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Hunter
“Hunter: Get your fat ass over to the grocery store. We’re running out of milk,” I read the note my brother left me on the refrigerator aloud.
That’s how we communicated now, via message. Not text message like normal people. No, we used scraps of paper.
It had been three days since the fight. He accused me of being jealous that Chelsea wanted him and not me, of trying to kill Willa’s mom, and a host of other things that were complete fabrications said in anger.
I loved my brother, but he was the hothead of the family. The one who took ages to calm down. My mom always made me apologize to him—even if he was the one who started the fight—because she knew my brother rarely said he was sorry.
I resented him for that growing up, and for my mom always making me do his dirty work. But now that I was older and my parents weren’t with us, I realized why she did it. No other person, no argument, was worth losing family over.
Him calling me an asshole wasn’t worth it.
Tucker lying about where I was when Willa’s mom nearly got hit by a car wasn’t worth it.
Losing a brother over Chelsea really wasn’t worth it.
I crumpled up the paper and threw it into the trash.
Reaching into the jar on the counter, I discovered all the cookies were gone. Willa’s mom had made amazing chocolate chip cookies. When Willa brought them over, I hoped the fight would end and we’d get back to normal. But Tucker wouldn’t let it go no matter how much I apologized.
Willa felt horrible and blamed herself. She took a picture of me holding a cookie and left. I had been trying to contact her ever since but my texts either go unanswered or if she did respond, it was with an emoji.
Emojis were heartless and kind of stupid. Words meant more. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me. I knew we hadn’t known each other long, but I didn’t want to be with anyone else. I couldn’t get enough of her smart-ass mouth or the way she challenged me.
Now she was gone, and it made me realize that I was falling for her. And that terrified and thrilled me all at once.
When Louisa died, I thought my heart had died, too. I figured I’d sleep with women here and there for a release but never be in a relationship again. But the past few weeks with Willa, even with it being on and off, made me happy. My heart hadn’t felt this full in years.
I lifted my phone and instead of texting her for the twentieth time, I called her.
The phone rang and thankfully, she answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, Willa. It’s Hunter.”
“Yes?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, I felt like I was fifteen again, asking a girl out on a date.
“So, how’s it been going?” I cringed.
Really, Hunter? How’s it been going? Of all the stupid things to say, that’s what you open with? I pounded the counter with the side of my fist.
I guess awkward speech was my latest talent. Never mind trying for my next Grammy, they needed to make an award for useless questions to ask the woman you were falling for. That I could totally win.
“Okay. My old boss wants to speak with me about the interview. So that’s good, I guess. Might get my old job back.”
“That’s wonderful. Glad I could help with that. Speaking about jobs, I talked to my agent yesterday. He’s still interested in us collaborating on a few songs. And I thought—”
“Look, Hunter, I’m in a band now.”
“What? When?”
And why did I suddenly have the desire to locate the band and tell them to fuck off? I swear, I was acting like a possessive dick. Maybe my brother was right . . . Maybe I was an asshole.
“You know that band I sang with on open mic night? They asked if I wanted to sing with them. I went to see them rehearse last week and we jammed. It worked out. I’m going to be their lead singer. We’re called Dislocated Tapioca.”
My mouth fell open for two reasons. Number one, that was the douchiest name for a band I had ever heard. Number two, Willa didn’t want to sing with me.
“But what about me? I get that you want to sing with other people but if you sang with me, you’d actually get paid. Maybe enough that you could quit being a reporter.”
I had been against singing with her at first but now that I knew she wasn’t using me, I couldn’t wait to get into the recording booth with her. I spent the last week writing songs and wanted to share them with her.
I heard her sigh and my heart trembled. Deep down, I knew what was coming. Why she’d been avoiding me for days. It all led to one thing.
“Look, Hunter, it was fun being with you . . . But you’re a star. Your life isn’t compatible with mine.”
“Compatible? What are we, robots?”
“You know what I mean.”
I shook my head but knew she couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You live the rock star life and I may act tough, but really, I’m afraid I might fall . . .”
I kept quiet, hoping she’d continue but nothing came.
“Fall for what?”
Me? If it had been a few months ago I wouldn’t care how she felt. I didn’t care about anything or anyone, including myself. But right now, I’d do anything, say anything, for a chance at something more with Willa.
“It doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is, I don’t think we should see each other anymore. You’ve got your lifestyle to maintain and I have a mother to support. We just don’t belong together, Hunter.”
“That’s the biggest bunch of horseshit—”
I was cut off with a click. Willa had ended the call.
My heart sunk to the floor, along with my body. I sat on the cool tile and stared at my phone.
