Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,2
I try again, again, and again until she finally answers, “What do you want?”
“Where are you?”
“Far away from you,” she states.
Why do you always have to answer like a petulant fifteen-year-old? I want to protest, but I don’t. Instead, I say, “I take it you made the decision to move out of the state. Did it occur to you to tell us about it?”
“As I said the last time we spoke, I’m done with your meddling,” she comments. “In fact, I’m done with you. Lose my number.”
“Well then, when will you be sending me the money I loaned you to buy your car and the deposit to rent the apartment where this Ron character lives?” I question. “Furthermore, this apartment is under my name too, and I didn’t sign any agreement to sublease the place to him. My name is on that leasing contract.”
“If I were Persy, you would’ve helped me move. Instead, you’re demanding money that I don’t have,” she argues. “It’s a verbal contract which should be binding. He is good for it. Don’t worry about what can happen to your precious name.”
I sigh. “That argument is so old it doesn’t have the same effect. Calliope, our parents are going to be heartbroken and worried if you don’t tell them where you are. At least give them a courtesy call.”
“They are the reason I’m running away from this family. Have you realized that they aren’t normal? They embarrass us. While growing up, I could never bring friends to the house because I never knew what they would do,” she explains. “Please, don’t tell me you aren’t ashamed of them. How many times have you brought a boyfriend to the house? None, because you know it’s horrifying to introduce them to Octavio and Edna Brassard. And then, there’s Persephone. She’s a famous sexologist.”
Our parents are unique. Yes, they can be a handful and we have to control their narrative sometimes. However, I’ll take those two above many other parents who are abusive, neglectful, or plain. Persy is an influencer, a therapist, and yes, she markets herself as a sexologist. There’s nothing wrong with her career. I’d be concerned if she was a criminal.
“We never had normal,” she continues, and I laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”
I clear my throat and say, “I laugh because you’re not making sense. You sound like a petulant child having a tantrum because you’re not getting your way.”
“You never take me seriously, Nyx. You think you are the smartest one of us. Just because you have a fancy office, a nice house, and a luxury car, you think that you are better than us. You are not!”
“Callie, stop while you’re ahead,” I warn her.
“You’re upset because I’m telling you the truth. And the truth always hurts. You’re pathetic, Nyx. Your life is fucking sad. Just boring and plain like you.”
She’s not wrong about being boring or having a life. I’m nothing like Persy or her. One thing I hate about my baby sister is that when she strikes, she hits where it hurts the most.
“Listen, Callie, we love you even when you’re rude to us because you are our little sister. I stopped liking you a long time ago. You became this entitled woman that I can’t stand, and you know what…I’m done being the one trying to keep this family together,” I say. “Not only that, I’m done with you. If you want to play martyr and tell the world that you escaped your crazy family, that’s up to you. Just don’t come back groveling for money.”
I hang up and fire up a text to Persy.
Nyx: What are you up to?
Persy: I’m hanging out with Ford. Need me?
Nyx: No, I wanted to gossip about your hot grumpy neighbor. I guess we’ll have to do it another time.
Persy: Liar. What’s happening?
I smile because she knows me too well.
Nyx: Nothing important, I swear. Talk to you soon.
Persy: Love you, Nyx.
Nyx: Love you, Pers.
As much as I would love to tell her what is happening with Callie, I don’t do it. One of these days, I’ll give her the Spark Notes. I just wish I had someone in my life who was there for me when I feel like the weight on my shoulders is too heavy to carry. Maybe I just have to dump it in some abandoned alley and be done with everyone.
I drive back to my house where I place my leftovers in the refrigerator and put on my pajamas. Instead of turning on