Page 45 of You've Got Hate Mail
“But you think I am.” She sips my coffee again, looks down at it, then looks at me. “Or I’m taking up too much space here and you want me to leave.”
Yes, I fucking want her to leave.
I like my space, and she might be in a separate apartment, but I can sense her.
Every. Single. Fucking. Minute.
It’s that vibe.
But I shake my head at her. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want or need.”
“I’d kick me out,” she whispers as she lowers herself onto the swing too, leaving a wide gap between us that makes me think she’s squishing herself against the other armrest.
“Would you? Or do you just think someone should since your parents would?”
She sucks in a heavy breath. "They wouldn’t?—”
“Wouldn’t they?”
She falls silent, staring at the coffee.
“Not judging,” I say. “You. Not judging you. Them—maybe.”
“You heard that.”
“Fluffy and I weren’t quiet up there. Thought you could hear us.”
“Stupid earbuds. I—sorry. Sorry. I should’ve stayed inside.”
Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
I hate that I have this gut feeling that I know exactly what she needs to hear.
And I hate that I have an innate sense of responsibility that tells me I need to say it.
Hate talking about my in-laws when the scars are still so fresh from what they did after Ava died.
Hate talking about people who judge me based on my job instead of my character when I thought my job said a lot about my character.
Hate sharing personal shit with people I don’t know well.
But this little community Mabel’s built—this community, thisfamilythat I’m allowed to be part of—this is what we do for each other.
We support. We share.
We help.
And Cricket needs to hear that she’s not alone.
“My in-laws wanted me to be a doctor,” I say. “Thought I was wasting my brain and talents by not going back to school to be something more.”
“I—know a little about what that feels like,” Cricket says to the coffee.
“They thought Ava married down since I don’t have a bachelor’s degree. And they thought she was wasting her own education, even though when she got internet-famous, she was making cash hand over fist with endorsements and partnerships and engagement fees.”
“I’d have to make ten times what my sisters make for my parents to see me as even half as successful as they are. And it—it never bothered me before—before now.”
“They want bragging rights, not kids.”
