at it until it goes dark. Cass’s name appears moments later, lighting it up and causing me to blink rapidly to clear my vision.

Cass

I’m coming to Easter!

Aren’t your parents doing something?

Obvs, but my uncle will be there so fuck that.

I remember meeting her whole family a couple times when I was a kid and wondering how Foster and Cass were related to some of them.

My mom invited Foster too.

Why?

I mean, awesome but how the hell did that come about?

He was over for dinner when she was here on Sunday night. He said he was going home though.

Well now I feel bad.

He can still come.

He’ll make an appearance at home regardless. He feels obligated to and shit. Plus our grandmother will be there and he feels bad that he doesn’t see her enough.

Damn, I love their grandmother so much. I’d be going too if I were him.

There seems to be no escaping thinking about Foster so I finally open his message. It’s a meme of two chocolate bunnies, one missing its ass and the other missing its ears. A classic.

Never gets old.

I watch the three dots of his reply appear and then disappear over and over again, my anxiety amping up in the meantime.

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