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“Hello?” Coop tapped my arm. “Ride home?”
I hated them all. “Or…” I made a face at Coop, before looking at Bubba. “You can ride home with us—wait, don’t you have a car?”
He grinned. “I’ve been riding with Jake to practice. Seemed kind of a waste to drive to school, too, but I can.”
“Nah, we can go over to Frankie’s tomorrow,” Jake said, grinning slowly. “You two can get your math on. Afterward, Frankie and I can work on history.”
“Get caught up on dummies first,” I told him.
“I intend to.”
“Well, if we’re all going to Frankie’s tomorrow…”
“No, we are not all going to Frankie’s tomorrow,” I said abruptly before Archie could turn it into a party. My words might have come out harsher than I meant because they all went quiet. “Bubba asked me if I was free to help him with something tomorrow, and I already said yes. So, tomorrow, I’ll drop Coop off at his place. Bubba and I can go over to his house. We’ll work on math and his project, then I’m going to go home and get other stuff done.” Or eat ice cream and watch Netflix. Whatever the hell I wanted to do.
I almost asked if that was all right with all of them, but I’d bite my tongue off before I asked for their permission for a damn thing.
“Sounds like a plan,” Bubba said, a slow grin curving his lips before he claimed a blueberry muffin. “Okay, so if all the academic stuff is done, when’s our first party of the year? I don’t want Frankie to miss it.”
“Good call!” Archie had his phone out again. “What are we thinking? Back to school bash weekend after this one? Saturday night when we’re all free?” He smirked at me. Because I’d already said what my schedule was, it meant I couldn’t duck the party with the excuse I had to work.
I hated them so much.
So.
So.
Much.
* * *
I endedup having to run Bubba back to the school so Jake could give him a ride home. It was almost six before Coop and I made it back to the apartments. Mom’s car wasn’t in her parking spot under the carport, but I hadn’t expected it.
“Want to come over for dinner?” Coop asked as we got out of the car. His phone rang at the same time and Laura’s name popped up on the screen.
“I’m good,” I told him. “I’ve got some stuff to do.” Like feed my cats, review my own homework, and write up some sample essays. I didn’t know what the questions would be exactly when they opened the application process, but practice couldn’t hurt.
“Okay,” Coop said. “I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yep, you know where I’m parked.” I lifted a hand to wave at him, but I didn’t make it far enough away to avoid hearing him as he answered his phone.
“Hey Laura-babe, whatcha doing?” Or the next line. “Me? Nothing.”
Yeah.
I let myself into the quiet apartment, and barely got my backpack on the counter before Tiddles, Tabitha, and Tory assaulted me from all sides. The cats weaved against my legs and yowled their complaints. How dare I leave them all day? Where was their dinner? What a terrible human I was!
Laughing, I ran hands over each of them as I avoided tripping. They had access to dry food and water all day, both of which were more than half full. But they each got a half a can of wet in the evenings and they knew it.
It took me a couple of minutes to get the cans open and served out. In no time flat, the cats were on their meals like they lions falling on prey in the midst of a drought on the savannah.
I wondered sometimes if that was how the cats envisioned themselves. Did they see great big predators? Kind of like how I fancied myself a superhero sometimes? Or maybe a big shot reporter breaking the story of a lifetime? It was fun to fantasize about who I’d be in my favorite books or movie franchises, course those were usually focused on those great or terrible moments in their lives. We saw them at their highest or lowest, often both. We didn’t see all the boring crap in between, which was where most of us, myself included, lived our lives. Or maybe that was just me.
After feeding the cats, I got the chicken out to defrost for Tuesday evening, though I needed to text Mom I might not be home. Considering the time, she was probably on the date I wasn’t supposed to know about, so I’d text her later—closer to my bedtime. While my leftover lasagna heated, I carried my backpack to my room and changed into a sleep shirt. I had zero intention of going out again.
Dinner in tow, I set up in my room and turned on the documentary series I’d been listening to on YouTube, twenty-minute history videos excoriating historical dramas for their lack of accuracy.
Yep, I was a nerd.
