Rage A Love Story by Julie Anne Peters

Author:Julie Anne Peters
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Alfred A. Knopf
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

I have to grocery-shop. Damn. I haven’t deposited my check. The cash for my car insurance is still in my bag.

Except, it isn’t. I dump the bag and can’t find the envelope. I check all the usual places—pockets, drawers, divan cushions.

I had it, I know I did. Martin keeps a stash of cash in a cookie jar, which I only know about because one day these band geeks came to the door selling candy and Martin was making dumplings or something; his hands were covered with flour. He said, “Mojo, would you buy ten candy bars from these guys? There’s money in the loaded potato.”

That’s what he calls the cookie jar. Martin won’t mind. I’ll replace the money as soon as I get paid.

I leave Martin an IOU: “I unloaded 40 from the potato. Pay U back. J.”

Writing out a grocery list makes me think of Mom, and I don’t want to. I want—need—to be happy.

On my way home from Safeway I think about calling Reeve to make sure she’s coming. I mean, she never said yes. We didn’t set a definite time.

Stupid. What if I’m going to all this trouble and she doesn’t think I’m serious? She’ll have to learn that about me—I’m always serious about her.

As I’m slicing a mushroom from cap to stem, the way the book shows, the phone rings. It startles me and I cut my finger. “Hello?” I answer, sucking the blood.

“It’s me,” she says.

My pulse races. “What time are you coming?”

“Did I say I was?”

All the blood drains out of me.

“Kidding. I’m calling to ask what time you want me.”

I’m really bleeding. “Any time.” I stanch the bleeding with pressure from my thumb. “Come now if you want.”

There are voices in the background, yelling, a TV blasting. Reeve’s voice lowers. “Can Robbie come too?”

He wasn’t exactly in the plan.

“Never mind,” she says. “Forget it.”

“No, it’s okay.” I shouldn’t have hesitated. “It’s fine. Of course he can come.” Snuff the candles, fade out of Joyland.

“Are you positive?”

That I want her here? “Yeah. Positive.” I hope I sound enthusiastic. “I’ll need to make more food.”

“No shit. He eats like a pig.”

Great.

In a low, sultry hiss, Reeve goes, “Thankssss.”

I say, “Hurry.”

I run downstairs to unload another twenty from the potato.

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