Chapter 4 Nina
Nina
“Hey, Nina!” Lynnie called from the kitchen, her voice echoing over clanging trays. “We just got orders to cater a baby shower and a bachelorette party!”
“That’s awesome!” I called back, forcing some pep into my tone.
“That’s you, girl!” She poked her head out with a wide grin. “Both of them said they found us because of some hashtag you used.”
I smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’ve been doing a few reels and testing different tags. Turns out, quirky nineties vibes are conversion gold.”
She tilted her head, teal and pink streaks swinging with the motion, brows knitting. “I have no idea what that means. But keep doing it.”
“We’ve also been getting more coffee-and-cupcake-on-the-go customers,” I added, hoping it came off as good news.
She just waved a dismissive hand. “Look at you, all invested!” Then her face brightened again. “Anyway, it’s payday! We should go out and celebrate tonight.”
In my mind, it wasn’t payday. It was prescription refill day.
Another few hundred bucks would go straight to my meds.
I hadn’t had an acute episode in the past month, but I was still uninsured and without enough money for temporary insurance.
Basically, I was one serious episode away from needing a hospital visit.
And if I ended up in the hospital, I’d be truly fucked.
Insurance. Moving into a cheaper studio, hopefully one without a moldy ceiling, was the only way to scrape together the almost eight hundred dollars I’d need to keep coverage.
I had forty-four days to enroll, or I’d lose it.
Without Vinny cosigning, no landlord would have me. Another tiny chunk of dignity gone.
“I can’t tonight,” I said, searching for an excuse before she insisted on paying for me again. “I have to … see my cousin.”
“Oh?” Lynnie asked, blinking. “I know your aunt and uncle sucked, how’s your cousin?”
“He’s family.” I hesitated. “You know how that is.”
“We’re your family too.”
I looked away. Lynnie and Maddie were really trying to make up for lost time.
Picking up where we left off as if we’d never been estranged.
I couldn’t do it. Her determination to rewrite the last eight years of my life was sweet.
Truth was, I didn’t have the energy to let people in.
I’d get used to people helping, and when they stopped, I wouldn’t be able to keep my head above water.
Vinny and Lincoln had stayed close friends even after they left for college. My cousin and I weren’t close, but we’d had our moments. And I had no other options.
“I guess that’s a no?” Lynnie pushed.
“Maybe another time. I really need to talk to my cousin.”
Lynnie’s expression folded into something between a pout and a frown. “Nina … Mom and I never stopped thinking about you. She was convinced your aunt and uncle were bad news. And now—”
“It’s okay,” I said, my chest tightening. “I promise. We’ll hang out soon, yeah?”
She nodded reluctantly, wiping her hands on her apron. “Just … remember he’s not the only one you’ve got, alright?”
I gave her another forced smile, my throat tight when her arms wrapped me in a hug. She just kept handing them out without hesitation. Maybe they cost her nothing. For me, the price of trusting, of letting people in …. I couldn’t even fathom how I’d begin to afford that.
As I stepped into the humid evening air, wind thrashing my hair around, doubt settled heavy in my chest. Vinny had to help me. He was family. He had to.
I climbed the cracked aged stone steps to Vinny’s two-flat building, the early evening drizzle sticking my hair to my cheeks and neck. With each step, my anxiety grew, knowing I’d have to admit the depth of my failure to my cousin.
His Jeep sat parked out front in the driveway.
It was flashy in bright blue with a sunroof, which was likely a more expensive add-on than my monthly rent.
Just as I was about to ring, Miranda, his first-floor tenant, came out with a large stroller and her baby.
After helping her, I climbed the stairs to his apartment on the second floor, unclenching and clenching my fists before knocking on the door.
“Yo, pizza’s here!” Vinny shouted from inside. A second later, he appeared at the door in a tank top and basketball shorts. His light-brown waves were greasy and mussed, and his eyes hardened when he registered it was me standing there.
“Nina? What are you doing here?”
My lips curled into something closer to a grimace than a smile. “Hey. I, uh, I need to talk to you.”
He frowned. “Now’s not a great time. I’m leaving for a trip tomorrow, and I have—”
“Just five minutes.” I pushed past him into the living room. My pulse thundered in my ears. The blinds were drawn halfway, letting in slats of yellow-gray light over well-kept furniture and stacked, unopened mail.
Lounging on the oversized sectional by the huge windows, beer in hand, was the last person I wanted around for this. Lincoln. In his blue-eyed, blond-haired, dimpled-smile awesomeness. The tones of the dusk sky formed a halo around him. Really, life? A halo?
