He holds his hand up. “Whoa, man, slow your roll. Just because I live here doesn’t mean I’m on scholarship and need the extra cash. My last name is Walton, and her name’s Savvy.”
“Fine. I wasn’t implying that you were hard up for cash, just that you’re friends with—”
“Savvy doesn’t have friends. She’s a blender.”
“Ziggy, how fucked up are you right now?” I ask, trying to keep my chill.
“Not bad, just the usual morning blend.”
“Great. So, if you can’t do it, then help me figure out who can.”
“Do what, man?” he asks.
“You fucking serious right now?” I sneer.
“Chill, dude.” He smiles. “Everything will work out.”
Then the bell rings, and I’m late for homeroom.
By noon, I have talked myself into and out of working at The Bean about every fifteen minutes. Logically, I know I can’t. Not that I work a lot during school, and not that you could call what I do work, but if Dad and Mom need a hand dealing with one of the artists, I normally help. And, although Brandon has been the one who’s been the biggest pain in the ass lately, and I know now that he and Kiki are jelling, there’s still a chance. Besides that, who would deal with Max and Amias while they’re out fucking shit up? Hell, I can’t blame them, and I know if I asked them to lay low because the girl that I’m hot for is sick, they would, but then everyone would know what a fucking idiot I’m being right now, and then they wouldn’t listen to a damn thing I say.
There is also a chance that her boss sees her like I do, and Savvy won’t lose her job, but the what-ifs are fucking me hard right now.
All I know is that I need to deal with it, because we’re unpacking this weekend, and I need to remember how stoked I was for this move and let my parents see that appreciation; be in the moment with them.
I pull out my phone and shoot Savvy a text.
12:04 p.m - Savvy
12:04 p.m - What can I do for you?
12:04 p.m - XOXO
12:04 p.m - Patrick
12:05 p.m - Please note: I’m not using Savannah out of courtesy for my friend who apparently has the X virus.
Twenty minutes later, she’s still left me on delivered.
* * *
By Friday, everyone has pretty much had it with the change, and every one of us is going through our own shit with the move. Max and Amias haven’t complained; Tris is in her own head, which is not unusual; Brisa is coming into her own, doing what girls her age do—trying to figure out where they fit—and Kiki and Truth are dealing with the mean girls. What I wouldn’t give to trade places, for a day, to be a girl and give them a taste of their own shit. Kiki would have already done so, if she wasn’t pregnant, but she’s protecting that little bump like it’s her job, and it is.
Truth apparently had a run-in with the Queen B, and Justice intervened. Honestly, I wish he would let her handle it. I think that’s about half the reason her self-esteem has taken a hit. Justice should let her deal, let her build the confidence that she can. She’s capable. He’s just not capable of letting her. I’d like to think that’s what I would do if I were her.
Being the only child in this family never feels like I am, until it’s between siblings. Then I know I have to step back. I do call JT on his shit occasionally, but their bond is even tighter than Crew, or even the rest of the sibling sets—they’re twins.
“Got a minute?” Dad says from the open door of the shared room.
“For you?” I try to act annoyed, but he sees through my shit. “Of course. What’s up?”
“Mom said you had some ideas to add to the Christmas boxes we send our artists?”
Fuck, I think as I turn around and start putting the clothes that Mom just brought down in a box for the move. “Yeah,” I answer.
“Two grand worth of gift cards, Tricks?” he asks.
I close my eyes, really wishing maybe I mentioned it to them, but knowing damn well there was no good explanation as to why I’d buy two grand worth of gift cards to The Bean. “Everyone loves a good coffee and a burrito.”
“Little dude, how many of them frequent the Mantoloking area enough to spend fifty bucks on coffee and burritos?” He walks around and sits on the bed, his arms crossed, looking up at me. “Spill the bean.” He tries to keep a straight face and fails.
I mean, yeah, it’s funny shit, unless it’s you who is losing your mind.
I shrug and continue packing. “Just think everyone at Forever Four can appreciate a small business with epic products.”
He leans to the side, his elbow planted on a pile of folded clothes that I’m trying to pack, his head propped on his hand. “I’d like to place an order.”
“Dad, just—”
“Large black, no bullshit.”
Very rarely does he play the father role, he’s normally more like a bud. Apparently, this is one of those times.
“The girl at the drive-thru—”
“The one who couldn’t look you in the eye? The ‘date’s’ roommate?”
I nod. “She’s sick. Has mono and will probably be out of work for at least two weeks, possibly longer.”
“Continue,” he says.
“I know she needs the money. I tried to get someone to jump in her spot, like a placeholder until she gets better, and he didn’t want the responsibility. She doesn’t have people like us. Hell, she doesn’t even call anyone friend.”
“Family?”
I shake my head. “Doesn’t sound like it.”
“And you’re doing all this because you want to impress her?”
I look up at him and shake my head again, even though it’s bullshit. Down deep, I wanted that since I heard her voice, caught her attitude, and
