Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Parker

Someone banged on my bedroom door in the unspeakable hours of the morning, and I buried my head under a pillow. “Parker, wake up!” Cass’s voice called, much too happy for this early in the morning. “Merry Christmas!”

“I’m dead. Come back later.”

“No, you’re not dead. Dead people don’t talk.”

I dragged a second pillow over my head too. “Ever heard of zombies?”

“Zombies can celebrate Christmas too. Come on! I brought croissants and peppermint bark!”

I groaned, flinging my pillows onto my messy floor, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Cass, I don’t do the ungodly morning hours.”

“It’s eight o’clock, Parker.”

“Like I said. I don’t do the ungodly morning hours.”

She laughed. “Just come on. I made coffee. And I have a surprise for you.”

“That’s ominous,” I murmured to myself, picking up my glasses from the bedside table. I poked myself in the face trying to get them on, but I slipped them on and fell out of bed, grabbing my lesbian flag robe from my coat rack and pulling it on, tying it tight around my waist. The cold nipped at my ears and nose, and it smelled like morning air, icy and brisk.

Fumbling out of the door rewarded me with the smell of croissants and coffee, and I slouched into the living room, strung up with lights and a Christmas tree standing on one side. Cass hadn’t been very talkative last night, but I could tell when a girl needed some quiet and repetitive activity to keep her mind busy, and I’d been quick to suggest putting up the decorations I’d bought. We’d made small talk at the very most while we loaded the place with holiday cheer, and I had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing ever. It was nice having a Christmas celebration with someone other than my family and my dad’s attempts at conversation.

Cass looked much too put-together, wearing makeup and a fitted red dress, her hair up in an ornate bun tied with a ribbon, and I wished she didn’t look so good. Especially when Pinky clearly already had a claim on her.

She bent over the oven, pulling out a tray of picture-perfect bakery croissants and dropping it on top of the stove, turning back to me with a triumphant smile on her face. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said. “Merry Christmas. That’s such a cute robe. Pink and orange are so trendy together.”

“It’s the lesbian flag colors, Unicorn.”

She blinked. “There’s a flag for lesbians?”

“Oh, you really are new.” I shook my head, looking at the croissants. “Those are store-bought, aren’t they? They’re much too pretty for you to have made them.”

“Rude,” she laughed, a hand to her chest. “And technically, no, they’re not store-bought. They’re the leftover croissants from Hummingbird that would have gotten tossed for the three days it’s closed.”

“Oh, so they’re trash.”

She rolled her eyes. “You are so fussy. Just eat one. I made coffee, but I don’t know if it’s any good…”

I pulled a plate down from the cabinet and slid a chocolate croissant onto it, dropping myself into a seat at the kitchen table. “I thought your whole job was making coffee.”

“Well, I mean, it’s a side job. But more importantly, uh…” She scratched at her arm. “You literally sell coffee equipment for a living, and all you have in your own home is a Mr. Coffee?”

I laughed. “Yeah. It always pissed off Athena once she found out I sold coffee equipment. I’ll take it with half-and-half.”

“Once she found out?” She poured coffee from the pot, setting my STRAIGHTS GO TO HELL mug down in front of me and grabbing the cream from the fridge. The room was so… morning, soft orange light coming in through the window, snow covering the ground outside and making everything even quieter.

It was jarring, spending Christmas somewhere I didn’t feel pressure from every angle to be something else, to do things for other people. I’d always been expected to show up with mountains of gifts. Spending it with Cass was a blessing, even with the unicorn energies.

“Yeah. I usually keep it a secret that I sell coffee stuff.”

“Uh… dare I ask why?” She set the cream down in front of me, and I tossed a generous pour into my cup.

“Because her reactions were hilarious. She looked like she wanted to strangle me when she finally found out.” I sipped the coffee, staring out the window, looking at how quiet Amity Street was right now. I’d never actually spent a Christmas here, and it was beautiful.

It was annoying, actually feeling something nice about the Instagram influencer who had invaded my home. But this was already the most comfortable Christmas I’d ever had.

