Up until yesterday, I’d been in hell with my migraines. When Garrett prescribed some medication to me, I saw such a difference. I couldn’t look at my phone without blinding pain assaulting me. Now I can do a lot of things I couldn’t do even just last week.
Again, I could kiss that man.
“As much as I’d love to stick around and play house with your sexy ass, we really do have to get going,” Cal says, leaning over to kiss his girl. “Loden on his way?”
“Should be here any minute.”
The moment her loud-ass, flirtatious gay friend saunters into the cabin, Cal and I bail. I’m not sure what my surprise is, but his excitement is contagious. Whatever he has in mind is going to make me happy.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been happy.
The sun is bright today, despite the recent snow, and is blinding. I squint against the harsh rays until Cal pulls his sunglasses off and hands them to me.
“Put those on,” he instructs.
Reluctantly, I obey. Only because I can tell the bright lights will send me down the tube of despair all too quickly if I’m not careful.
Just one more thing to add to the list of shit that makes my life difficult these days.
“You gonna tell me what’s up, man?” I ask as we drive in silence, the usual music blaring out of Cal’s speakers absent.
“I got you a job.”
All the excitement I’d felt fizzles out. Dread trickles through my veins. I can barely look at my phone, much less a computer screen. Shit’s fucked up in my head right now.
“Are you fucking for real?” I groan.
“Hell yeah, I am. You need it, T. Not because of the money. For your sanity. Now that you have some meds, you can get a handle on your life. I hate feeling like you’re slipping away from me.”
His words hit me in the gut, making me clench my teeth and glare out the window. I thought I was doing a damn good job of keeping that shit from Cal. Apparently I have suicide risk written all over my face.
“I’m not slipping away from you,” I grunt out. “Chill already.”
“I’m not gonna chill,” he says in that stubborn-ass way of his that always infuriates me. “I’ll fix it. I’ll fix you.”
Oh, come the fuck on.
“I don’t need fixing,” I grit out. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, physically, you are,” he agrees. “That motherfucker nearly killed you and it destroyed your fucking body, but you’re not fine up here.” He taps the side of his head. “And not because your head was crushed in. Because all that time in the dark and now in pain, it’s fucking with you. It’s leading you down a path you won’t come back from. I read up—”
“Hold up,” I snap, barking out a harsh laugh. “You read up? On fucking what?”
“You, asshole. People like you. Victims of head injuries and comatose patients. The forum I follow is a wealth of information. You’re fucking depressed and I can see the light in your eyes dimming each day.”
I go to roll my eyes, but the action makes me wince in pain. Instead, I kick my big-ass foot up on the dash and slouch in my seat, pouting like a goddamn kid.
Like her.
All thoughts of being pissed at my best friend and overwhelmed by my own situation disappear as the image of that young girl I saw yesterday come to mind. Trembling bottom lip. Dark skin a few shades lighter than my own. Saddest fucking eyes on the planet.
She’s mine.
She has to be.
“I’m sorry,” Cal mutters. “I’m not trying to overstep. I’m trying to help you. I love you and want what’s best for you. If it comes off as being an asshole, then too damn bad. I’ve known you since we were little kids. We’re brothers in every way that counts. Brothers don’t let each other fade into nothing.”
“I know,” I grumble. “I’m just being a dick. Truth is, I don’t think I can do it, man. The computers are hard on me.”
He snorts. “You don’t think I know that? I’ve negotiated a job for you that requires zero computer work. I promise you’re gonna like this gig. Trust me?”
“Unfortunately.”
My phone buzzes and I pull it out, bringing the screen close to my face so I can see it, to find a text from Grandma.
Grandma: Come get your mail, Terry.
Me: I will later. I still need to grab the rest of my shit.
Grandma: How you feeling?
Me: Fine.
Grandma: I can see your lying face all the way over here.
Me: Not lying. See you soon.
Cal pulls into the staff parking lot at the high school, making me snap my head his way.
“Oh hell naw,” I grind out. “The fuck you didn’t.”
“The fuck I did.”
The dickhead grins at me.
I could barely deal with this shit hole when I went here, much less now. I’m shaking my head in defiance.
“I’m not cut out to be a teacher. What part about I can’t look at a goddamn computer could you not understand?”
“When you’re done throwing your pity bitch party, get out and let’s go see Karen. She’s waiting on us and you know how she hates tardiness.” He smirks before climbing out.
I fling off the sunglasses and follow after him, plumes of rage puffing out in white clouds with each angry breath I take. While Cal strides along without a care in the world, I try not to limp. The pain that slides from my hip down to my fucking toes is unbearable sometimes. Just another complication from the accident.
We make it inside and Cal leads us to the main office. I spent more time in Ms. Frazier’s office than in class. This is some fucked-up shit.
“Hey, boys,” Karen greets upon our entry in her office. “Have a seat.”
It’s the weekend and still winter break, so Karen is dressed casually in jeans and an orange Hood River hoodie. Cal and I plop down in the two seats across from her desk. Anxiety creeps up my spine, cooling my blood. I’m reminded of the many times I spent in this office, about to get my ass reamed for whatever shit I pulled. Grandma rode my ass so hard in high school. It takes a conscious effort to remind myself I’m a grown-ass man now.
“Hey, Karen,” Cal greets, sprawling out in his seat and flashing her a wicked grin. “Asked to speak to any managers lately?”
I snort out a laugh because he is such a fucking asshole all the time.
“Cal, sweetheart,” Karen says in her bitchy principal voice. “Remember you’re an adult now, not a bratty teenager.”
“My bad,” he states, holding his palms up. “I forgot.” He laughs. “Tell my boy what you have for him.”
Karen glances my way, the irritation melting off her face as she regards me with a soft smile. “You need a job, huh?”
“If you say so,” I grumble, still pissed at Cal.
“We need a new music teacher.” She smirks and I make a horrified face. “Kidding. Calm down. The girls’ basketball coach had her baby. She’s informed me she won’t be back after maternity leave. It leaves me in quite a bind considering tryouts are supposed to happen this week. The girls have games starting in January. We need someone who knows what they’re doing.”
I gape at her in confusion. “You want me to coach?”