She crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me up and down. “Better than you it seems. Who screwed you over?”
“Me.”
“Huh?”
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“Robbie Cross, don’t ‘it’s nothing’ me. We have history, but we’re still friends. Talk to me. Maybe I can help, offer a woman’s insight and all that.”
She’s not wrong…
I glance back at the car, making sure Xavie’s still okay, and lean in close, dropping my voice to just above a whisper.
“You’ve met Miss Andrews, right?”
Her dark brows slash together. “Our son’s teacher? Of course I have. What about her?”
“She’s…um…” I scratch at my beard again. “We were kind of dating.”
She balks at my confession. “Shut the fuck up, Robbie. No you weren’t.”
“We were, Hol, and it was getting serious too.”
“Was? What happened?”
“Well, we found out she was Xavie’s teacher, thought we could make it work and keep things quiet during the school year. We went out on Sunday and, yeah, things did not go as planned. We ran into Mr. Donahue.”
Holly groans. “Oh god. Of all the people, it had to be that fuckhead? I hated him. He was such a twerp to Xavie.”
“I know, and of course he remembered me.”
“Probably because you threatened his life a time or two.”
“I think you’re exaggerating that a smidge.”
She squints, tilting her head. “Am I?”
I chuckle and continue. “Anyway, we tried to play it off like we weren’t together.”
“But that dick is perceptive.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Let’s just say he’s not too happy about my relationship with Monty and is threatening her with the…information he has on us.”
“You’re choosing your words very wisely, which is unlike you. That means there’s something you’re not telling me.”
I open my mouth to speak again and she holds her hand up, silencing me.
“It’s fine, I get it,” she says. “Now when you say things were getting serious between you two, you mean…”
“Dating. We were dating. It was official boyfriend-girlfriend type shit.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Is this weird for you? To talk about this?”
“We are way past that. I just want you to be happy, Robbie. If it’s with Miss Andrews, then that’s who it’s with.”
“Monty. Her name is Monty.”
“That’s…different, but I suppose it fits her. She’s not your usual type, huh?”
“Not in the slightest, and I think that might be what I like about her most. She’s unique, fresh, fun.”
“Stupid pretty,” Holly interjects.
I wince at the jealousy I hear in her tone and she notices, waving her hand.
“Nope. No. Sorry. Ignore me.”
“She said the same thing about you, if that makes you feel any better. We didn’t know she was Xavie’s teacher until the second parent-teacher meeting.”
Holly’s brown eyes widen. “How is that possible? Did you two not discuss…well, anything?”
“We were doing the light and fluffy thing.”
“Ah, yes. Makes sense. No strings attached—that’s your MO.”
“It’s hard to attach strings when you have a kid in the mix.”
She lifts her hands. “Trust me, I get it. That’s why I kept crawling back to you. It was easy, and easy is always nice.” She huffs. “Look, I’m gonna say something, and I don’t want you to get mad, okay?”
My sagging shoulders lift at her tone, ready for whatever she wants to throw at me. Holly has always been a straight shooter, and it’s one of my favorite things about her.
“Hit me with it.”
“First, I think you’re a fucking moron for breaking up with her.”
I laugh at her bluntness, because it’s so Holly.
“Second, you’re running because you’re scared, because you’re used to easy. You fell into that pattern and it’s hard for you to break it. This girl, though, she challenges you. You like it, but you’re afraid to like it too much.” She gives me a sad smile. “Though based on the way you look right now, I think it’s a little too late for that. So, just give in. Fight for her.”
“Fight for her?” I repeat.
“Oh yeah. Women love it when men do that shit. You’ll learn eventually.”
“You broads are complicated.”
“We just like keeping you on your toes is all.”
“That you do. That you freakin’ do.”
“Seriously, though, Robbie, I’ve never known you to be a quitter. Don’t quit on her when the going gets tough. You didn’t quit on me when I got pregnant and put you through hell the first five years of Xavie’s life, and look where we are now.”
