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“I’ll think about it,” I hedged.
Once the door closed behind her, I dropped my head to the kitchen table and groaned. Fuck, I was tired. What I really wanted to do was go crawl into the bed I’d neglected last night and sleep with no alarm set so I could wake up when I was actually ready. Instead, I pushed myself to my feet and headed to the shower.
The next few days were pretty much repeats of the days before. When I wasn’t working—which was rare—I took the time to paint my toenails and do my laundry. Super exciting. Maybe Nana was right, and Iwastoo young to be working my life away but I was determined to stick with my plan even though it gave me no social life. I had plenty of time to spend with friends when I was done with school and working a job that paid more than minimum wage.
When Friday finally came along, I woke up with a little more bounce to my step and I tried to pretend that it wasn’t because I was going to see Rumi that night. The day passed like everything was moving in slow motion and I had to keep myself from snapping when difficult customers came through my line. By the time I got off work, I practically ran to my car.
“You look like shit,” I muttered, checking myself out in the rearview mirror.
I quickly wiped under my eyes to make sure that my makeup hadn’t rubbed off, but unfortunately the dark circles wouldn’t go away. I needed sleep for that. A lot of sleep. Giving up, I threw my car into reverse and headed to Rumi’s. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen me looking worse. I’d gotten chicken pox when we were fifteen and that hadn’t scared him away.
When I pulled up in front of Rumi’s place, I was surprised to find it completely dark and his truck missing. Grabbing my phone out of my backpack, I checked it to make sure I hadn’t missed any calls from him, but there was nothing. The last text he’d sent me was the day before, telling me that he needed to do laundry so bad that he’d started going commando to work and if he didn’t wash or buy some underwear soon, he was going to start chafing.
He didn’t have a washer and dryer at his house, so I called to see if he was at the Laundromat but he didn’t answer. Then I texted him asking the same thing.
I sat outside his house for fifteen minutes, waiting to hear back. Had he forgotten that we were supposed to hang out? We’d texted about it during the week, so I didn’t think he’d forget, but I couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t home. He’d gotten off work hours before.
With a curse, I finally backed out of his driveway and went home. I was sure that there was a reason that he wasn’t there and I really hoped that there hadn’t been some kind of emergency. Rumi always called if he needed to break plans. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d stood me up. I tried not to think that it was happening because shit had changed between us, but I couldn’t stop my mind from going there.
“Hey, I thought you were hanging out at Rumi’s tonight?” Bird greeted when I walked in the door.
“Guess not,” I said with a sigh.
“That sucks.”
“No big deal,” I murmured with a shrug. “What are you doing?”
“Designing a board game,” he replied with a grin.
“You’re such a fucking nerd.”
“You wish you could be me,” he shot back proudly. “Did you eat? Nana left pizza in the fridge for you.”
“Where are they?” I asked, making a beeline for the fridge. I was actually starving. I’d assumed me and Rumi would order something like we usually did.
“They went to the club,” Bird replied, going back to his piece of graph paper. “I convinced them that I’m old enough to stay by myself so they went to hang with the oldies.”
“They probably won’t even come home tonight,” I joked around the massive piece of pizza in my mouth. “Fuck, this is good.”
“At least they have a room there,” Bird said with a shrug. “It’s like a little home away from home.”
“I used to think it was so weird that Pop had a room there.”
“Me too!” Bird said, his head popping back up. “Like, what the heck?”
I laughed. “It’s a thing.” I shrugged.
“I’m glad Pop doesn’t expect me to follow in his footsteps,” Bird said, leaning back in his chair. “That place is like a cult.”
“It is not.”
“They’ve got their supreme leader,” Bird said, lifting up one finger. “They go into lockdown when there’s some scary threat.” He lifted another finger. “Pop can’t do shit without their permission.” He lifted a third finger.
“It’s definitely a lifestyle,” I cut him off dryly. “But do you really think Pop could be brainwashed by some cult leader? That blows your theory right out of the water.”
“Yeah, that’s fair,” he replied, laughing. “I’m still not going to join, though. No thanks.”
“Rumi really likes it.”