“Great, you’re dead. Now I have to call the ambulance to take your body away. There’s another task to add to my list to do today.” My brother’s voice came from the other side of the counter.
I heard his wheelchair squeak as he turned the corner of the counter and stared down at me.
“I’m not dead.” Though I felt like it. “And what list of tasks? Doing dirt wheelies in the backyard? Wow, your life must be utterly rewarding.”
My brother smirked and it was the one thing that brought life back to my heart. At least we were speaking again. That was something.
“I run a tech company, you know. What do you think I do in my bedroom all day?”
“Jack off.”
He rolled his eyes. “I misspoke. Other than jack off, what do you think I do in my bedroom all day?”
I smiled wide, hoping to creep him out. “Write emo love poems to Santa Claus all day because he’s your kink.”
“Fuck off.” Tucker chuckled and held out his hand.
I grabbed it and stood. We hugged for as long as he’d let me.
“We good?”
He nodded. “Yeah. We good.”
Throwing the phone onto the counter I sighed.
“Willa still won’t talk to you?”
“Pretty much. How’d you know?”
He went over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer bottle. After getting the cap off and taking a swig, he said, “We may not have been speaking, but I can still hear. You sound like a teenage prom queen who just realized the prom king was gay and there’d been no back seat loving that night.”
“According to Willa, I have my rock star lifestyle to maintain, and she doesn’t want to be a part of it.” I stuck my hand in the cookie jar forgetting, again, that there wasn’t anything in there to eat. “I hate that you ate all the cookies, by the way. I really need them right now.”
“You should be thanking me. I prevented you from eating your feelings.”
“And you say I’m the asshole,” I mumbled.
“Look, bro, I’m sorry.”
Wait. Did I hear my brother right? I stood and stared at him. He was picking at the black and gold label on the bottle.
“Are you actually apologizing?”
He nodded.
I glanced around the kitchen, half expecting a camera crew to rush out, filming me as the joke unfolded. But it wasn’t a trick. My brother meant what he said.
“Look, I like Willa. I think she’s a good person and just what you need. This idea you had that you’ll never love again after Louisa was garbage. I knew it. Grandma knew it. But you were the only one who couldn’t see it. And when Willa drew that perfect likeness of your junk in chalk, I knew she was the one for you.”
I raised my brow. “Perfect likeness?”
“The woman’s got talent. And that’s another thing. She can sing. Better than you.”
I was about to argue but he was right. Willa was one of those rare people who had vocal cords that hit notes most singers could only dream of touching.
“She does. But she’s in a band now and wants nothing to do with me.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t scare her away.”
Tucker went back to peeling the label from his beer. “I think in a way . . . I kinda did scare her away.”
I peered at him for a moment. “What do you mean?” I said slowly.
“Chelsea tried to come see me the other day. Willa spoke with her.”
“You know about that? Yeah, she told me she ran into her. That’s who the pie came from.”
My brother nodded. “Chelsea texted me. I think she planted the idea in Willa’s head that you were the typical rock star man-whore. That you were only using her. You know how Chelsea likes to fuck with people . . .”
I rubbed my face, hating the woman even more since my brother ended things with her.
“Can’t that woman just go away? She’s like the black death. Anything she touches begins to rot from the inside out.”
“That’s why I’m sorry. I made a mistake with her. I was lonely and happy that a beautiful woman was actually interested in me.”
Walking over to my brother, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Of course, a beautiful woman would be interested in you. You’re cool, a bit badass, and nerdy when you need to be. What woman wouldn’t fall for that? You don’t need to scrape the bottom of the barrel with Chelsea, though.”
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry and if there’s anything I can do to help you get Willa back, I’m here.”
“Thanks, Tucker.”
My phone began to vibrate on the counter. When I picked it up, my face told my brother everything he needed to know.
“Is it Willa? Tell her I’ll move so you two can sex up every room if that’s what she wants.”
“What? Yes, it’s Willa but you don’t have to move. We’ll sex up the rooms whether you’re here or not.”
“I’m going to be sick.” He turned and left the room.
I swiped to answer and lifted the phone to my ear.
“Hello? Willa?”
Maybe she had changed her mind. I was hoping she was calling because she was right out front and needed to be let inside.
“No, this is Willa’s mother.”
My joy turned quickly into concern.
“What’s wrong? Is Willa okay?”
“Not really. Is this Hunter? The music man that my daughter’s been seeing?”
“Yes. I’m Hunter Six. It’s nice to finally speak with you, Mrs. Jones. Your cookies were delicious, by the way.”
“Thank you, but I didn’t call about them. I’m concerned about my daughter and need your help.”
