“Did I say to fuck someone else?” Curtis asked, looking around at his non-existent audience. “I said to figure this shit out with Kara—she’s either in or she’s out, man.”
“You worry about you,” I ordered. “I’ll worry about me.”
“Right,” he said, giving me a thumbs up like a jackass. “Soon as you figure out how to do that, let me know.”
I stomped toward our apartment without another word. For fuck’s sake, everyone had an opinion about me and Kara. It wasn’t surprising, they’d been discussing it since the day I got out—but it was a lot easier to deal with their comments when they were telling me that it would all work out.
As I showered and got ready to head back over to Charlie and Kara’s apartment, I tried not to dwell on how pissed I was that Kara had taken off, but it was impossible. I couldn’t think about anything else. She’d agreed that we’d talk this morning and then she’d disappeared without a word instead. It was such a shitty thing to do to someone, especially someone you supposedly cared about.
It wasn’t just that we’d had plans and she’d blown me off, it was the fact that we’d been having a serious conversation that she’d put a stop to with the agreement we’d continue it the next morning. She’d run. Again. And I was getting the feeling that wasn’t something that was going to change.
Did I really want to be with someone who refused to work shit out and bailed when she wasn’t comfortable with whatever we were discussing?
I got to Charlie’s just in time to help her and Rebel carry everything from her car into the apartment.
“You didn’t tell me you were grocery shoppin’,” I complained as I loaded bags onto my arms. “Jesus.”
“He’s new here,” Charlie said to Reb, making her laugh.
“That’s just snacks,” Reb told me, following me inside with a couple of pizza boxes. “We got popcorn and seven different kinds of candy and soda and hot cocoa, just in case we got the urge, and Gatorade to keep us hydrated and—”
“Don’t tell him all our secrets,” Charlie teased. “He’ll want it all for himself.”
“The strawberry soda is mine,” Reb said seriously. She looked at me. “But I can share if you really want some.”
“It’s all good,” I replied. “I’ll drink somethin’ else.”
“Good,” she said as she started unloading the bags.
A couple minutes later, Curtis showed up.
“I’m sorry Draco beat you up,” Reb said with a grimace, giving him a hug. “I should have told you that earlier.”
Curt’s offended eyes met mine. “Who told you Draco beat me up?” he asked, hugging her back tightly.
“He confessed,” she said, her head on Curtis’ chest. “But he didn’t seem very sorry about it.”
“Ha!” I said, laughing. “You asked if I had, you bloodthirsty little thing.”
“Was it like a UFC fight?” Rebel asked as she pulled away from Curt. “Sometimes those guys get really hurt, but that’s not what they’re trying to do. They’re just trying to win, you know?”
“Yeah, Reb,” Charlie said, shooting a look at me and then Curtis. “That’s exactly what it was like.”
“You still like watching UFC fights?” I asked. She’d written to me every week while I was inside, and at least half of those letters had talked about what fights she’d seen. She could practically describe them move by move and did so regularly.
“Oh yeah,” Reb answered. “Me and Dad buy them on TV. We usually get snacks and everything.”
“Hell, I need to come over to your place,” Curtis said.
“I’ll call you,” Reb said easily.
“Okay, who’s ready to eat?” Charlie asked. “Get yo pizza and yo beer—or strawberry soda.”
We settled in with our snacks and I smiled as Reb chose the movie. The Princess Bride. She always chose The Princess Bride. When we were little, she’d been too afraid of the big rats in the movie, but sometime around middle school, she’d started to love it. We had to have seen it at least three hundred times already. It didn’t even occur to her that we’d rather watch something else, because why would we when The Princess Bride was clearly the best movie ever?
“I can quote this movie word for word,” Curtis told me, taking a drink of his beer.
“Don’t,” Rebel ordered, looking over her shoulder at him. “You’ll ruin it.”
Curtis laughed. “Fine. But I might not be able to help myself during the good parts.”
“Try,” she said flatly, turning back toward the TV.
“Try,” I said to him, my lips twitching. “You ingrate.”
From then on, the movie wasn’t the entertainment. Any time Curtis even silently mouthed a line from the movie, I swear Reb knew, and she shot him a glare over her shoulder to shut him up. Every five minutes, I was holding back laughter as Reb stared over her shoulder and Curtis maintained the most innocent expression I’d ever seen. He looked back at her like he had absolutely no idea why she kept looking at him, and not only that, he was hurt that she would even imagine he’d do such a thing. By the time the end credits were rolling, Reb was seated between us on the couch so she could make sure that Curtis kept his mouth shut.