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Grumbling all the way back to my class, I walk into familiar chaos and get back to work. At least with the twenty sixth graders, I know I have the illusion of control. Until that afternoon when I finally drag myself out of the school and end up in line at Taco Bell again.
Tacos are the only cure for the Monday blues. Tacos and tequila, really. Only since I’m not sitting in my living room wrapped in a blanket, tequila unfortunately is out of the question. For now, at least. Once I get home, all bets are off.
“Hey, Miss James.” Of course Henley would be the one manning the drive-thru. After all, that is just my luck.
He stares at me with a smile on his face, his hand held out expectantly for my card again after I ordered and made it to the window.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he laughs.
The glare on my face must be harsher than I think, though. Almost immediately the cheerful smile fades from his face. As quick as he can, he leans out the drive-thru window and looks behind my car before pulling himself back in.
“No one’s behind you. What’s wrong, Miss James?” Genuine concern laces his voice and the sad expression I’ve earned hits me square in the chest.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. At the same time I put on my best and fakest smile. “Just stress from the day.”
My lie isn’t good enough, clearly, when Henley raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Don’t make me hold your food hostage.”
The way he says it, there is no doubt in my mind that he’ll do it too. He’s always been spunky, even when he sat in my sixth-grade class.
With a huff, I roll my eyes. “I’m hungry, Henley. We had a fire drill at school today, which I’m sure you know how much fun those are.”
He seems satisfied with my answer. I sit there wondering why in the actual hell I care what a teenager thinks about me, but just as I open my mouth to tell him not to be so nosy, he hands me a bag full of tacos.
“I put some extra fire sauce in there for you, Miss James.”
Just like that, he dismisses me. Surprisingly, my irrational upset at it vanishes just as quickly as it appeared when I see the car pull up behind me.
Trying to remember that not everyone is out to get me, I go home to eat tacos in bed. Everything goes smoothly, too. Chris isn’t home from the gym yet, and I practically sprint to my room in my excitement to change into pajamas and crawl under the sheets. Armed with extra napkins and my bag of food by my side, I turn on a movie and settle in.
Full, sleepy, and ready to forget about everything except sleep, I don’t even care when Chris walks into my room like he owns the place. He takes one look at the leftover taco mess, me buried in blankets, and shakes his head sullenly. “This isn’t a good coping mechanism.”
The exorcist has nothing on me with the way I slowly turn my head to glare at him. “Mind your own business,” I tell him. “This is the perfect coping mechanism. Especially after the week I’ve had.”
“It’s Monday, Avery.” Chris climbs into bed with me, moving the taco mess out of his way, and pulls me into a hug.
Well, something like a weird hug. My head ends up on his chest and I have to drag my arm out from between our bodies so we’ll both be comfortable. I had pretty much adopted the belief, a long time ago, that if he wants to cuddle, he can do all the work.
“If you ever get married, he’s gonna have to understand that I’m coming too,” I grumble a few minutes later when he starts to rub my back. “Anyone you’re with is gonna have to be with me, too.”
Chris chortles, and I feel the laughter in his chest right against my head. “Good luck with that, Avery. I’m never going to get married. I don’t think it’s in the cards.”
“For you, yeah it is. You’re good, Chris. All the good in the world.” He keeps rubbing my back softly while I speak. “You deserve all the good things, and I’ll hurt anyone who makes you think otherwise.”
He pauses, not sure what to make of me, I’m sure. It isn’t often I get sentimental. The fact that I’ve been nothing short of maudlin for the last few weeks has thrown a wrench into our usual dynamic.
“You deserve all the good too, Avery.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “I hate that you think so poorly of yourself. Everything you’ve gone through, it was only a test. You won. You came out on the other side, and you’re stronger than anyone else I’ve ever met.”
Choked up, I don’t respond. I try to keep it all bottled up, I really do. But then my sniffle gives me away.
“Don’t cry,” Chris whispers.
Needing an escape, a way to run away from my feelings, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I need to get laid.”
Chris nods against the top of my head. “You and me, both. Dating sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.”
Chris doesn’t call me out on the abrupt change of subject. Then again, he is my best friend for a reason.
