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I need to find a real job. One where I’m not taking Dad’s money, but preferably someone else’s.
I take another sip of hot chocolate, decide to use that website Mrs. French told us about a few months ago in English class. The one that helps high school students create their resumes. Yeah, I’ll start there.
Wait...don’t you have to have things to put on it? Like previous jobs? Or skills? Life goals?
I don’t even know what I want to major in.
I’m undecided.
Undecided.
Ugh.
Matt’s jeep pulls into the driveway next door, rousing me from my thoughts. I look up, run an anxious hand through my hair. We're still not really talking.
He hops out as our eyes meet and he gives me an awkward wave. I wave back, notice he’s carrying a white sack in his arms.
He seems to be warring with himself. Does he go inside, continue this whole no talking thing we silently agreed to? Or do we start rebuilding our friendship?
Well, whatever’s left of it these days.
To my surprise, he starts walking over to me.
He clears his throat nervously when he’s standing in front of me in grey sweats and a white T-shirt. I chuckle when I notice he’s wearing fuzzy slippers.
“Why are you up so early?” he asks, trying to keep from yawning.
“I’m thinking,” I reply.
Matt guffaws. “You’re thinking? About what?”
I shrug, “My life.”
“Sounds...introspective.”
“Why are you wearing those slippers?” I raise my eyebrows, curious.
He groans. “Audra had a craving for donuts. So, I drove all the way to Mario’s, bought every kind they had. When I showed up at her door, she told me she wasn’t craving them anymore.”
I throw my head back and laugh.
“It’s not funny, Jen,” Matt lets out a frustrated sigh. “She’s punishing me.”
“Why is she punishing you?” I play along, not sure I believe that’s what she’s actually doing.
He takes a few steps, sits down beside me, opens the sack and offers me a donut. I dig through the bag, find a chocolate one with rainbow sprinkles.
“I told her I’m not interested in a relationship right now.” He runs a hand through his hair, seems to tug at it, annoyed.
“And she didn’t like that?” I guess with a mouthful of cakey chocolate.
Matt smirks. “What do you think?”
“I’m proud of you for being honest about what you want at least,” I tell him. “That takes guts.”
He digs through the bag, grabs an apple fritter, takes a bite. We eat in silence for a moment before he continues. “I’m trying to do the right thing for Audra and the baby. I bring her food at all hours of the night. I rub her feet even though she’s barely showing, and her ankles are definitely not swollen. I’m going to start working part-time for my mom serving people papers just to earn some extra cash to pay for all the stuff Audra has to have. Why do we need a stroller right now? Isn’t that what the baby shower’s for?”
I shrug, offer him a sympathetic smile. “Sounds like she just wants to be prepared.”
