Wild Tendy (IceCats 2)
And I want to believe it’s okay.
I want to believe it’s for the best.
But what if it’s not?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Aviva
After a weird midafternoon rush and celebrating with Callie about her A in math—thank you, Nico Merryweather—I reach for my laptop. I have a stack of mail I need to look through, but after last night, I’m worried about Nico. Since I like to know what I am walking into, I find myself on WebMD a lot. When I get to the doctor and they tell me it’s only a rash, I’ve already convinced myself it’s cancer, so I’m good. Same thing here. I figure out what I think is ailing Nico, he tells me something that doesn’t even come close, and boom! Things are great. I just need somewhere to start.
I think it’s a phobia, but I don’t know. It made me so nervous. Nico didn’t eat, he didn’t talk, and when people tried to talk to him, other than Chandler or me, I felt as if I had to save him. I learned so much about why you should make a donation if you’re a business owner that now I feel like I need to start donating. Problem is, I would probably qualify for a donation myself. I was stricken with worry for Nico, but I learned a lot from those amazing businesspeople, and I made some contacts. I didn’t have fun, though; I was too concerned about Nico. To make matters worse, he didn’t even come in or invite me over at the end of the night. He went home, and it killed me to see him drive away.
In the Google search bar, I type in “phobias.” For the next hour, I read every single phobia known to man between making subs and answering phone calls. I search levels of anxiety, and somehow, I find myself reading a piece about depression, which is a huge mistake because then I start diagnosing myself. I quickly click away from that, and just as I’m about to type “sensory issues,” Callie comes up beside me.
“Why are you searching sensory things?”
“I’m worried about Nico,” I say, but before I can hit enter, Callie turns the computer around to herself. “Hey!”
“Hey back,” she laughs, but I notice her jaw is a little taut. “I need to look up some stuff for school before I head over to the gym. You can wait. Plus, if you’re worried about Nico, ask Nico. It’s not like he wouldn’t answer you.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I don’t like the way you just take things from me.”
She shrugs. “Hey, you’re the one who claims me.”
I lean over, kissing her cheek. “Always will, too, you asshole.”
She giggles as I reach for the stack of envelopes. “But for real, what are you worried about?”
I start to look through the weekly coupons. “He was so off last night. He didn’t eat. He didn’t speak. He was just there. I could feel the fear coming off him in waves. He told me he didn’t think we’d stay the whole night, but we did, and honestly, I think it was because of Chandler. He has a way of speaking to Nico.”
“Made you jealous?”
“So damn much,” I admit as I tear out a coupon for toothpaste. We always run out of toothpaste since Callie uses it on the rips on her hands from the gym. Crazy person. “But it bothered me. I mean, I know there is something wrong—”
“No, there isn’t,” she snaps, and when I look over at her, she’s glaring at me.
“O…kay. No need to get defensive. I’m the one dating him.”
“There is nothing wrong with him. And you definitely can’t be like, ‘Hey Nico, what’s wrong with you?’ That’s shitty as hell.”
My jaw falls open a bit. “Whoa.” I hold up my palms to her. “I am well aware of how to speak to people, and what is up with the language?”
She slams the computer shut. “I don’t want you saying or thinking there is something wrong with him just because he doesn’t handle things like we do. He’s different but in no way wrong!”
Tears are gathering in her eyes, and I’m truly so confused, I don’t know what to say. “Callie, relax—”
“For real! Promise me you won’t use that phrasing with him.”
“I won’t.”
She storms out, taking my computer with her, and I’m left totally baffled. What the hell just happened? I shake my head and go back to my mail. Hormones, man, they’re out to get me. I don’t know if I’ll make it with her. Holy Grilled Cheese Jesus.
When I come to an envelope from the medical billing company that holds my mom’s account, I draw in my brows so much, they practically touch. Before I open it, I think real hard. I sent in that payment. Yeah. Yeah, I did. I tear the envelope open, praying it’s only a statement and not another bill. I pull out the letter, and my check falls out. Now, I feel not only my brows touching but my whole face folding in. What in the hell? I look at my uncashed check and then quickly open the letter.