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It’ll be thirty minutes before the food is delivered, so I lay back down on the couch. Picking up the remote, I flip through the channels, settling on an old Cartoon Network episode of Totally Spies.
Cupping my hands under my head I watch the show until the food arrives. Sage is still in the shower, because I swear he’s trying to burn his skin off. Or at least rid himself of every trace of work. I wish he’d open up to me, and talk about why he really won’t quit. I know it has to be something more, not anything bad, but it’s like he’s scared to go somewhere else.
Grabbing the food from the delivery guy, who recognizes me at this point, I pull all the to-go boxes from the restaurant down the street, popping open the lid on the nachos I ordered. For some reason I’ve been craving them. I scoop out a chip, popping it in my mouth.
“Mmm,” I moan, it’s as good as I hoped it’d be. “So yummy,” I speak to myself, doing a little shimmy for good measure.
I fix myself a plate of nachos and carry the to-go box with a cheeseburger over to the couch. I’m starving and not waiting for Sage.
I’ve only eaten a quarter of my burger when he finally joins me. He grabs his food and sits beside me, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. He doesn’t lower his legs this time like he sometimes does, as if he can hear Mom scolding him.
He takes a bite of the burger I ordered him, some barbeque sauce smearing his lip, and wipes it away. After he’s swallowed, he says to me in a soft, guilty tone, “I’m really sorry I had to go back to work today.”
I give a small shrug. I didn’t want to be alone, but I wasn’t going to beg him to stay. Lachlan stopping by actually helped some.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” He angles his body toward me. “Every time I turn around I’m doing the wrong thing. It’s not like you needed to come home for the hell of it. What happened today was fucking awful, D, and I know you probably won’t stop thinking about it and I … left you.”
“Please, don’t feel guilty.” Sage already carries too much worry and guilt.
He lowers his feet to the ground and leans forward, placing the Styrofoam container on the table. “I can’t help but feel it. As soon as I left here I felt like the biggest piece of shit ever, but I knew if I didn’t go I’d probably be fired.”
“Not to beat a dead horse or anything, but quit.”
He chuckles, but there’s not a trace of humor in it. “Maybe I will.” My brows shoot up in surprise since he was arguing only a bit ago about it being a job and what he had to deal with. “I was thinking during my shower,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think I’ve held on so tightly to this job because I wanted something to stay the same when everything else is different, but it’s fucking stupid to keep doing this to myself.”
“It is.” I chew on another nacho.
He works his lips back and forth. “I think I’m going to put in my notice and look for something else. I deserve better than this and so do you. You need a brother who’s here for you and I haven’t been.”
“Sage,” I say sadly, “you’ve done the best you can.”
He smiles at me sadly, but there’s a twinkle in his eye—an excitement. “But I can do better.”
When he cracks a grin, my heart feels the teeny tiniest bit better.
Chapter Forty-Four
The next day Sage enters the apartment, cursing under his breath. The door slams closed behind him and I look up from the couch where I was curled up with the last book Lachlan leant me.
“What’s wrong?” I shove everything off of me, hurrying to his side, thinking maybe he’s hurt or something.
He left for work more than an hour ago and surely if he was hurt he’d go to the hospital, not come home. He could be sick though.
He throws his hands up. “I put in my notice and was fired. Stupid, fucking, pompous, asshole!” He rages, shoving mail from the day before off the kitchen counter. Gripping the counter he pants out shallow breaths. “Growing up is a fucking trap. Don’t do it, Weed.”
“Everything will be okay.”
He pinches his lips. “It will be,” he says after a moment, “but right now I’m fucking pissed.” Placing his hands on his hips, he cocks his head to the side. “I’m gonna change and we’re going to go somewhere.”
I look out the window at the snow flurries. “But it’s cold.”
Sage rolls his eyes. “You act like you’ve never lived through winter.” He starts down the hall, calling behind him, “Get changed.”
I look down at my sweatpants and sweatshirt, frowning. I don’t want to get dressed in ‘real’ clothes. I want to be comfy and hangout here. But I know Sage isn’t going to rest until he gets me out of the house.
Closing myself in my room, I change into jeans, a heavy sweater, and winter boots. Sage is already by the front door, shoving his arms into his coat. I grab mine, doing the same.