With a leg stretched over the ottoman, he was scrolling through his phone, wearing casual gray jeans and an open flannel shirt. His eyes flicked up lazily, locking onto me, and he tipped his bottle to me, malicious amusement curling at the corners of his mouth.
Great. Just fucking great.
“Look what desperation dragged in. Is she still cleaning your room, Vinny?” Lincoln drawled, taking a sip.
Vinny laughed weakly. “Shut up, man.”
“Ah,” Lincoln said, drawing out the syllable until he gave it an edge. His gaze raked over me, lingering on my drenched sneakers, then he tipped his head to the cupcake logo on my shirt. “So, Reyes, did you bring us any cupcakes?”
My throat closed around my words, but I forced them out anyway. “I came to talk to my cousin, not you.” I faced Vinny. “Can we talk for a minute, please?”
Vinny tensed, the muscles in his forearms showing, before he glanced at Lincoln and then me. “You can just say whatever now; if you’d called, I’d have told you it wasn’t a good time.”
Typical Vinny. Dickhead level always rose around Lincoln.
I exhaled, readying to bid farewell to my dignity. “I need a favor, Vin. I need to move to a cheaper studio, but … I can’t provide two months rent up front, so I need a cosigner. Just until I build back up. Please.”
Vinny tapped on the doorframe, a restless rhythm that filled the silence. Nothing good would come out of this pause. Vinny’s eyes darted from Lincoln to me. “I don’t know, Nins. That’s … risky.”
“It wouldn’t cost you anything,” I rushed out, voice trembling. “Just your signature.”
Then the quietness continued, adding weight. Shame wrapped around the words as I drowned in need and humiliation.
Lincoln chuckled softly, and the sound scraped down my spine as if made of broken glass. “Listen to yourself. Begging. Kind of pathetic.”
I ignored him, turning back to Vinny, desperation clawing up my chest. “Please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent. You know I need to cover expenses other than rent.”
I stepped into my cousin’s eyeline, forcing him to meet my eyes.
His pupils dilated, and the pulse on his neck kicked up.
His gaze swirled with apprehension and understanding.
He knew I needed insurance. And for a second, I almost breathed out relief.
His steely eyes met my brown ones with … care. He’d help me.
Lincoln snickered.
And Vinny’s gaze fell from mine as he scratched the nape of his neck, shrinking into the awkward space between obligation and self-preservation. Any hope I had inside me, burned and crashed all the same. “Nins, you know what they say, don’t mix money and friendships.”
I huffed, eyes going wide, fingers twitching. I glimpsed Lincoln covering a laugh with his fist. The nerve. I’d helped Vinny with homework and girls and watched his parents take my hard-earned money to give to him to go have fun.
“Vinny, I’m not a friend,” I said, seething. “I’m family. Wasn’t that your parents’ point when I moved in with you guys? We’re family?”
Lincoln rolled his eyes, mocking me. “Come on, Vinny, she’s family.”
My cousin’s eyes fluttered, betraying the effort it took to keep himself together. Come on, Vinny, help me.
Lincoln stood, one hand holding his elbow and the other scratching his chin. “You know what would do it?” He leaned in, voice dropping and smile widening. “Beg. On your knees.”
Vinny’s cheeks turned red as he glanced at Lincoln, who nodded encouragingly. My throat tightened. Vinny didn’t tell him to cut it out and wouldn’t look at me.
“Sorry, cuz.” Vinny sounded apologetic, but he wasn’t. If he truly was, he’d help me. “My credit can’t take you missing a payment—”
“I won’t, Vinny, I swear.” My lip quivered. “Please.”
Lincoln took a swig of his beer and set it down with a thud. “She said please, Vin. Touching.”
Something snapped. I turned on Lincoln, pointing a trembling finger at his chest. “Stay out of this. You know nothing about me.”
He raised his brows, the dimples cutting deep into his cheeks as his smile widened. “Oh, but I do, don’t I?”
Clenching my fists at my sides, I lunged toward Lincoln until we were inches apart, squaring up, then jabbed his sternum with my index finger. “You know I worked my ass off at that job, Lincoln.”
His eyes widened almost imperceptibly. He was right about one thing—desperation does do things to you.
Vinny cleared his throat, and I looked back at him. “It’s not personal. I just … can’t take the risk.”
His words feel on my chest, each of them a brick with perfectly aimed to crush my hope. I swallowed against the bile rising up my throat. Defeated, I stepped away from Lincoln and toward the door.
Lincoln snorted softly, then laughed. The sound slashed through me. His pale-blue gaze held none of that shared sorrow I’d once seen in them. No, his glacial stare was overflowing rage and mockery.
“Nina, have some dignity, yeah?” His teeth peeked out in his smirk.