Again, she isn’t wrong. I didn’t quit on her. I couldn’t.
Just like I can’t quit on Monty—not really.
I have to fight for her, for us.
I nod in agreement. “We’re in a good place.”
“Damn straight we are. We’re civil. Hell, I’d even call us friends.”
“That sounds scandalous.”
“I think a lot of people would agree. Now, take your spawn and get the hell off my porch. There’s a glass of wine calling my name and The Bachelor starts in like five minutes.”
I roll my eyes. “Some things never change.”
“When they’re good, why should they?” She winks. “Make sure my kid calls me tonight before bed. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“See ya Sunday. Oh, and Hols? Thank you. Your talk really helped.”
She waves me off. “I know. Now go. Shoo!”
The door slams shut in my face and I can’t help but laugh.
She’s still the same girl she was when I first met her: obsessed with her wine—even though she wasn’t even legally allowed to drink it yet—and in love with those cheesy reality TV shows.
I climb back into the car and hand Xavie his crabs.
“Here. Hold these creepy critters and buckle up.”
“On it, Pops.”
“Pops? That’s a new one.”
“Just something I’m testing out.”
I chuckle and pull out into the street, turning right to head back to our apartment.
“So how was your day, dude? Do anything fun?”
“Mom let me have not one but two donuts for breakfast, and a Yoo-hoo.”
I cringe but remind myself he’s just a kid and deserves a treat every now and then. Besides, a donut sounds damn good right now.
“You guys go to Magic Holes?” Worst donut shop name ever.
“Yep. They were yummy like always. Oh, Dad!” he says excitedly. “Can I take a donut to school tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow? A donut on a school day? I don’t know about that. Donuts are weekend treats, you know that.” And only when you’re with your mom, I want to add but don’t.
“It’s not for me.”
“Then who’s it for?”
“Miss Andrews.”
That pit that’s been forming in my stomach grows at the mention of Monty.
“You want to take your teacher a donut? Why?”
“Because she’s sad. She’s been super sad all week. She keeps smiling like she isn’t, but I can tell, Dad. I can tell.”
“Yeah? How can you tell?”
“You just know it when you know it,” he says, like he’s a little Yoda or some shit.
And people say kids don’t know anything—bull. They can be intuitive little turds sometimes.
“Do you know why she’s sad?”
“Nope. I just know she is. I can ask her if you want.”
“No, buddy, don’t do that. It’s rude.”
“Is bringing her a donut rude too?” he asks hopefully.
“No, that’s not rude at all.”
“Then can we?”
“Well, I guess if it’s for Mon—Miss Andrews, then we can get up early and get a donut.”
“Maybe one for me too.”
“We’ll see.”
My throat tightens as I pull into my apartment complex, thinking of the last time I saw Monty.
It hurts to know she’s miserable, hurts even more to know she’s hurting so much the kids are picking up on it, and it’s all my fault.
The urge to cry begins to swell, which is really fucking stupid because I do not cry, dammit.
I want to though. I also want to scream, and I want to drive to Monty’s place right now, bust down her door, and tell her I’m a dumbass and we should be together.
I should fight for her and for us.
I want a future with her, and I don’t want to give up.
I fucking love her.
I want to tell her all that, because I do.
I love Montana Andrews, and I’m going to make damn sure she knows it.
27
Monty
“Monty!” Denny rattles me from my sleep with her loud screech. “Get your scrawny, pale ass out of bed. You’re going to be late!”
“No, I have another ten minutes.”
“Yeah, ten minutes until you have to leave.”
I spring from the bed, glancing at my phone sitting on my bedside table. Oh cats. “I’m going to be late!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying tell you. Get up!”
“I am, I am!”
I race around my room, pulling clothes on and trying to get my messy mane under control.
I’ve never been late before.
I’ve also never been heartbroken before.
But here I am, doing both.
To say these last few days have been hard would be putting it mildly. I knew ending things with Robbie would hurt, but I didn’t anticipate the sleepless nights or desire for…well, nothing.