“I never drink coffee at home,” I said, once I put the mug back down. “That’s why I don’t have anything good here. There’s five different coffee shops within walking distance where I can get a free drink.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” she said, dropping down at the table across from me. “Anyway, your surprise. I got you a present, but I have to warn you, I think it’s sort of regifting.”

Ugh, presents. Here I’d thought we were done with those. It made my stomach turn. Was I supposed to get her something? If it was regifted, was I safe from the obligation of getting her something back?

“I am thrilled.” I took a bite of the croissant, savoring the tartness of the sourdough Hummingbird used in their croissant recipe. It gave it a rich complexity that cut through the fattiness of all the butter, and I’d always been fond of it. I wasn’t going to tell Unicorn that, though. “Well, so long as I’m getting something, I’m not complaining. It’s not used to pieces, is it?”

“Oh, no. It’s completely unused. I got it from a brand that sends me product sometimes… they just up and sent it to me without warning saying I could endorse it if I wanted to, but either way, it was their gift to me. But it’s totally not my style.”

“Are you sure it’s going to fit me?” I said, watching as she leaned under the table and pulled out an impossibly well-wrapped box, shiny red paper with green ribbon and a big bow on top. A snowflake-shaped tag hanging off said from Cassie, for Parker with a little heart at the end, and frustratingly, her handwriting was as impeccable as her wrapping job. “You’re a bit, uh… tall.”

“I’m sure,” she laughed.

My heart hammered with an anxious feeling as I slipped the ribbon off and tore the paper, feeling like I was punching a hole through the original Mona Lisa, and found myself face-to-face with a felt box. I lifted the top, and the sight of the silver watch inside made my heart stop.

No matter how I looked at it, this was an Armada watch. I stared at it, not even daring touch it, before I looked up at Cass.

“Do you like it?” she said.

“Isn’t this thing, like, five thousand dollars?” My voice came out smaller than usual, and my usual was small.

She scratched her shoulder. “I’m not looking up how much a gift costs.”

I let my gaze fall back to the watch, and then up to Cass again. I felt horrendous. “You, uh… you know I didn’t get you anything, right?”

She beamed. “You got me this amazing apartment. This is my way of saying thank you.”

That did not count. That never counted. Christ. How much did I owe her for this?

I pulled up my phone, tapping frantically before I found a cross-reference. I’d been wrong. Seventy-two hundred. “Holy shit,” I said, feeling dizzy. “They didn’t give you a returns receipt, did they?”

She gave me puppy-dog eyes, and it made my stomach roil. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s not that I don’t like it, just… Christ, this is expensive.”

She pursed her lips. “It didn’t cost me a single cent, Parker. And I don’t think it cost the company that much, either, honestly. These things have ridiculous profit margins.”

Dammit. Maybe this was worse than my family. They only ever gave me cheap gifts, so at least it was easy to match the gift quota. With Cass, now I was behind, and I had no idea how to catch up.

“Right. Okay. Yeah. Thanks.”

She chewed her lip. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have given it to you if I’d known it would stress you out.”

Ugh. This was the worst. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, pushing my glasses up. “No, it’s really nice. I love it. I’m just not great at receiving gifts. I feel like I need to return the favor, and I can’t afford to buy you a seventy-two-hundred-dollar watch too.”

She made a face, waving me off. “Oh, lord, no. You don’t owe me a thing. I promise. You never do.”

I sighed, picking the watch up reverently. “Thanks. I really like it. I’ll wear it around and people will think I’m way more put-together than I am.”

She gave me an odd smile. “You don’t believe me when I say you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Nope, not really.” I waved her off. “It’s whatever. Sorry I’m crap at getting gifts. It’s just a lot.”

“Do you want to talk about—”

“I do not talk about things.”

She paused. “That seems unhealthy.”

“I know.” I turned the watch over in my hands, before I popped open the clasp and slipped it over my wrist. “I’ve never worn a watch before. I think I can vibe with it.”

“I thought it seemed really lesbian.”

I thought it over. “Maybe you know more about lesbians than I thought.”

“I’m sorry for giving you something expensive like that without checking.”

Dammit, I was an asshole. “No, it’s really nice. Thanks. But now I feel terrible I didn’t get you anything.”

