“Calliope!” I cry out, my eyes about to fall out of my head.
“What? Public school!”
“What does that even mean? Are you having sex?” I ask, horrified, and the little asshole laughs.
“No, I don’t have time for that. And while I know you don’t either, I think you should make time. You probably would smile more if you were having sex.”
What. In. The. Hell?
It’s moments like this I hate cancer for taking my mom. “I am fine, and also, another life lesson—sex doesn’t fix everything.”
“That’s not what I’m told or what TV shows say. You’re sad? Sex. Mad? Sex. Happy? Sex. I mean, I think sex goes with any emotion. Kinda like chocolate and ice cream. Or better yet, swiss and ham with mayo. Mmm, I’m hungry.”
She sends me the toothiest grin before she starts making a sub. All I can do is let my head drop onto the counter. “Where did I fail?”
“I think it was letting me watch Pretty Woman.”
“But it’s a classic.”
“Friends too. Friends opened a whole can of sex worms.”
I point at her. “I will not apologize for Friends. Everyone needs to watch the whole thing at least a hundred times.”
“Oh, I don’t disagree. I’m just saying. I learned a lot from my uncle Joey.”
I groan even louder. “Please stay in the gym and keep your nose in books.”
She’s still laughing as she heads through the kitchen to go put her stuff away. “Will do. And you go get laid.”
Curse you, Joey Tribbiani!
I lift my head from the counter and shut my computer. I know I shouldn’t put all my eggs in the IceCats basket, but man, I hope doing that will put me ahead. That would be awesome. It would help so much. If I could get out from under my mom’s medical bills and get my dad to stop stealing from me, Callie and I would be great. One day at a time. We’ll get there. I just hope it’s before she graduates so I can spoil her a bit. Pay for her gymnastics. Take her on a trip. Hell, hire someone to work in this place so I can go. It’s all so overwhelming. I just want to give her a good life. I want a good life.
I don’t hate my life, not in the least, but I sure wish I could stop getting kicked when I’m down. Maybe a few good things could happen. This IceCat thing could be a turning point for me. I’d never get this opportunity on my own, and as much as I could think of it as a handout, I won’t. Nico loved my sub. He suggested it to his team, and that’s why they called. He didn’t do it because he felt bad for me…right?
Something in my chest starts to seize at the thought he did it out of pity. Did he hit on me out of pity? Did he know I was at rock bottom? I bite the inside of my lip before I look back down at my phone. I could call Amelia and get his number. That would make me crazy, though. But I have to know. I pick up my phone and look for Amelia’s number. But before I can hit her name, the door opens. Probably an act of God to keep me from looking insane. Though, when I look up to greet the customer, it’s the man who is filling all my thoughts.
With a brightness in his eyes and an easygoing grin, he says, “Hey, Aviva.”
Be cool. Be cool. Don’t be a psycho.
I hear Callie behind me as she says happily, “Hey, Nico!”
He grins at her. “Hey, Callie. How was math today?”
“Totally awesome. You helped so much.”
“Great. Let me know if you need more help.”
“I will. A Hero, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Can you make me two so I can have one for tonight?”
“Of course.”
Well, I’m glad they’re so chummy, but damn it, I need to know. “Did you tell Joann Williams to call me and get me to make subs for your team because you felt sorry for me?”
He actually stops mid-stride, and the look on his face says I went full crazy chick on him. I even feel Callie staring at me like I’m nuts as she makes his subs. Nico’s eyes cut to Callie and then back to me. “Um. No? I told her I wanted your subs for lunch before games because they’re good and I’m hungry. I don’t like pasta salad. There is something about olives. They freak me out. Then the little red things they say are tomatoes but don’t look like tomatoes and get caught in your teeth, I don’t like them either. I love your subs, though. I know what I’m eating.”
“Oh,” I say after his word vomit.
“I don’t like pasta salad either,” Callie says, and I want to scream.