I thought I’d wallow for a day or two and that’d be it.
I didn’t think I’d be scrambling to get out the door and get to work on time because I spent most of the night staring at my phone trying to convince myself not to text or call or make every single type of social media account just so I can stalk him.
It’s official, I’ve gone insane.
Mad.
For him, at him.
Me, us.
Everything in between.
I am a complete and total mess right now.
After I finally talked myself down from my near leap into the dark abyss of social media, I made a plan.
Today, I am going to march into Principal Gladden’s office and tell him everything about Robbie and me, all of it—well, maybe not all the crazy sex parts, but still, most of it, and from the beginning.
I’ll tell him this won’t interfere with my job, I will not play favorites with Xavier, and we won’t let him know until he’s out of my classroom. And, if that’s not good enough, I’ll offer to move classes, or districts—anything. I will beg if I need to.
It’s kind of crazy, but I think it’ll work.
Robbie is worth the fight, whether he thinks so or not.
Denny’s standing at the door, holding my lunchbox out to me with a frown as I hastily make my way into the living room.
“I’ll kill him,” she says. “I’ll do it. I have no problem going to jail for my girl. I bet I can make a mean shank.”
“You’ve never seen a shank in your entire life.” I grab my lunch from her hands. “But thank you for the support. I appreciate it. I’ll see you tonight. Love you.”
She grabs my elbow as I go to pass.
“Denny, come on, I’m going to be late.”
Her eyes are filled with worry. “It’s going to be okay, Monty. I promise.”
“I know it will.”
She’s taken aback by my words, but I don’t give her the chance to question me, racing off to my car as fast as my feet will carry me.
The drive is quick, or rather, my driving is quick, because I can’t be late.
I skid into the parking lot with just five minutes to spare, throwing my car into park, grabbing my bag, and racing toward the front door.
I barrel into my room and toss my things onto my desk just as the first student arrives.
Whew. I made it.
Coincidentally, it’s Xavier.
“Mornin’, Miss Andrews.”
“Good morning, Xavie.” His little brows scrunch together because I only call him Xavier. “Oh, sorry. Xavier,” I correct myself. “How was your weekend?”
“Good. I got to have donuts yesterday with my mom. Then when Dad picked me up, I asked if we could get more donuts and he said yes, so I got you one.”
“You brought me a donut?” I ask.
“Yep!” He holds his little finger out to me. “One sec.”
Dropping his backpack to the floor, he spins around and drops to his knees to unzip it.
I can’t help but smile at the fact that he stashed a donut in his backpack.
“Here you go.” He holds a crushed box out to me and frowns when he notices the state it’s in. “Oops. It got smooshed. Dad said that might happen.”
I take the box from his hands. “Thank you, Xavier. That’s very kind of you.” It’s also very convenient since I didn’t have time for breakfast and I am starving.
“What’s the special occasion? Why’d I get a donut?”
He shrugs. “Just because.”
“This is the best just because donut I’ve ever been given. I’ll go ahead and eat it now if you don’t mind.”
He leans in conspiratorially. “Can I have half?”
I burst into laughter and open the box, ripping the donut in half without an ounce of hesitation.
“Here you go, little man. Enjoy.”
He shoves the sugary treat in his mouth, then holds out his thumb and mutters a muffled, “Thanks,” on the way to his seat.
I lift the other half of my donut to take a bite, but then something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.
There is a bright blue sticky note attached to the lid of the donut box.
What the…
I lean in closer to read it.
Donut give up on us.
Robbie.
My heart jumps into my throat for all the right reasons.
I scramble to dig my phone from my bag, forgetting all about my hunger and the delicious donut sitting in front of me.
Me: I didn’t plan on it.
Python: Good. Me either.
Me: That’s not what it seemed like the other day.
Python: Let’s just say I had a lapse in judgment and I’m a fucking idiot.
Python: I am much more smarterer than I was then.
Texting Box Set: The Complete Series Page 63