“Like I said, you getting me this place is amazing.” She looked away. “And maybe it’s a reconciliation for the whole half-a-million followers thing?”

I narrowed my eyes, closing the watch box back. “Oh, I see how it is. This is just an expensive gift to shut me up. You’re a nefarious dealmaker, Unicorn.”

“Nefarious dealmaker, basic white girl, evil emperor, and happy rainbow unicorn girl,” she said. “There’s so many sides to me.”

“You’re a dangerous one,” I said. “I’ll have to keep a close eye on you.”

She grinned. “A close watch?”

“There are no puns allowed in this household.”

“Try and stop me,” she laughed, and she looked away again. “But yeah. Seriously. I’m really sorry about the whole Instagram thing.”

“Is that what was bumming you out last night?”

She looked away, fussing with the mixed-metals bracelets she was wearing. “Um… no. Some other stuff. But that’s not important.”

I leaned in. “You can tell me whatever’s on your mind.”

“I don’t want to bother you. I don’t think you want to hear my basic white girl complaints.”

“You’d be surprised. I love hearing people complain. Tat told me I’m like a shit fly.”

She frowned. “Parker, I think she was insulting you.”

“Eh… she’s right, though. Where there’s decay and grime and infestation, I’m drawn to it. I don’t do your whole… glossy thing,” I said, waving her off. “Putting on a pretty image. Looking perfect. It’s bullshit. Anyone can pretend to be perfect. How many people can actually own up to how messy and ugly they really are?”

She chewed her cheek, staring at me for the longest time, before she took a sip from her own mug. “This coffee is terrible,” she said.

“Get an espresso machine, then,” I said. “I happen to have some very reasonable rates.”

She smiled, but she shook it off. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing to strive for an image you want.”

“Eh.” Christmas morning probably wasn’t the time for ideological debates. “Point is, if you want to complain, I love to hear it.”

She sighed, sinking back in her chair. “So, uh… do you know Gary Founders?”

I closed my eyes. “I take it back. I hate this conversation topic.”

She laughed nervously. “I’m taking that as a yes, then.”

I opened my eyes again mostly just to scowl at her. “You already know the answer, or you wouldn’t be asking if I know him.”

She pursed her lips, nodding. “Yeah. I guess it was rhetorical. He approached me yesterday at Hummingbird with an offer to become his latest… brand sponsor, thing.”

My stomach dropped through the floor and landed in the soup pot of the little family restaurant downstairs from me. “If you start working with Gary Founders while you’re living with me, I will leave my used bath towels on the floor. Biological warfare is okay in these circumstances.”

She put her hands up. “I turned him down. He got really pissed off and asked why, and I said it was because I was with you instead.”

We were going on a Christmas rollercoaster, it seemed. I blinked fast. “You told him you’re with me? What does that even mean?”

She winced. “That… I was hoping for you to come out on top.”

I furrowed my brow. “I am no stranger to topping, but I would not top a man and definitely not Gary Founders.”

A look of horror crossed her face. “Oh, god. I don’t want to picture that.”

“Me neither. I don’t know why I said it.” I shook my head. “Well, I guess I’m obligated to let you know, now that you’ve cast your lot in with me, that I’m losing. Uh… badly. Hence why I was so desperate to get a roommate, in case I wouldn’t be able to make rent.”

“Ah.” She nodded, eyes wide. I hated the look of sympathy.

“So, I guess you’re screwed. Should have just told him you weren’t feeling it.” I looked out the window.

“Er… he doesn’t take a no very easily.”

I looked back, raising an eyebrow at her. “Have you worked with him before?”

“Yeah…” She cleared her throat. “He did a similar project in Canderson before. Brand sponsors in local stardom. Always thin white girls in their early twenties, mysteriously. I was twenty then, and, er…”

“You signed up with him.”

“Yeah. He was pushing a clothing brand, and he said I’d make a great star model.” She rubbed her wrist so hard it looked like she was trying to start a fire. “And… then this is kind of the hard part.”

“You killed someone?”

“Ugh, I wish.”

That was kind of hot when she said things like that. “What?”

She rubbed her forehead. “Look, I was really young and not very smart, okay?”

