Page 71 of Studs Up
“Fuck it’s four,” he stopped.
“What?”
“Jesus, I’m sorry, Nolan,” he said.
“It’s fine. Do you feel better now?”
He let out a breath.
“Yeah.”
“Good night, Holden,” I mumbled.
“Thanks, Nolan.”
He hung up, and I lay there staring at my ceiling. I have never felt powerless before. I’ve always had control, but now, with him so far away and I couldn’t hold him, the pain it caused was almost unbearable.
I woke up to a text from Holden asking for my address. I sent him a very skeptical reply, but he insisted that it was for well-intentioned purposes. So against my better judgment, I sent him my address and then waited for whatever bullshit was coming my way.
…
Two days later, a woman knocked on my door in an official delivery outfit with a box labeled Live Plant and a bunch of stamps indicating which way was up and do not turn upside down. My first instinct was to turn it over.
The box had a return address neatly written in the corner. No name, but a Portland address.
It was a bloody fucking cactus, and it came with a note.
The note said:
You’re a prickly asshole at four in the morning.
I didn’t want to smile, but I did. Good god, I was so fucked.
Pulling the thing out of the box included several pricks of the needles and a whole lot of cursing.
It was an oddly shaped thing. Like someone blew some flat cactus bubbles and then randomly stuck them together. It balanced ugly as fuck and kinda cute.
I pulled out my phone and called him. He answered on the second ring.
“How the fuck am I supposed to take care of this?”
“It’s a cactus, you don’t. Put it in the sun and water it when you remember.”
Like I was handling a ticking time bomb, I set it on the window sill facing the sound where it would get the afternoon sun.
“Are you fucking with me, or is this your ego trying to be nice?”
“It’s a thank you,” he said with a laugh.
“You can thank me by bending over, not sending me a fucking cactus.”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“Why not?”
“Do you have to make everything so difficult?” He dropped his voice, and I could hear the playfulness in his tone.
“Yes.”
