Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Jenny
I stare at my ceiling until I start to see blotchy color dots floating around.
I’ve replayed my conversation—correction, my screaming match with Joey all night.
He was trying to do something nice, I guess.
And he’s been going through a hard time.
Nonna died. And he’s responsible for a dog he didn’t know anything about.
His family seems cool. Or at least they’ve been cool to me.
What did he mean when he said, “What an underwhelming experience it’s been to finally meet you.
” Underwhelming I get, but what about “finally”?
Did Nonna talk about me? Or worse, had he seen me at the club?
It’s not like I had a reputation there or something.
I hadn’t even gone very much. But logically, that would be the only other place I would’ve seen him.
Or at least he would’ve seen me.
I’m not loving this.
Still, I don’t know how I feel about any of this at all.
I think I was unnecessarily mean to him.
Maybe.
I don’t know.
I wish I had a brain that let me go on autopilot.
That I could shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast without having to constantly think about every step.
The Narrator Lady is louder than normal.
The water in my shower is lukewarm and never gets to the scolding temperatures of one of those geothermal springs.
Iceland has some cool ones, but I hear good things about the Azores too.
Volcanoes are cool. Except that super volcano under Yellowstone, which is supposed to erupt sometime this century.
We were supposed to have flying cars too, but the super volcano seems more likely.
What’s holding up the flying cars anyway?
Shut up Narrator Lady. Just let me wash my hair.
Then she goes on a rant about bar shampoo and how it’s better for the environment, but I don’t like the texture.
Since I never let her speak in real life while I’m around people—my fear of rejection keeps her bottled up as much as I can—I normally let the Narrator Lady talk while I’m trying to do my basic things.
I let her rant while I get dressed and when I check on the 3D printers.
The ice cream pint holder came out pretty good.
Too good, actually. Yep, I’m going to need to print another to add to my collection of 3D prints I will never use but are cute as hell and I need them in my life.
But the distraction between the prints and the Narrator Lady doesn’t solve my Joey problem.
The journey to Nonna’s house doesn’t give me enough time to work through my feelings either.
I keep circling back to the same questions.
Is he a worthless bag of shit? Or a decent human?
From my experience, people are an annoying combination of both, or somewhere in the middle.
The jury is still out on where Joey fits on that spectrum.
Kingston greets me at the door. He jumps on my leg, and I tell him to get down, but I can’t help but rub behind his ears.
The smell of coffee and sugar fills the house.
A chair squeaks across the floor in the kitchen, the sound triggering years of memories—seeing Nonna in the kitchen waiting, standing to greet me—and the hole in my chest widens.
Shit, I might not make it through the day without a breakdown.
I slam my eyes shut, willing the tears to get back into their ducts, and when I open them, Joey is standing on the threshold between the kitchen and the living room.
He’s not wearing a suit, just a T-shirt and jeans.
But it’s one of those shirts that’s fitted, not one that he got at T-shirt night at a ballgame.
Shit, it’s not fair he had to be a dick and that good looking. He’s not Nico. He’s Joey. And Joey is a disappointment. I will keep repeating that until I believe it. And he’s underwhelmed by my existence, so… yeah. It’s not going to work.
“You’ve managed to turn my entire family against me,” he says, but there’s not the malice I expected.
“What am I supposed to do with that information?” I didn’t actively campaign for his family’s support. I called my new friends for advice. That’s it.
He squints at me and then looks out the window in the living room. “Nothing. I’m the one who fucked up. And it’s a testament to what kind of person you are.”
“Or it could be that you’re a piece of shit, and your family knows it.” Shut up shut up! Why am I still talking?
But he laughs. “I guess both can be true.” And his laughter is incredible. It’s infectious. Powerful. And I get the impression it’s rare. “I am sorry for invading your privacy and yet not invading it enough to do a full internet search on you.”
Ok… play it cool. “I’m keeping the money,” the impulse driver of my brain blurts out. He raises an eyebrow a tiny bit. “And I want my membership restored.”
“Are you extorting me into forgiveness?”
“I think so.”
He laughs again. “Game respects game.” He nods his head toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee and donuts if you want some.”
“For the record, you were forgiven when I smelled the coffee.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t believe it’s that easy.”
