Reese
Waiting on Natalie to get out of her band tryouts is boring as hell.
With no other way to kill time, I find myself going through Evan’s phone.
His calendar is ridiculously detailed. Apparently, on top of his full course load, he also has two jobs.
Lucky for him, today is his off day, because there’s absolutely no way I’m going to flip burgers or play maid to a bunch of finance bros.
There are no games on here—definitely a serial killer—and he barely has any messages.
Most are from “Birth Giver” asking to be picked up from the same address.
A quick Google search reveals the address belongs to a shady dive bar.
Like a record scratch, I’m pulled out of the fantasy when the passenger door opens. An older version of the girl I ran into this morning plops down into the seat and smiles brightly at me. The genes in this family are strong.
“I did it!” Natalie exclaims. “Got first chair and everything! Simone swore she was so much better than me, but I showed her. She wishes she was half as good as me!” Suddenly, her smile drops and her brows furrow.
“The extra expenses for travel and uniforms won’t be a problem will it?
I don’t have to do this. I know you already work super hard.
” Jesus, this kid can’t be more than thirteen.
Who has to worry about money at that age?
“Don’t worry about it, Nat. I’ll make it work.
Promise.” I make a mental note not to make Evan a liar in this instance.
I’ll pay for the girl’s band expenses myself if I have to.
Evan will just have to swallow his damn pride.
The way her face lights up at my reassurance makes me happy to be the son of the wealthiest man in town, for once.
When we pull up to the Matthews’ trailer, the door is wide open, and a woman, who is stick thin and looks to be in her fifties, is passed out on the steps.
“What the fuck?” I rush out of the car and up to the unconscious woman.
Natalie trails behind me, rather slowly considering the situation.
I’m reaching for the phone in my back pocket, when Sarah, the ten year old, pokes her head out the door.
“Oh good! You’re home,” she says. “I couldn’t get her inside by myself.
So I just left her there, but I made sure to turn her head to the side like you said.
” She looks so proud of herself. Natalie brushes past me, stepping over the woman, as she enters the house.
I know my face is doing something crazy, but I have no control over it at this moment.
How can they be so unbothered by an unconscious person?
Suddenly, the woman releases a snort and rolls over.
Her glassy eyes struggle to focus on my face.
A goofy grin spreads across her face, and she reaches an unsteady hand out to me.
“Evan, sweetheart. Be a good boy and help Mommy inside.” Her words are so slurred they’re almost unintelligible, but I understand enough to put two and two together.
This is apparently Evan’s mother. All the texts with the bar address make a lot more sense now.
Once I have Ms. Matthews on the couch, the girls are quick to surround me.
“What’s for dinner, Ev?” Natalie asks.
“I’m starving,” Sarah adds on.
“It’s your night to cook,” Natalie presses.
“Nothing gross like last time, Evie,” Sarah says.
Well, fuck. These girls are in for a rude awakening if they expect me to cook.
I’ve never cooked a day in my life. A quick check of the pantry does nothing to settle my nerves.
Boxed mac and cheese is the only basic item there.
Everything else requires preparation, and some level of cooking know-how.
Thankfully the two pizzas in the freezer save the day.
“How does pizza sound?” I ask, and the girls squeal in delight. Surely, I can manage a pizza.
Spoiler alert: I, in fact, cannot manage a pizza.