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“First of all, I’d have years before I have to cross that bridge,” I tell her, “And second, I mean…I guess I would just tell them the truth, that a friend gave me an amazing gift.”
“Oh, you sappy bitch,” Cassidy laughs, “That’s-yeah, that’s beautiful.”
I let out a sheepish little giggle. “Made it up on the spot. But yeah, it’s important to tell kids that all families are different anyway, so this would be the same thing.”
“You’re gonna be a good mom, Mars,” she sighs, and I can picture her shaking her head, “But I don’t know if this is the best idea.”
“Can it really hurt to ask? If they seem weirded out or something, I’ll just tell them they don’t have to say yes.”
I know that if that’s the case, I risk putting a weird wedge between us, but I can’t imagine anything truly messing up my friendship with Corey and Andrei. While some of the members of our friend group have kind of come and gone over the years, Corey and Andrei have been by my side since I was fourteen.
Cassidy and I went back a little further, having been best friends since I moved here in eighth grade. 13, chubby, with coke-bottle glasses and a bad haircut, I was far from popular even at my old school. And moving to a new school is hard even for popular kids.
But Cassidy had quickly taken me under her wing, forming an inseparable bond, and when we got to high school and met Corey and Andrei, something in me just knew that these people would be part of my life for the rest of it.
“I guess,” Cassidy says, “Look, Mars, I won’t try to stop you or anything, I’m just saying I think you might be better off going through the professionals. Keep any weird emotional stuff out of it, you know?”
“Yeah, you’ve got a valid point,” I agree, “And I’ll consider it. But you won’t think I’m too crazy if I do it?”
“Nah. And I’ve got to admit, you’d make damn cute babies with either one of them.”
I laugh, but my face feels like it’s a million degrees, the old crush-y feelings rearing their ugly head.
But I try and ignore them and Cassidy and I move on to other topics, chatting for a while before finally hanging up, excited about tomorrow.
After I’ve hung up, my mind wanders back to Corey and Andrei. The guys had been there for me through everything. When I’d gotten an early period in class and bled through my pants, Corey had noticed before anyone else saw and given me his jacket to cover up.
When my grandfather had died and my parents sent me to school the next day, Andrei had taken one look at my face and pulled me into a janitor’s closet so I could fall apart without the whole school seeing. He’d held me for an hour and a half while I cried, missing his first two classes.
When my twenty-first birthday led to me getting a little out of control, Corey held my hair back when I puked and helped me wash my face and brush my teeth afterwards. Andrei carried me to bed and tucked me in, and they both stayed until I fell asleep, leaving me with a glass of water, a bottle of ibuprofen, and a trash can within easy reach. Then they’d slept on my couch so they could keep an eye on me throughout the night.
They’re already like family, so maybe asking this of them isn’t so weird.
Chapter Three
Corey
“Hey babe, can you come here, please?”
I hear my boyfriend calling me from the kitchen and head down the hall, the rag I’ve been dusting with still gripped in hand. “What’s up, everything ok?”
Andrei had sounded calm, but that means relatively little. The last time I’d been calmly summoned into the kitchen like this, I’d come in to see the entire room splattered with blood.
Fortunately it had all come from a relatively small cut on one of his fingertips, he’d just shaken his hand in a reaction of surprise. But even so, it had been more than a little alarming.
This time, however, there’s no horror show meeting me, just my handsome man with a chicken breast in hand and a lock of his dark hair stuck to the sweat on his face, blocking his eyes. “Can you help with this?” he asks, gesturing to the hair awkwardly with his shoulder, “Sorry, I just didn’t want to have to stop, wash my hands, fix my hair, wash my hands AGAIN, and then go back to cooking.”
I laugh. “Understandable,” I tell him, then brush the hair from his face, smoothing the dark curls back, “Maybe you should keep growing it so you can put it in a ponytail.”
He makes a face and shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Aww, you sure?” I run my fingers through his hair, gathering what I can into a stumpy little tail at the nape of his neck and tugging it, “Seems like it could be fun.”
He lets out a little growl when I pull his hair that makes my blood rush south. “You saying you want me to grow one?” he asks with a smirk.
“Maybe a little,” I admit, “I think you’d look pretty fucking sexy. And I wouldn’t complain about having more of you to hang onto,” I tug his head back by the little ponytail nub and brush my lips over his.
He groans into my mouth, and when I pull away, I know there’s a smug grin on my face. “You just love fucking with me when I’m helpless, don’t you?” he remarks, gesturing to the raw chicken ‘goo’ on his hands.
