Page 152 of Hot Shot

My heart sinks when I realize I’m home alone all day. No job. No Cricket. No Wilder.

Just me and the empty house for the next twenty-four hours.

Pouting, I pull the covers over my head and curl up in a ball around Wilder’s pillow. Everything smells like him—greedily, I inhale, my eyes closing and pout softening. Maybe I can just stay here. Here is nice.

The sound my stomach makes roughly translates to,Nah, bitch.

Sighing, I flip off the covers and drag myself out of bed. Phone in hand, I wander around, pulling on pants, peeing, making coffee, texting Jessa all the while.

Cass: Hi ily wyd

Jessa: OMG hi! Thank God you found Cricket quickly. I’m so glad she’s alright. Are you okay?

Jessa: Wait, why are you texting me on a Tuesday at eleven?

I sigh, the coffee pot gurgling as I launch into the update—all she knew was that Cricket ran away and that we found her. So I catch her up about getting fired, Trent, Paul, the whole gunpoint situation. At first, she was reacting and responding to every message, but for a few minutes, she’s been quiet.

Cass: Is it that bad? You don’t even know what to say, do you?

Jessa: omw

My heart flutters in bestie knowing she’s on her way, and I pour my coffee, setting out a cup for her in case Remy has convinced her to start drinking what she fondly callshot sludge. Then I dig out the tea kettle I know she’ll really want.

I throw all my energy into thinking about her instead of Cricket’s backpack by the door or her sneakers behind the couch. I nearly eat shit and burst into tears when I find her stuffed ladybug, sick that she doesn’t have it, wondering how she ever left without it. But somehow, I manage to put it away with only a couple of silent tears.

Thank God I’ll have a distraction today.

When the doorbell rings, I bound to the front door, grinning ear to ear as I whip it open, cheering, “My favorite bitch!”

Standing stiff and proud on the stoop is Avery’s mother.

My eyes pop open, the blood draining from my face so fast, I feel dizzy.

Nicole Franks is pristinely beautiful, her hair in that perfect, golden ponytail. Cool blue eyes look down her nose at me.

I blink at her like an idiot and stammer, “Uh, I’m sorry, I thought you were my friend. I mean, not that you aren’t my friend. I mean I thought you were someone else.”

When a smile flickers across her face, I’m confused. “Clearly. May I come in?”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out until I clear my throat. “Um, yes. Yes, of course.” I move out of the way to let her in, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the wall, eyes widening at the sight. Because I am asight,just a pile of tangled red hair, braless in one of Wilder’s Dodgers tees. You can’t even see my shorts.

Nicole, on the other hand, is in a beautiful cobalt suit and red-bottomed heels. Pretty sure the bag hooked in her elbow is worth twice what I make in a year. I shut the door as she waits expectantly for me to direct her.

“C-can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

I head for the kitchen, trying not to let her see me frown as I pour her coffee into the cup I’d set aside for Jessa. “Ah, so…why are you here? Also, how do you know where I live? And lastly, milk and sugar?”

“Both please. My father-in-law has a directory. And…well, I’m here to apologize.”

I drop the carton in my hand, and when it hits the counter, milk shoots out the top. “Jesus,” I hiss, scrambling for a towelto blot at it awkwardly. “I’m sorry,” I say as I finish making her coffee and hand it to her. “I…why?”

She takes the mug, which I just realized says UNT really big on one side. The handle is the C. Not sure how I stay in solid form rather than disintegrating into the floor where I can die in peace.

After taking a sip with the wordcuntdirectly under her face, she finally resolves to speak.

“I owe you an apology. More than that, frankly, after all the trouble we’ve caused.”