Never Been Kissed(16)

“How’s Matty?”

“He’s awesome. I asked how you were.”

There’s a scratching sound, like a sheet? “Fine. They’re going to keep me overnight. Did you get his things?” He sounds like he’s so happy to talk to me. Not.

“Sure did. You’re an awesome artist. Matty promised me you’d draw me something.” I throw a grin at Matty, pushing back the cake tin on the stove top.

“No,” Hunter says.

“No?” I stare at the clock on the stove top, telling me the time without seeing it. My friends should be here in a half hour. I should at least make an effort and change. Maybe put on some make-up.

“No.” Again, deadpan and resolute. The word is an insurmountable wall.

Heat boils in my belly. I bite down on my back molars, facing away from the kid. “I’ll pay you.” This isn’t important, I know it isn’t. People say no all the time. I’ve been rejected most of my life. Instead of giving me a thicker skin, I’ve been flayed so many times, my skin’s peeling off.

With him, I don’t want to be rejected. I don’t deserve to be rejected for something like this, a bloody drawing.

“Still a no.” He’s not going to budge, the steel in his voice says so.

My spine stiffens, my knees lock. “You want to speak to your son?” I don’t wait for an answer. I put my thumb on the mic and let Matty know I’m going to go change real quick. The little guy nods and I hand him the phone.

In the safety of my room, I try to hide. I look at all my posters- the classic Batman insignia of the black bat set in yellow; the Dark Knight Rises movie poster with Bane walking away in the distance. I look over to my bookcase, hundreds of books settled there, the spines broken in, white wrinkles of strain running up and down their lengths. My king-size bed because I move around a lot when I sleep. The decal on my laptop that says Goonies never say die.

Is this it? Am I always going to need this place to hide from life? Why does it feel like giving up? Shame burns hot in my throat. I’m not sure how it came to this, how my life went from one big imagined adventure to ... existing.

I hurry and grab clothes; jeans and a tank that says Stay Gold, my ode to one of my favourite books, The Outsiders. I run to the bathroom and do the girly thing, concentrating on my eyes – my nicest feature.

When I come out, Matty is still on my phone, giggling. Who knew Hunter was capable of telling a joke?

“I’ll sleep well, Daddy, promise. Sera wants to talk to you,” he says, holding out my cell to me.

Little con artist, I did not! I grab the phone. “Quick question for you,” I say fast, not wanting him to interrupt. “I’m having some friends over and I was wondering if you think that’s a good idea.”

“Like I give a fuck who you have over,” he growls, that scratching noise comes through the phone again.

Pain lances through my brain, and I wonder if getting pissed off at Hunter is going to cause me to have a brain aneurysm. “Look arsehole, I don’t know who pissed in your Corn Flakes this morning, but I’m trying to be polite here. Most people return the favour. Is it okay for Matty to be around strangers or do you want him just to hang with me tonight?” I say through clenched teeth.

Hunter’s quiet for a time, wasting precious seconds of my time then clears his throat. “When are they coming over?”

“Half hour.”

“Why are you asking me?”

I’m going to throw my phone at the wall. “Because maybe I’m being considerate. I can see my friends any bloody time I want. I can’t be with Matty all the time, right? So what’s it gonna be? Yes or no? Tic-toc-tic-toc.”

Hunter curses on his end. More scratchy sounds against the mic on his phone. “Yeah, it’s fine. Gotta go. Nurse Nazi’s found me.” Disconnect.

Huh. I stare down at my phone, wondering if I just won an argument.

“Sera, can I have this cake?” I turn to see Matty staring at the cake tin, like he’s been hypnotized by the smell and potential taste. Matty asks it like he knows the answer is going to be no, still hoping for a yes.

“Of course you can. I made it special so you can have a piece.”

His blue eyes get big, his mouth drops open, like I’ve handed him the Elder Wand. He rushes to me, colliding with my quads, wrapping his arms around my legs. He tilts his head back, chin resting on my leg, hair falling back and spiking out in an arc around his head. “Thank you. I wish I was here every day!”

I snort-chuckle. “I bet you do.”

“Can we watch Finding Nemo?”

I nod. “I’m going to cover my eyes when Bruce comes in. I’m afraid of sharks.” Matty finds that hilarious. I don’t. Five rows of sharp teeth, black, soulless eyes, and the capability to smell a drop of blood in a mile radius? Nope.