“Elementary education is sort of generalized, but if I had to pick a focus, I think I’d want to be a history teacher,” I decide after taking another big bite of the chicken. It’s delicious, cooked perfectly, and the pasta is al dente. Sometimes, I don’t like pasta from takeout restaurants since it can be overcooked and watery, but this is delicious. I’m glad I came down now.
“History is just, like, memorizing stuff. Dates and whatnot.”
“It can be,” I agree, nodding to Nix. “But I like being able to piece events together. Like this war happened because of this and that from a hundred years earlier. When you look at it that way, it’s actually really fascinating. Getting a feel of the big picture. I’m sure kings were out there making decisions they couldn’t imagine would lead their country to war in a hundred years, you know?”
“What did they care? They’d be dead by then, anyway.” Nix always has a way of cutting to the heart of something.
“That’s true.” Just like how in a hundred years, nobody is going to care that I’ve been repeatedly hurt and humiliated. My food doesn’t taste so great all of a sudden, but I know that’s just my thoughts coloring my feelings. I need to stop thinking that way. I wish I could enjoy simple things like this without always being afraid.
“So what did you guys do today?” If they are in a friendly mood, I might be able to squeeze some useful information out to use against them later. “You said you had things to get done.”
“Oh, you know. Errands, stuff like that. We went to the gym.” The way Nix stresses that last word tells me he’s still bitter over me refusing the job.
“Am I really going to have to start working there again once our parents are back?”
“We were only trying to do you a favor,” Colt insists.
“And that’s really nice, but I felt like I was getting paid to do nothing. I want to feel like I’m actually earning my money.”
“Do you ever get tired of trying to do the right thing all the time?” Nix grumbles. I’m actually glad he did it, even if Colt shoots him a dirty look. I need to remember who I’m dealing with here. They might want to call a temporary truce, but that doesn’t change anything in the long term.
“No, I actually don’t. Maybe you should try to do the right thing sometimes.”
“Meh.” Nix shrugs. “Maybe you should try to be bad.”
Ignoring his comment, I turn my head back to Colt.
Plus,” I continue, “it’s good experience for me to work with kids. I can learn how to identify what their needs are. Not everybody learns the same way. It’s probably much better practice, figuring that out now than waiting until I’m in front of a classroom of twenty or thirty kids.”
“Like getting thrown in the deep end,” Colt muses, nodding slowly. “That doesn’t help the kids who really need it.”
“That’s right. That’s exactly it.” I’m almost pitifully relieved that he agrees with me, that he gets it. This food is delicious, but what I really need to sustain me is being understood, being seen. That’s what I’m starving for. Colt is probably playing on that, knowing the kind of predator he is. He finds a weakness and preys on it.
“It’s been a long time since I had something that good,” I admit, desperate to change the subject.
“That doesn’t surprise me. No offense, but your mom isn’t the best cook. I mean, she tries.” Nix grimaces, and the three of us chuckle together.
“We really didn’t have much to work with for a long time,” I remind them, even though he’s absolutely right. But I do feel like somebody should defend her, at least in front of them. If I was talking to a friend, my response might be different. “And she only wanted to impress you guys, I’m sure. She went a little overboard.”
“She didn’t have to waste her energy.” I can’t tell if that means it wouldn’t have mattered either way because she was never going to impress them or that she didn’t need to try so hard because they like her. I’m going to go with the first one since I find it hard to believe these two could like anybody. I doubt anyone could ever live up to their expectations.
“I hope you didn’t fill up too much for dessert because we got cannoli. Their cannoli is excellent.” Nix gets up and goes to the refrigerator, where a small box sits. He takes it out and opens it, leaving it in front of me. They really do look good.
“What the hell? You only live once, right?” I take one and sink my teeth into the sweet cream and crispy shell. “Oh, yeah. This is great.” I set it aside after a few more bites, figuring I can eat it later while I’m reading. Though, right now, I feel kind of tired. It must be all the stress I’ve been under. Maybe I’ll call it early tonight and try to get some sleep. I’m sure all the pasta I just inhaled isn’t helping.
When the doorbell rings, my head swings back and forth between them. “Are you expecting anybody?” I ask, already halfway off the stool.
“Oh, yeah. We invited some people over.”
My feet hit the floor—soon followed by my knees. I grab for the counter to try to hold myself up, but my legs are like jelly. “What the hell?” I whisper, looking down at my useless legs. They seem too far away for some reason. And why is the room spinning?
Colt walks past me without so much as a glance, and before long, I hear a lot of voices overlapping. Excited voices, laughter.
Someone crouches in front of me. My head falls back when I try to look up at them, and through my blurry vision, I see Nix grinning. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” he asks, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking gullible. Like we give a shit about what you’re doing in school. Please.”
I can barely keep my eyes open. “I don’t understand…”
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. But don’t worry. You’ll be out cold during our party, so we won’t disturb you.” He laughs when I try and fail to speak. “You were right about one thing, though. You made a pig of yourself. I didn’t think you’d eat the whole container, or I wouldn’t have put so much in your food.”