The pieces fell into place so hard I almost heard the click out loud. Gary with his young and hot sponsor girls just about grinding against him… I pursed my lips. “That ex who was literally the devil.”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“I take it back. You were right. Literally the devil.”

“I’m glad you see it my way,” she sighed, still rubbing her forehead, covering her eyes. I shrugged, looking back out the window.

“We all make bad decisions when we’re young. People like that, who are much older and know how to manipulate people and use power to their advantage, are the most dangerous. It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault.”

“Well, with a compelling argument like that.”

She laughed, but it fell off halfway through into a groan. “I can’t believe I dated someone eleven years older than me. I just liked it when he complimented me.”

“Like I said, it’s not your fault. If you were thirty-one and you went after a twenty-year-old girl, offering her money and prestige and a sense of importance until she agreed to bang you, would you blame her?”

“Well… no, but…”

“But it’s only the younger person’s fault when you’re the younger person.”

She sighed. “Look, it just is. The point is, he’s an awful guy and I could barely find a way to turn him down, because I know how he gets when he doesn’t get his way, so I kind of… threw you under the bus by saying it was because of you that I couldn’t do it.”

I waved her off. “Hardly the worst thing you’ve done. I was already under the bus, getting run over again and again. The worst thing you’ve done was move into my apartment without telling me you had half a million followers and you did a morning-miracle routine every morning.”

“It gets worse,” she sighed, burying her face in her hands. “His company, Morning Magic? It’s inspired by my morning-miracle routines.”

“Oh, god. It’s like the crossover from hell.” I rubbed my forehead.

“I’m really sorry about the whole thing. I really thought you knew.”

I put my hands up. “I don’t follow… influencers and all that. I had no idea who you were.”

“You told me that first day we met that you’d check out my Instagram. After I’d told you about it.”

That threw my thoughts miles out of line. I blinked fast. “You remember that?”

She looked away, pouting. “Yeah.”

Well, now I had to feel guilty again. “Uh… I was just saying that to humor you. I thought I’d never see you again and I really couldn’t have cared less.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

I was hoping she’d yell at me or something. That makes sense was worse. I shifted in my seat. “Well… okay. I guess I can see why you thought I knew.”

“I thought it was cool you didn’t treat me like I was some—some vapid high-school popular girl after that. Most people do.” She shrugged. “So I guess it makes sense you just didn’t look, and that’s why you didn’t treat me any differently.”

I folded my arms. “Don’t try to guilt-trip me.”

“You’re the one talking about me having a few followers like it’s going to ruin your life.”

“I’m sorry, did you say a few? You have the population of entire nations following you.”

“What?” She dropped her hands by her sides. “What countries only have half a million people?”

I pulled out my phone. A minute later, I said, “Malta. Your page is officially more populous than the entire nation of Malta. More than Barbados, Guam, and Micronesia combined.”

“Guam isn’t a country. It’s an American territory.”

I threw my hands up. “Oh, well, la-ti-da. So it’s an American territory you’re squeezing into our two-bedroom apartment with us, along with the entirety of Barbados and Micronesia.”

“They are not invited inside.”

“I hope not. They stay back and I do not engage with or interact…” I trailed off, my mind spinning in circles as I stared blankly at Cass. “Wait,” I said.

She blinked. “I’m waiting.”

“What did you tell Gary?”

“That…” She cocked her head. “That I’m with you?”

Being with her didn’t sound too bad. For a night or two, anyway. I didn’t do girlfriends. And if I did, Unicorn… well, she wouldn’t be my first choice. The feelings I had about her were entirely surface-deep.

“The other part,” I said.

“That… I hoped you’d top him.”

“Do not say it like that.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you mean it?”

“That I’m taking your side if it’s you against Gary?” She snorted. “Is this the cake-or-death skit? Of course I’m siding with you.”

I pursed my lips. “How much do you mean it?”

“You’re scaring me. What are you getting at?”

I broke out into a smile. “So… there’s a saying in my industry.”

“A saying in the espresso machine curation industry?”

I waved her off. “Okay, I just say it like that to make it sound more serious. It’s just an in-joke with me and Tat and some other friends.”

“Okay. What’s the saying?”

“The best cure for feeling crap is breaking shit.”

