my eyes. “Hit me,” I said.
She sighed loudly. “You know you can’t let him get away with this.”
I nodded even as my stomach sank. I’d known she was going to say something like that. I opened my eyes and met her stare. I’d known it, but I’d still dreaded it.
“It’s not fair for you to do all the work and him to get the same good grade,” she continued, as if I didn’t know this.
I nodded again. “Yeah, I know.”
A heavy silence fell between us. Maybe it was because I’d been listening to Buttercup cry for so long, but the silence felt ominous.
When Buttercup let out a little squeak that marked the start of another crying fit, my head dropped to my chest.
Max groaned. “You know I’d stay the night if I could, right?”
I nodded, my chin bobbing against my chest in weary acknowledgement. “You’ve got new family duties?”
Her sigh was answer enough. Her mother had recently remarried and her mom and stepdad were hellbent on forging their two families into one, ala The Brady Bunch. It didn’t sound like anyone was enjoying this new family closeness, least of all Max.
“Want me to come back later?” she asked.
I shook my head. “That’s okay, thanks though.”
Much as I might have wanted to take her up on her offer to help, my conscience wouldn’t let me put her through that. It wasn’t her assignment, it was mine.
No, it was ours.
I closed the front door behind her after wishing her good luck and that was when it started in earnest. The crying.
The wailing.
Buttercup was crying, not me. I was too busy trying not to lose my mind. The incessant neediness was only broken by short breaks, during which all I could do was sit in front of our TV and stew.
No, stew was too mild of a word.
I raged.
For years I’d been telling Max about the many and myriad qualities that made Alex Luven so great. He was so sweet and kind and thoughtful and generous.
And, you know...hot.
But that wasn’t the only reason I liked him. I liked that he wasn’t too cool to be into school spirit or to laugh loudly in the halls. I liked that he was so friendly to everyone, even the nerds and the losers. I liked...I liked…
Well, I liked a lot of things about Alex. Obviously. But right now it was hard to remember any of the reasons I liked my crush because he’d royally pissed me off.
What was one supposed to do when one’s crush was a thoughtless coward who leaves one alone with a crying plastic nightmare?
At one point I actually picked up one of my beloved magazines as if that might honestly have the answer, but I ended up throwing it across the room with a growl as Baby Buttercup erupted into another fit of whimpering.
As the long afternoon turned into evening and I still hadn’t heard a peep from my beloved, I did the only thing I could think of.
I took Baby Buttercup to him.
4
Cristian
I was alone when the doorbell started to ring. Finally, happily, contentedly alone and reading a book as a light rain tapped on the windows. The soothing sound of rain on the window panes seemed to ease the toxic tension that had been building up all day between my dad and me.
My dad was out with some clients, schmoozing it up on a Saturday night, because that was how he rolled. As for Alex...well, who knew where that kid was?
And who cared?
I ignored the doorbell the first time because—it wasn’t for me. How did I know? I no longer had friends in town. They were all off at college. And if it was some sort of delivery, they could just leave it at the door.
But whoever it was did not give up. The ringing continued. And then it continued some more until my head was starting to hurt from the incessant buzzing coming from the front door. I threw the door open and stared at the girl standing there, a bundle in her arms and rain dripping down her face and...a scowl so fierce it had me backing up a step.
“Where is he?” the soggy girl said through clenched teeth.
I blinked a couple of times as I realized that this...this was… “Avery?”
My use of her name seemed to shake her out of her angry trance and she swiped some raindrops out of her face with one hand as she clutched the package to her chest with the other. Her