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“I was just heading back home.” She stood up, readjusting her coveralls.
Don’t offer her a ride. She’s not your problem. She broke your heart.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
You never learn, do you, Pussy McWhipson?
“Thanks.” She attempted a weak smile.
Dylan’s laser gaze ping-ponged between us. She slowly chewed on a ZBar. “Keep your clothes on, kids. You don’t want to end up like me.”
Cal was already sailing across the room toward me before she glanced at Dylan behind her shoulder. “What are you talking about? You turned out to be the best.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Dylan flashed me a brave smile, and in that moment, I knew she’d needed it. That good word.
ROW
I spent the entire drive to Cal’s house stopping myself from telling her she was being a coward while she longingly stared at my profile. I couldn’t rush her. Even if she was clearly fucking both our lives up by giving up something just because she was afraid of losing it.
“I think Allison sent people to stab you,” she blurted out of nowhere when I turned off the engine in front of her house. “Like, almost certain of it.”
“It’s possible.” I reached into the glove compartment, brushing my hand over her knee accidentally while popping it open. I extracted a pack of gum and threw two sticks into my mouth. “She has a track record of wanting people dead.”
“How are you not mad?” Her fingers curled around the handle of the passenger door, but she made no move to leave. “She could’ve killed you.”
“Back at ya.” I popped my gum, looking out the windshield with my signature boredom. She needed to do this. She had to face her bully if she ever wanted to step out of the shadow Allison had cast over Cal’s life. I had my own beef with Allison, and I was going to go for her throat, but not before Cal found out for herself that she could handle anything, least of which was Mayor Murray.
“It’s not the same,” she cried out desperately. “She formed an entire movement against you.”
I didn’t take my eyes off her, waiting for the penny to drop.
“It’s still not the same,” she yelped. “What happened to me was a long time ago.”
“You let your past dictate your present. Which is why you have no future.” I reached to open the door for her. “Word to the wise—fight your own demons before helping other people slay theirs. Goodbye, Dot.”
CAL
oBITCHuary: I miss you.
McMonster: Then do something about it.
oBITCHuary: Like what?
McMonster: Change your mind before we say goodbye.
oBITCHuary: You can’t promise me you would never hurt me.
McMonster: You’re right. I can’t. That’s why you have to take a chance on me. Love is a high-stakes game, Bitchy. Show me I’m worth it. Because to me? You’re worth the entire fucking world.
CAL
“Never Ever”—All Saints
On Christmas Eve, I opted out of the festive dinner the Finches had invited Mamushka and me to on account that I’d had rather feasted on soiled toddler underwear than spend a minute with Melinda Finch. It was the last day of Descartes, but I didn’t have a shift. No doubt Row’s doing. He knew I disliked big crowds.
“I wish you’d come.” Mom curled a fuzzy, multicolored scarf around her neck, shoving her hands into her mittens. “Melinda makes the best mince pie in all of Maine.”
“Pretty sure she makes the only mince pie in all of Maine,” I guffawed from my spot on the couch, fluffy socks rolled all the way up my shins. A laptop rested in my lap. In lieu of a love life—of any kind of life, really—I had begun drafting more of my hypothetical podcast episodes. It was pretty therapeutic. And by therapeutic, I meant it distracted me from wanting to punch my own face for screwing it all up with Row. Again.
