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I’d wanted those adventures he’d promised, damnit.
But it looked like that wasn’t going to be possible anymore.
That fact had no right to send me into the downward spiral it did.
But there was no denying that was exactly what happened.
“Catie with a C and ie, do you copy? Over,” a familiar voiced echoed through my makeshift home, making me lift my head from the tile floor I was currently spread across in an attempt to cool myself down.
I always thought that I liked summer.
Until, of course, I had to endure it without the luxury of air conditioning.
I’d been sprawled out on the cold tile floor in my panties and bra since the sun came up, baking my home that didn’t have nearly enough ventilation to make it even remotely tolerable.
And water was such a luxury since it needed to be gathered and then filtered, a process that was dangerous and arduous, so I wasn’t about to use it to spritz over myself for relief.
I was half-sure I was hallucinating from my brain frying. The science behind that was unknown to me, but my head sure felt hot enough to actually start cooking braincells.
“Come in, come in, Catie with a C and ie. Over,” the voice called again, and that time I folded upward.
Over.
No one said over.
Unless…
I didn’t even think about it.
I flew up off the floor and through the building toward the Ham radio Caleb had set up in my kitchen.
I grabbed the little microphone thingy like a lifeline, pressing the button.
“Caleb with an x and qt, is that you?” I asked. Then, when he didn’t respond, “Over.”
“It is I, fair maiden,” he responded. “Over.”
“Is your brain frying from the heat too?” I asked. “And I think we can skip the wholeoverthing since it’s just the two of us.”
And what did this man do?
Start hummingJust the Two of Us.
I was half-tempted to join in.
That was how giddy I was that he was still alive.
“Nah, Apocalypse Barbie. Rich dude has this place rigged up to stay cool in the summer. And I have the basement in the worst case. Stays a solid sixty there, no matter how hot it gets. You suffering?”
“If you call lying on the stone floor in my underwear suffering, then yes.”
“Which brings me to my idea.”
“Your idea?” I prompted when he didn’t go on.
“Well, actually, it was Toddy’s idea,” he clarified. “He thinks we should have a beach day.”
“Yourcatwants to have abeachday?” I asked, smiling at the absurdity.