She frowned. “That’s a horrible saying. What kind of advice is that?”

“Hey. Don’t knock my saying.”

“Oh, so you came up with the saying.” She shrugged. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What it means is that when you feel bad, the best cure is action. Doing crap. Big, bold moves that break shit.”

“You’re still not getting to the point, and it scares me.”

I leaned across the table towards her. “Be my sponsor, instead.”

She stopped. “Uh… what?”

“With Express Coffee Logistics. If Gary wants to play that game, we’ll play that game. We’ll be the underdogs, defending our territory. You and me at Hummingbird, which your followers love. This mysterious roommate I’ve seen you mentioning vaguely in your posts and people are wondering who she is.”

She looked away. “I didn’t realize you were reading them…”

“He’s coming in trying to steal my café and my girl. Now it’s personal.”

She put a hand over her face, a flush creeping up her neck. “You don’t need to say it like that.”

It was a little too much fun to rile her up like that. “And we mobilize the entirety of three nations against him.”

“Two nations and one territory.”

“Ugh, you and that territory thing. Sure, that.”

“That would ruin me,” she said, dropping her arms by her sides and turning to me. “I can’t go against everyone else signing up with Gary. That’s going to create tension, and conflict, and the other girls are going to be furious.”

“What, like people won’t eat up the drama? Besides, it’s the best way to get Gary off your back. You know he’s going to keep asking otherwise.”

She stared at me for long enough that the fire burned out. I sank back in my seat, poking at my croissant.

“Eh… probably a shitty idea. I’m not going to pressure you into it. The last thing I want is to be another Gary, push and poke you into doing it just because it’ll benefit me.”

“No,” she said.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No, I mean—as in—no, I’ll do it.”

I blinked once at my croissant, looked up at Cass, and narrowed my eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, her lips drawn in a thin line. “You’re right. I can’t just keep my head in the sand. Gary is screwing with your industry and mine. And neither of us like him. I think it makes sense.”

I studied her. “No one’s ever said I’ve made sense before.”

She grinned. “Congratulations on your first time. I’m proud of you.”

“Sounds pretty close to what I’ll tell you the first time you bring a girl back here and fuck her senseless,” I said, just to watch her blush again, and sure enough, she nearly tipped her chair backwards, putting a hand over her face.

“Um… I don’t know that I’d be doing that.”

“Oh, so she’d be fucking you senseless.”

She shrugged, a little smile playing on her lips. “I mean, I’ve got to take notes and learn first.”

That was hotter than it should have been. She was supposed to be too flustered to take shots back. “Fucking a girl isn’t that hard,” I said. “You seem pretty smart. And I’ll bet you’re the type who’s watched lots of lesbian porn to help you figure it out.”

She cleared her throat. “Okay, maybe I’m just not as inclined to top.”

“All right. Then what I’ll tell you the first time you bring a girl back here and she fucks you senseless.”

“I might go to her place for my first time.”

“Then once you get back, because I know it’ll be written all over your face.” Talking about this was a little too much of a turn-on. My conversations with Thena had definitely not been this erotic. Of course, Thena hadn’t been all hot and half-naked strutting around in a towel with messy wet hair over her shoulders, too. “But you won’t tell your followers,” I said, and she shook her head, hard.

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” She took a long breath. “So… wait. What happens as a sponsor?”

“You know something, Unicorn? That’s a great question.”

She laughed, falling back in her seat. “You mean… you asked without even knowing what you were asking.”

“Yeah, pretty much.” I sipped my coffee. “But if the answer is yes, then we’ll figure it out. We should talk to Tat. She’ll be pumped about our new brand direction. Actually, she’ll want to strangle me for making decisions without talking to her about it, but same thing.”

She gave me a wry smile. “You two have an… interesting friendship.”

“Most of my friendships are me having a great time bothering someone else, and them wanting to strangle me. But you’ll get used to it. Welcome to Express Coffee Logistics.”

She shook her head, smiling strangely. “Is this a bad decision?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“But we’re still doing it?”

“Seems like it.”

She laughed, holding up her mug. “Merry Christmas.”

I tapped my mug against hers. “Merry Christmas, Unicorn Emperor.”