My savings had built a little since taking on tutoring Cade, and my advisor at college said that there was a new grant I could apply for that could help with living costs. Things were looking up, but there was always a downside, and I was waiting for it to present itself. Nothing ever happened without there being a bad side, right?
“What do you think?” Cade’s voice broke free, and I blinked several times.
“Sorry, I was in my own head.” I tried my hardest to smile and make it look genuine, and it fooled him because he smiled back and leaned forward.
“I said you could come to the school and meet with my teachers. Maybe they could help with the whole ‘you wanting to be a teacher’ thing.”
My smile fell, my stomach dipping. It was an offer that I didn’t want to refuse, something that would give me an insight that I wouldn’t otherwise get, but would it be taking advantage of Cade?
“Crap, my mom just pulled up.” Cade jumped out of the booth and slung his backpack on. “Think about it and let me know next week.”
“I...I will,” I whispered, staring after him as he walked out of the diner and toward his mom’s car. I should have been elated by the offer, but my mind automatically went to a negative space. It was something I was working on, but my natural reaction was to always think the worst.
* * *
LOLA
I’d always painted my toenails at the kitchen table. It was a habit that I’d started when I was thirteen, and I hadn’t been able to break. Whenever I’d tried to do it in my bedroom, I always ended up with a headache from the fumes because of the cheap brand. I couldn’t afford the stuff that would only need one coat, so I had to do at least three to get any kind of coverage, so it made sense to do it in an open space. I wasn’t sure anyone knew about my little habit because I’d always made sure the house was empty when I did it. But today, right in the middle of the first coat of polish, the front door opened.
I turned my head and groaned as Ford and Quinn walked inside, their grins high on their faces as they talked about something I really didn’t care to know about. The crew members treated
this house like it was their own home. It was something I’d hated at first, but the more time went on, the more I got used to it.
“What the fuck is that smell?” Ford asked, his gaze zoning in on me.
I shrugged and feigned any knowledge, then turned back to the task at hand. The bright red polish was one that needed several coats, and I wouldn’t let them disturb my ritual.
The pounding of their feet got louder the closer they came, but I didn’t look up as I dipped the brush back into the bottle.
“The hell you doin'?” Quinn asked, sitting opposite me.
“Painting my toenails,” I answered in the same tone someone would say, “Duh.”
“You’re such a chick.”
“Dude,” Ford said, sitting down on the edge of the seat that my feet were planted on. “She’s a girl, or have you not noticed.”
“Kinda hard not to,” Quinn grunted.
“You gonna talk about me like I’m not even sitting right here?” I asked, painting my pinky and then pushing the brush back in the bottle. All I had to do now was wait for the first coat to dry.
“Depends…” Ford said, and when I looked up at him, he had a small smile on his face. “You gonna make us something to eat?”
“Fuck no. Buy your own goddamn food.”
Ford stood and threw some dollars down at Quinn. “Go get takeout.”
“You go get it,” Quinn answered, looking down at his cell.
“You wanna tell Hut that you sent me to get takeout while we’re waiting for someone to turn up?”
Quinn rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. “Fuckin' fine.” He pocketed the money. “What do you want?”
We both reeled off what we wanted, and as soon as Quinn left, Ford took his seat. “So what’s this then?”
“Nail polish.” I picked the bottle up and pointed to the black writing on the side. “See them? They’re words—read them.”
He raised a brow, but there was laughter shining in his eyes. “Oh, someone is on the bitch train tonight. I meant what color.”