Page 23 of Call the Shots
I headed up the stairs for the second floor but froze when I pushed open the door. “What thehell?”
Cleo huffed. “What is it now?”
I watched, dumbfounded, as Laki dragged Nick down the hallway. Nick scratched at the carpet, desperately trying to gain purchase. “June!”
“He fucked my sister-in-law!” Laki roared. “It’s disrespectful!”
I inched my way down the hallway, phone to my ear. “Hockey players are horny, deranged dogs. How did we get involved, Cleo?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking of postponing the wedding.”
“What?No! Everything’s going to be…” I trailed off, staring at the wet puddle in front of my door. “Uh…”
“Whatnow?”
“Nothing,” I assured her, my voice high-pitched. “You’re not postponing your wedding!” I gave a quick goodbye and shoved my key in the lock. The door opened, sloshing out water to the hallway. My mouth fell open. “What the hell?!”
With a chugging sound, bubbly water poured from the dishwasher. How could a dishwasher even flood like that?! I struggled with the buttons, but nothing stopped it.
There was only one person to blame—and here I thought I’d have a nice roommate-free day. I shoved open Bear’s door to see him stretched on his bed, computer up to his chin, bulky headphones over his ears. His eyes flickered to me, and he frowned.
“Asshole, get up!”
He pulled off the headphones. “What?”
“You flooded the dorm!”
“Huh?” He glanced over the bed. “Oh,shit.”
Soapy water pumped out and I hurried to put things on high places before I burst into my room. Unlike Bear, I didn’t enjoy throwing crap around, my floor was clean. The only thing that made my stomach drop was the strapless dress that was supposed to be on its hanger. It was always on my closet door—my weight goal dress. The first thing I saw every morning, pink and perfect. It must’ve fallen off the hanger.
With a whimper, I picked up the wet lump of fabric. “Mydress.”
Bear barged in with towels. “Fuck, where do I put these?”
“Don’t worry about that, unplug everything!” I pulled boxes from under my bed. “What did youdo?”
“No idea!”
I stacked things on the kitchen island, swearing under my breath. During the summer, maintenance took forever, and Bear needed to make the callnow. I was about to tell him when I saw Bear, holding up a polaroid.
His eyes slid from the picture to me.
Silence hung amid the unsteadyca-lunkof the dishwasher. I didn’t know what to say.
One of my naked polaroids was in Bear’s hand.
I had nine of them left, all old presents for Xavier that would never, ever get to the intended recipient. That also meant they were pictures of Before June, laying on his couch, winking at thecamera. Before I whacked off my hair with the kitchen shears. Before I holed myself up in my house for months. Before I was two sizes bigger.
I struggled to speak. “I—um?—”
Bear tore up the photo.
I watched in stunned silence as he ripped the polaroid into meticulously small pieces, a determined curve to his mouth. When he reached for the next one, it jolted me into action. I yanked the box away from him, the box I kept hidden.
“What are youdoing?!”
“Getting rid of these,” he insisted.