I shrug my shoulders. “The extortion was just a warm-up. I’m going to bring this fearsome beast down to the builder’s office and see if I can threaten him into cutting the shit and let me move into my new home on time.”
“Oh, a shake down?” Joey grins as I hook Kingston to his harness. “I kinda want to see that.”
“Are you mocking me? Questioning my skills?”
He side-smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest. “No, you hustled thirty-six grand out of me in five minutes. This guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
That is a lot of money, and he should be more pissed about it. “It’s thirty blocks away.”
“Whatever. I’ve got a free day.”
“Are you sure?” I look at his clothes that are not designed to keep you cool in the summer heat. Sure, he looks good but how practical is it? “It’s a looooong walk.” I don’t need him getting all dehydrated and passing out. Or worse, bitching and moaning the whole time.
He side-eyes me while standing and shoving his wallet in his pocket. “Believe it or not, I’ve been walking for a while now. I can handle it.”
It’s going to take more convincing than that. “Do you have money on your metro card in case you want to bail?”
Joey hooks up Kingston and grabs the poop bags as he ushers me out the front door. “Oh, now I’m going with you just to be fucking petty.”
It’s one of those mild days in July. The shadows of the buildings keep the sidewalk coolish. Kingston is a fall and winter dog; he’s going to hate this. But the novelty of having Joey with us might be enough to keep his furry butt trotting along.
Joey and I continue in silence. Or, at least, my mouth isn’t moving.
The Narrator Lady, on the other hand, is replaying every memory I’ve ever had walking down this same path, before she moves on to replaying that time I beat my top score in Bubble Princess Sparkles.
All of it comes to a screeching halt when Joey asks, “Are you seeing anyone?”
“It’s been kind of a dry spell.”
He huffs. “Considering I’ve met your last boyfriend, it’s probably a good thing. I question your judgment.”
“Well, fuck you very much.” Kingston stops and sniffs the same trash can he does every time. “It didn’t start off bad.”
“It never does.”
Someone is hammering in inconsistent intervals, and the beeping of a truck backing up is coming from somewhere.
Maybe a block over. The smell of charred meat fills the air, and it’s hard to tell where it’s coming from, other than it’s getting stronger.
Kingston lifts his head to sniff the air.
Come on, Jenny. Focus on the conversation.
“At first it was kinda nice, having someone look out for me. And I liked the sex. Then he started telling me what to wear, what to eat… He always had good reasons, and I guess I understood where he was coming from. But when he wanted me to stop my meds, that was the final straw.”
Joey drags his hand down his face. “Fuck. Seriously? Which ones?” We pass an orange detour sign, sending people onto our street.
Now the construction sounds make sense, it's one block over. In a coffee shop window, there’s a sign for a festival…
today. Hence the smells and the music. Got it. Everything is clicking together.
“ADHD and birth control,” I say. “It’s the fastest way to send my life into pure chaos.”
Kingston finds a mailbox to pee on, but it’s different from the others he normally marks.
“I mean, I liked it during sex. Tell me what to do and it’s one less thing I need to think about. But when he started treating me like shit, he instantly became less attractive.” I grin. “Like you.”
Music from the street festival, one block to the left, switches to a bass-heavy song, and the buildings around us rattle. It’s not a song I recognize, but it’s off beat with the jackhammering and construction on the street to the right of us. Both sounds battle to steal my attention away from Joey.
Joey gasps. “I’m offended. I have not treated you like shit.
I simply tried to murder you, accused you of lying, violated your privacy, and questioned the quality of your livelihood.
” He pauses as we stand on a street corner.
He drags his hand down his face again and looks up to the sky with a loud sigh.
“Yeah, I hear it now.” Then he brightly adds, “But I brought you coffee.”
I have to shout my reply a little louder because of the approaching noise. “Yeah, it sucks you were such an asshole. Otherwise, you’d be kinda hot,” I admit, and the words come with instant regret.
“Again, you offend me. ‘Kinda hot’? You’ve cut me to my core. You’d be equally as hot if you weren’t annoyingly charismatic and infected everyone I care about with your fucking sunshiny personality. No wonder Waverly likes you.”