My gut burned and I said nothing as I finished soaping up the rest of my body. There was no way I could pay for that shit.

“It’s not a big deal, baby,” she told me, dropping her razor on the side of the tub and raising her hands to my face. “My teeth are straight, I don’t need them.”

No matter what she said, I knew that she needed those four extra months, but there was nothing I could do about it. It pissed me off.

“Sorry,” I told her roughly, pushing her arms off me and turning my body away from her to rinse off.

She was silent for a moment before wrapping her arms around me from behind and squeezing. “Not a big deal, Asa,” she told me quietly before climbing out of the shower.

Chapter 38

Callie

Asa was quiet for the rest of the day, and I knew it bothered him that he couldn’t pay for my braces. I wasn’t sure how to snap him out of the funk he was in, so I didn’t say anything more about them. It was stupid; I didn’t want them anyway. They made me look like a twelve–year-old, they got food stuck in them, and they cut the shit out of my cheeks if I wasn’t careful. Besides, it hadn’t been my idea to get them in the first place. My teeth hadn’t been that bad—the top ones had a little gap between them and the bottom ones had been a little crooked, but it hadn’t bothered me. It was my parents who’d decided that they suddenly had enough money for orthodontia, so I had to get them fixed.

I wished I hadn’t even brought it up to Asa; I could’ve just had them taken off and then told him I didn’t need them anymore. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to get the appointment without telling him I needed around five hundred dollars to pay for it. I hadn’t gotten to that part before he’d gone weird, and I hadn’t wanted to say anything else. I decided to wait on that conversation, hoping to talk to my Gram and see if she could pitch in before I said anything more about it.

Instead, I walked on eggshells around him that day and jumped him at bedtime.

By the next day, things were back to normal—well, normal for us.

We spent the weekend like an old married couple and I loved it. We went to the grocery store and bought a ton of food, rented a Western TV series from the movie store, and spent the rest of the time curled up on the couch watching it when we weren’t fucking on every surface in the apartment.

I didn’t answer my phone except to let Gram know that Asa was with me for the weekend and to let Farrah know that he hadn’t killed me and dumped my body somewhere—her words not mine.

The only downsides to our weekend were the discussions about my job. Asa didn’t want me working—though his reasons changed with each conversation until he’d compiled a list that was as long as my arm. I’d be out late on nights I had to close. School was more important. I’d have to work when he or Gram came to visit. I’d come into contact with tweekers and who knows what else. People robbed fast food places all the time. He’d even tried to say that I’d get sick more often because I’d be coming into contact with too many people—which made me comment that maybe I shouldn’t be going to school, either—that shut him up for about ten minutes.

I worked my first shift on Monday night after school while he sat at a table in the front of the restaurant, glaring at anyone and everyone. It was funny, and a little embarrassing, but having him there also settled my first day nerves so much that I dreaded when he wouldn’t be there anymore. I also began to understand his argument about working while he was visiting. I resented the time I had to spend away from him at school and work when I had so little time with him to begin with.

Our disagreement never came to a resolution before it was time for him to leave, but we were both unwilling to make it a huge deal. The fight that had goaded him to visit had given both of us perspective, and neither one of us wanted to end the weekend on bad terms. We didn’t know when he’d be able to visit again—and having a tantrum wasn’t going to get the same reaction the next time. He couldn’t just drop everything to deal with me, and it wasn’t fair of me to expect it.

On Tuesday morning, we stood outside while he stuffed a few things into his saddle bags. The scene seemed eerily familiar. It made my stomach turn as I remembered how he’d acted after he left last time. My arms were wrapped around my waist, and I was trying not to cry, but my throat had a huge lump in it and I could feel my nose tingling with repressed tears.

“Hey, Sugar,” he called gently, pulling me against him with a hand at the back of my neck. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, yeah?”

“Okay,” I answered, tucking my face into his chest. “You’ll call, right?”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll call.” He pulled my face away from him and kissed my forehead, then reminded me, “You call, too. None of that bullshit like before.”

I snorted, and then started giggling as his brows rose in surprise.

“Did you just snort?” he asked me with a grin, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off the ground. “Like a little piglet?”

“I’ll call!” I screeched as he swung me around, his beard tickling my neck as he pressed his face in.

When he finally put me down, we were smiling, but it didn’t last long before both our faces fell. I wasn’t sure how I looked, but his jaw was tense and his eyes stony as he reached over to grab his helmet.

“Call me tonight and let me know you got there, okay?” I asked softly.