Page 58 of Not Another Yesterday
Aww, but the tips are so good...
I snorted a laugh in the lecture hall, earning me a “shh” from a studious-looking guy in the row ahead of me.
Me:
I have no comeback for this one. Seriously, though, what’s going on?
Shane:
As much as it pains me to say this, I think I’m coming down with something. I’m fucking shivering, Ran. Like, teeth chattering. Didn’t feel great this morning, but all I want is to lie down in the middle of 17thand let some Prius take me out of my misery… Do you think you can relieve me early?
Shane doesn’t bail on work. On the contrary, that guy is a damn workaholic, which I know has caused tension between him and Tori in the past. Which meant he really was feeling like death. I grabbed my stuff—not even a little sad about leaving this riveting lecture on the social orders of chimpanzees—and texted him that I was on my way home to change and take over for him.
Looking at him now, I know I made the right call. I don’t think he would’ve made it another five hours without collapsing. “You know I got you, Shay. Need me to do anything before I head out?”
His motions are sluggish as he takes off first one shoe, then the other. “Yeah, talkto Cat,” he says hoarsely.
My lips flatten. “I texted her last night.” I admit it wasn’t much of a text message. Only that I got home from work okay because I didn’t want her to be worried. Not that I thought she was.
Cat and I haven’t spoken to each other since I left her standing in my apartment after our fight two days ago. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but no good could come from me staying. We needed to step away from each other, to cool down. We were both worked up, slipping into a vicious fight. We were on the verge of saying things we could never take back. In fact, I’d already set a toe over that line. I hit below the belt. And so did she.
I hate myself for bringing up Adam. It was uncalled for, mean, just plain wrong. I know what happened with Adam wasn’t Cat’s fault, but man, when she called me a liar, I short-circuited.
My mother constantly accused me of lying, even though I never did. She’d provoke me, lay into me, get a rise out of me, then use it as a reason to hurt me. So when Cat said I was lying about her keeping secrets, it wasn’t just a disagreement. It threw me right back into a beatdown from my mom. I was defensive. Panicked. Raw. And I went low. Too low. Not a minute has gone by when I haven’t regretted bringing up Adam, haven’t regretted raising my voice at Cat like that. In a sense, this entire thing feels like a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Shane raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Texting isn’t talking.”
“You gotta tell her that. She’s the one who isn’t answering my calls.”
Neither of us tried to make contact with the other on Monday, but I did finally dial her number Tuesday afternoon. Our extended radio silence was beginning to make my skin crawl. But Cat neither picked up nor returned my call. She’s clearly pissed at me. And rightfully so. As I said, self-fulfilling prophecy. At least I know she’s alive and well from Tori, who—according to Shane’s report this morning—hung out with Cat last night.
“Tor does that to me, too,” Shane says, his blue eyes empathetic even though they’re red-rimmed with exhaustion. “When we fight?She’ll just go off-air for a few days, make me grovel and beg before she’ll give me the time of day again,” he says with a grated chuckle. “Must be a girl thing.”
“I guess it’s deserved. I was kind of a dick.” My gaze drops from Shane’s to my black chucks.
“From what Tor shared with me, Cat’s hands aren’t all that clean either.”
I lift my eyes. “Cat told Tor?”
He shrugs. “Must have. Tor was pretty well apprised of what went down between you and Cat. For what it’s worth, Tor and I have fought much worse than that.” Shane moves his hand to my shoulder. My reply dissipates as his body heat seeps through my hoodie.
“Holy shit, Shay, you’re burning up. Get the fuck to bed, man. I’m gonna get you some shit to get this fever down and then I’ll head into work.”
I usher him down the hallway where I veer into the bathroom to grab the meds.
I pop open the Tylenol and wish undoing the damage I did with Cat was as easy as swallowing a couple of pills.
Cat
A single loud knock makes me aware of my dad standing at the threshold to my room. I look up from the laptop perched on my thighs.
He holds his arm out to me with my buzzing phone in his hand. “Your boyfriend’s persistent. That’s four times in five minutes.”
My nostrils flare with a deep inhale. I move my laptop, then walk over to my dad. He tips his head, eyes narrowing as though looking over the rims of his nonexistent glasses at my leisurely pace. I’m in no hurry to take my phone from him, in no rush to answer Ronan’s call.
I’m still pissed—at his unreasonableness, his unwillingness to talk to me. As uncomfortable and painful as our fight was, and as much as I hate how we left things on Monday, I also refuse to be the first to tuck tail. I need him to understand that I meant what I said, that my feelings are valid. I’m frustrated he still won’t confide in me. I’m still confused about Miranda. And then there’s his total refusal to consider the idea of having kids with me. Why doesn’t he at least allow for that possibility? I mean, there’s no rush. Maybe in ten years? Fifteen? We’re so young, how can he make this decision for us now?
I hold my hand out to my dad, who places my phone in my palm, his eyes pinned to me. “Everything alright between you two?” he asks when I don’t follow my usual pattern and immediately return Ronan’s call.
