Bad Cruz

“Hi, Nessy.”

“Peasant.”

“I come bearing gifts.”

“Are they the monthly checks for the past thirteen years? Because I’m grateful for the last three, but you have some serious catching up to do.”

He sat next to me, plopping a huge bucket of popcorn to the center of the table. I saw by the red-and-white stripes that it was from the local arcade.

I was trash for this popcorn. It was the greasiest, most unhealthy thing on planet Earth, and I could not resist it for the life of me.

The fact that he’d remembered my favorite snack from when we were dating made my stomach turn to mush, and a piercing zing of nostalgia ran through me.

“Hmm, popcorn. That’s almost as good as the checks.” I buried my hand in the carton.

Bear took some, too.

“I called Rob here because I feel like you should talk to a grown-up, and I’m just not… I don’t know, good for the job.” Bear stood up, looking between us. “So I’m going to go wait in my room, and after you guys are done, Rob, I want you to buy me the new Assassin’s Creed.”

“Only if your mom’s okay with that.”

Rob swung his gaze to me. I gave a quick nod. I normally liked to read about a video game online to see just how violent it was before purchasing it (spoiler: they’re all violent), but in my current mental state, I would let Bear watch MMA with little to no resistance.

“Great.” Bear gathered more popcorn—as much as he could fit into his fists—and evacuated the kitchen, leaving Rob and me alone.

“So…” I drank straight from the milk carton—one of the rarest joys of becoming an adult and paying your own rent. “I guess you know about my little jail stint. You were there to take care of Bear when I was inside.”

“I also know it’s not you who did it,” Rob said curtly, opening his hand in a gesture to ask for the milk.

I passed it to him.

He drank straight from the carton, too.

“Well, my parents and sister don’t.”

“They’ve always been…hard on you.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” I nibbled on the popcorn.

“Well, remember when you told them about us, and your mother said no daughter of hers would be underage and pregnant under her roof? Your dad had to convince her not to kick you out.”

Huh.

I’d forgotten about that. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I’d been wronged very deeply and very continuously by my family throughout the years.

“Right,” I said. “I remember.”

“But that’s not why you’re down.” Rob tilted his head. “You’re used to your family, and you’re used to this town treating you as a punching bag. So why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“Cruz and I broke up,” I admitted, dropping the rest of the popcorn back into its bowl.

I couldn’t taste a thing, anyway, I was so depressed.

“You did.” Rob sat back in his seat, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Why?”

“He wanted me to move in with him.”

“The bastard,” Rob drawled.