Page 46 of More For Me

Bodhi

Things are off with Everly. It’s impossible not to notice. She’s been spending way more time at the store and the FEA Threads offices. She said she’s busy with the third location opening, but that’s not happening until autumn. And I’ve noticed Fox and Alex don’t seem to be overly concerned about the work load.

I think she’s avoiding me. When she’s not at work she’s usually at her parents’ or visiting with a cousin. Normally, I would be invited along to those get-togethers. Hell, normally I wouldn’t even wait for an invitation. But everything between us feels…weird right now. Fragile. And I don’t like it.

On the plus side, her cousins and sisters seem to have finally given up on Team Bodhi. They were not at all happy about the rollercoaster that we took them on during on our Disney “date.” Apparently, they got pretty excited when they saw the pictures of us getting closer and closer. Then pretty freaked out when we sent the engagement picture.

It was the picture with Snake, and our texts about her running away, that finally convinced them it was all a joke. According to Santana, that makes us “super mean.” I think Cecelia was the only one who wasn’t mad at us—if anything she was pissed that Vega dragged her around with those girls from school. Apparently, they spent most of the day talking about clothes and boys. Not exactly CeCe’s scene.

It would seem that our plan to mess with the Ransomes worked. So why is Everly acting so weird now? Most of it was her idea—I never would have chosen to go through with that proposal picture. It actually made me feel kind of sick, though I couldn’t say that to her, and I didn’t want to think too hard about the reasons why it didn’t feel like just another funny joke.

But the vibe definitely changed at some point that night. Maybe she didn’t like what I told Snake? Maybe she could tell that I was about three seconds from kissing her before the fireworks started?

Or maybe it was something else entirely. Because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one thinking about a kiss that night.

Change is hard for her,I remind myself, over and over. She told me that just last week when we were hanging out in my room. I always knew I was going to have to be patient with her if anything ever happened. For as impulsive as she might seem to anyone else, I know that girl. And when it comes to the important stuff, she needs to take her time. Feel her way through.

Still, my mood is off for the entire week of barely seeing her. It doesn’t help that we’re approaching the end of the marking period at school and I’m bogged down with grading papers. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to have my students turn in persuasive arguments instead of just handing out a multiple-choice test to keep them busy. Me and my stupid standards for teaching.

I’m at my desk with a pile of those papers when my sister texts me during fifth period on Thursday.

Nisha:Hey little brother. Just wanted to check in with you about food for tomorrow. I’m going to place the order at Angelina’s tonight. Leo will be there, right?

I stare at the phone in shock. Holy fuck. How on earth did I not realize what week this is? A wave of guilt hits me, so staggering and overwhelming that I slump back in my chair, eyes searching my calendar and sure enough—my brother’s birthday is tomorrow.

I close my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach. What iswrongwith me? How could I have possibly forgotten? Usually, my mom would be calling more often this time of year. She tries to put on a brave face, insists she’s just checking in, but I know that’s not it, so I make it a point to call her at least as often as she calls me. Every day, most years. She needs to connect with her children. She needs us to cheer her up, distract her.

And I have completely failed her this year.

I pull up my recent outgoing calls and see the predictable list. Fox. Leo. Rose. Everly. Nisha. Mom. Her name should be there way more than it is. We haven’t talked once this week.

“You okay, Mr. Lakra?” a kid asks, and I look up to see several of my students watching me with wide eyes. Shit. I’m sweating and my breathing is coming in all choppy. Is this what a panic attack feels like?

I wipe my forehead and force a smile. “Definitely. Get back to your quizzes, please. Only fifteen minutes left.”

There’s a smattering of grumbles as the kids’ heads go back down. Once they’re all occupied, I reach for my phone with a shaky hand.

Bodhi:Thanks for placing the order. I’m sure Leo will be there. I’ll take care of dessert.

The offer does little to ease my guilt. What the hell kind of son forgets an anniversary like this?

Fix it,I tell myself, scrolling through the photos on my phone. I find a saved cat video that I haven’t shared before, and send it off to my mother. The woman loves cat videos. And cat memes. As far as she’s concerned, the internet was only invented to provide her with cat-based entertainment. Which is kind of weird, seeing as how she’s never owned a cat.

Then I pull up a news site and scan the sports headlines. Next comes a text to my dad.

Bodhi:You watch the Dodgers game last night? Can’t believe that call in the seventh.

I release a breath, feeling a little better now that I’ve put some effort in. But I should have been doing that all week. Hell, I should have been doing that for the last several weeks. I know how my parents get during this time. Nisha tries, bringing the kids over to distract them more often, but she’s busy. With kids and a husband, as well as her full-time job, my sister’s hands are full.

No, this shit should be my responsibility. It always has been.

Again, I don’t see Everly that night, but this time I hardly notice. I’m too busy going through old photographs and messing around with image software. I’m already planning to call in sick tomorrow so I can finish this project and make sure to get our order from the bakery in plenty of time. Even if I didn’t have shit to do, I’m not sure I could stand to be in the classroom.

Then, on Friday morning, I get even worse news.

“Hey,” Leo says as soon as I answer the call, his tone frustrated. “I have a problem.”

I push my laptop away, immediately on alert. There are few things Leo Malone hates more than asking for help. The fact that he’s calling me can’t be a good sign.