Page 91 of Fight For Us
I was halfway there when my phone buzzed.
Tiger:Dumb question, but do you know why the Wi-Fi isn’t working?
Fuck. I knew I’d forgotten something during the chaos of moving. I guess I could live without that shit, so it didn’t cross my mind. I grabbed the phone and started to text back, but a car honked. I must have swerved into their lane. Fucking phone.
I tossed the thing into the passenger seat and left it there the whole time I was at the gym.
By the time I got home, I had worked off some of my pissy attitude and felt like shit for ignoring Olivia’s text. The house was quiet and she was in bed, scrolling on her phone. At myfootsteps, she lifted her head to meet my gaze. I couldn’t read her expression, but it wasn’t a happy one.
“Hey,” I said, pulling off my sweaty shirt and tossing it in the hamper.
“Hey.” She went back to whatever she was looking at on her phone. “How was the gym?”
“Good. I’m gonna hop in the shower.” Before I went into the bathroom, I grabbed everything I’d need, including my crutches. “Oh, and about the Wi-Fi. I never set it up. It slipped my mind.”
She gave a curt nod. “I figured.”
“I can take care of it in the morning.” I pushed the bathroom door open and set my things down.
“Don’t bother. I’ll take care of it.”
“What’s with the tone?” I was in no mood to argue.
“Oh, I don’t know… Maybe the fact that you couldn’t text me back in the three hours you were gone.” Her voice was clipped.
“Maybe I don’t want to be attached to that fucking phone nonstop like every other zombie out there.” I sounded colder than I meant to. But I was being truthful. I hated the things.
“No one says you need to be a ‘phone zombie.’” She used air quotes when she repeated my phrase. “But a text back is common courtesy.”
“Why would you text me when you knew I was driving? Where’s the common courtesy there?”
She dropped her phone in her lap and sat up straight. “You didn’t have to look at it right away. That wouldn’t be safe.”
“That’s my point. It’s not safe. You have no idea how unsafe they are.” I rubbed on the back of my neck. “I’m gonna shower. We’ll talk later.”
Except, we didn’t talk later. When I got out of the bathroom, the lights were off and Olivia was facing the other direction. I contemplated tapping her shoulder to continue our conversation, but I was too exhausted to bother.
She’d never get why I felt the way I did. It would always be a matter of contention between us. Hell, I’d only gotten the thing because of her. She’s been lucky I’ve even carried it on me to begin with.
I watched the rise and fall of her ribcage, wishing I could be different for her. Maybe if I held her in my arms, this pissy attitude would melt away? But fuck, I doubted she wanted that, at least not without resolving our argument.
I tossed and turned for a while before finally falling asleep.
The following days were tense between us. I apologized for being a dick, but I didn’t promise I’d change regarding the phone shit. How could I promise something that I had no intention of sticking to?
Olivia’s babysitter had been home with Alex for his suspension while Lilly begged to stay home, too.
On the plus side, Olivia called a few of the private schools and set up meetings. The negative being that they still insisted they were full until the following school year. With an end in sight, maybe it would be easier for us all to breathe easier, but it wasn't ideal.
It was Lilly’s first class at the gym, and Alex and I were on our way to cheer her on for the last half. Olivia would be supervising as a volunteer assistant. I’d been curious about these classes for a while, so I was excited to see what went on in there.
Alex led me through the glass doors like he owned the place. I was instantly hit with a familiar gym smell—metal tinged with body odor, covered up by air fresheners. The place looked decent enough, nothing fancy. Red walls, concrete floors covered with rubber mats, bright overhead lighting. Electronica music pumped through speakers. But my eyes zeroed in on Olivia, standing next to Lilly, showing her how to punch a big vinyl pad.
There were about a dozen other kids in the class, looking anywhere from five years old to Lilly’s age. Some didn’t need help doing whatever their drill was. They were punching and circling their partner like synchronized dancers.
I caught Lilly’s eye and her lips perked up in a lopsided smile. Pride swelled in my chest at my two girls working together, being fierce as fuck.
The instructor, a petite woman with long dark hair tied back, stood at the front of the room. She called for Olivia to join her.
