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“Maybe he had to pick something up.”
“Maybe.” Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing. “It’s going to be fine. I’m kinda overprotective with him, that’s all.”
She laughs, a tinkling sparkling sound that makes me smile. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“What?”
“You practically shoved him at me because you saw us kiss. Made the decision for him. I’d say you’re overprotective.”
That sobers me up. “He deserves to be happy.”
“You said that, yeah. What about you? Don’t you deserve the same?”
“Not as much as Jet,” I say firmly, because it’s the truth. “He’s been through too much.”
Silence stretches, and I wonder if I said too much. I’m never gonna break his trust, no matter how at ease Candy makes me feel.
“I like him,” she says quietly.
And there I go, smiling again. “Good. He’s a good guy.” Even if I wish she preferred me, I can’t begrudge him this. I lean my head back against the cushions and sigh. I shouldn’t like her so much on top of wanting her. Hell.
“You’re a good guy, too, Joel.”
“Nah.” I glance around the tidy shelves filled with books. “Did anything else happen before he left the store? Did anything upset him?”
“Donna—our boss—came asking for his diploma.”
“Fuck.” I rub my eyes with my fist. Figures this would happen. I should try calling him again.
“Why? What’s the problem?”
“Nothing. Look, gotta go. I’ll let you know when he comes in, okay? I bet he’s just fine.”
“Okay.” She doesn’t sound convinced, but it’s the best I can do. “Take care, J.”
She hangs up, and I sprawl there for a long moment, thinking. So he probably freaked out about not having finished his GED. Probably took a long walk to let out the tension.
He should have come running with me. Best anti-stress method ever. But I bet he wanted to be alone for a bit.
And do what? He said he’s working on getting his GED, but that’s not done in a day. He wanted this job because of Candy. He’d told me about this girl he’d met at the concert and how she gave him the business card to the shop.
Told me later he had no idea it was nerdy girl. I mean, yeah, how could he know?
This is fucked up.
And I can’t help him unless he comes back and talks to me. Not sure I can help him, in fact. But at least I can see if he needs help with the lessons and if he needs to talk about anything. Sometimes he does. I hope he didn’t go out to get shitfaced on his own.
He’d better come back soon before I start working on getting drunk myself.
***
I’m slightly buzzed by the time the key turns in the lock. It’s late. I mute the sound on the TV and raise my whiskey glass at Jet, who staggers inside, blinking owlishly at me.
“S’up, mate?” he slurs, dropping his keys on the table and plopping down beside me. He slings an arm over my shoulders and grins widely, his eyes half-closing. “Didn’t think you’d be here.”
“I was waiting for you.” Looks like he started drinking without me. His breath smells lightly of alcohol.
“What for?”
