43. Chapter 43
Hunter
Two weeks later
Cody’s been locked in on a makeup assignment for the past twenty minutes. Now he’s starting to shift, tapping his pen harder on the table.
I walk over and set the sandwich down next to him. “Eat.”
He pulls one AirPod out and looks up. “Huh?”
“Take a break and eat something.” I sit in the chair next to him, then push the plate closer. “It’s chicken, avocado, and tomato.”
“Thanks.” He takes one half and bites into it. “Fuck, this is good.”
“Or you’re just hungry.” I take a swig from the can of Fanta, watching him stare at the laptop screen. “Those audio files helping?”
“It’s easier than reading. But sometimes none of it sticks. Like I hear the words, but they don’t sink in.”
“Probably because of the meds. And your body’s still healing.” I lean in and kiss his temple. “Give it time.”
He sighs. “I know.”
I sit back, taking another swig of pop as he changes to the next slide.
Some of his friends have been sending recorded lectures.
Other times, Atlas and I record audio for written notes, so he can listen instead of read.
Started doing it because the pain meds make him dizzy.
But Atlas read somewhere it helps with dyslexia too.
Cody takes too big a bite of his sandwich, huffing as he pulls the remaining AirPod from his ear. “This is the second time I’m listening, and I still don’t get it.”
I scoot my chair closer. “Show me.”
He angles the laptop, so I can see the scatterplot graph. “Doyle’s audio walked me through it step-by-step, but I don’t understand what I’m looking at.”
“Okay, where are you getting stuck?”
Cody drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “It’s . . . I know what the bottom means, then I look at the side, then I forget what the bottom was. And by the time I figure out the dots, I’ve lost the question.”
“Then don’t look at the whole thing.” I tap the bottom of the graph. “Start here. Money spent.”
He nods.
I move my finger to the side. “Money made.”
“Okay.”
“One dot at a time.”
Cody stares at the screen. His eyes move from the bottom axis to the side, then back again. His pen starts tapping.
“Go slow. Use your finger.”
He glares at me, but after a second, he puts his finger on the first dot.
“Good.” I run my thumb over the tab on the can of Fanta as he works through a few dots. “What do you notice?”
Cody’s finger pauses on one near the bottom left. “They didn’t spend much here.”
“And?”
“They didn’t make much.” He moves to another dot farther right, higher up. “Spent more here. Made more.”
I nod.
He keeps going, slower this time. One dot. Then another. “It mostly goes up.”
“What does?”
“The sales.” His finger traces near the trend line without touching it. “When the ad spend goes up, sales usually go up too.”
“Usually?”
He looks back at the graph, then taps a dot sitting lower than the others. “This one didn’t. They spent more, but it didn’t make as much.”
“Outlier.”
His mouth twitches. “Show-off.”
“ You found it.”
He stares at the screen again, quiet for a few seconds. Then he leans back in his chair and exhales. “So, it’s not saying more spending always means more sales. Just that there’s a relationship.”
“A positive relationship.”
He points his pen at me. “Don’t ruin this for me.”
I take another swig of pop, hiding my smile behind the can.
Cody rubs his eyes, then reaches for the other half of his sandwich. “How was therapy this morning?”
“Didn't have therapy.”
He pauses mid-bite. “It was one of those meetings?”
I stare at him.
He rolls his eyes, nearly shoving the whole half of the sandwich into his mouth. Our little Titan may have set boundaries when it comes to our darker shit, but it doesn't stop him from making sure we know he hates it every chance he gets.
I set the can down. “The meeting was with my advisor.”
“Oh.” He swallows, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Anything serious?”
“Picked a major.”
Cody turns toward me, shoving my shoulder. “Are you serious right now? Don't just sit there. Tell me what you chose.”
“Culinary arts.”
“What’s that?” Davis strolls into the kitchen. “Like some kind of drawing or painting stuff?”
Cody huffs, closing his laptop. “What do you want?”
Five years of breaking up fights between Atlas and his siblings. Now it's these two. Different house. Same shit. Though, most days Cody and Davis get along.
The youngest Jenkins shoves his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “What’s culinary arts, butthead?”
“I’m majoring in cooking,” I say.
Cody points a finger at his little brother. “Don’t start.”
Davis not only rolls his eyes, but his head too. “I didn’t say anything. Yet. Anyway, can I go over to Lennin’s?”
Cody waves him off. “Yeah, sure. But take your key. Hunter and I are leaving for PT in an hour.”
Davis just stands there for a second, then looks at me.
I nod.
Cody mumbles, “Thought you hated him. Now you’re asking his permission.”
Davis yanks the strings of his hoodie tight until only his nose is visible. “Ugh, why are you such a butthead!”
The youngest Jenkins is still wary of me. He doesn’t leave the room anymore when I walk in, but he’s not as friendly as he used to be. It bothers me. Mrs. Jenkins said he’ll get past it in time. Hope she’s right.
I clear my throat. “Davis, there’s a sandwich for you on the counter. Grab it before you go.”
He takes it, then starts to head back to the living room.
Cody slaps the table. “Seriously? Say thank you.”
Davis sticks his tongue out at Cody, then looks at me. “Thanks. Oh, and Atlas is still my favorite.”
Cody throws his pen at his little brother as Davis runs out of the kitchen laughing. “He’s such a pest.”
“You’re the same. Mouthy. Runs in the family, eh?”
“Oh, shut up.” He leans over and kisses my cheek. “But thanks. For the sandwich and for helping me with my assignments.”
“No thanks needed.”
“You know, Atlas has all these plans on taking Blue with him to Philly. He even bought a Flyers collar. Like my dog is wearing anything but my team’s logo.”
“He’s not taking the dog.”
Cody chuckles. “We both know he’ll just dognap him. Probably wait until you’re in North Carolina, so you can’t stop him.”
My jaw clenches but relaxes a moment later. Haven’t decided what I want to do about the NHL yet. But I still have time.
I stand and grab Cody’s empty plate when he squirms in the chair again. “Go rest on the couch before we leave.”
“Yeah, okay. I’m done looking at graphs anyway. They make my eyes hurt.”
Cody makes his way to the living room as I load the dishwasher.
There was a time I didn’t think past the next hour. The next hunt. The next thing I had to do to survive. Now I have a future.
Don’t know what it looks like yet. But Atlas and Cody are in it. And that’s all I need.