Page 54 of The Sidekick

“Interesting,” he gives me a hard stare that I don’t understand.

“I hope your story is more smooth sailing to the happy ending,” my lips turn up into a grin. “I like the unrequited love thing, but I’m sure if you communicate, things will work out in your favor. Just don’t give in when they do the stupid push-you-away stuff.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, come on,” I giggle at his flat tone as I think about it. “You know they have red flags stapled all over them. Definitely emotionally unavailable.”

“How does a supposedly average sidekick turn into a main character?” He continues to stare at me grimly without stopping.

He’s really into it now, and I kind of appreciate it. South is the only other person who didn’t treat me like a crazy person when I talked about this. Then again, South and Dr. Robinson are the only two people I’ve spoken to about it.

“Two ways,” I hold one finger up and then the next without taking my eyes off the road. “One, have something really traumatic happen. I hate this one because everybody gets hurt before everything is said and done. Or two, just force yourself into the role by being really pushy and stubborn. You should go route two. Please. I know it’s a lot more work, but it’ll pay off in the end.”

“What happens if the main character runs away from her responsibilities? Like, really hides away and says screw that, not worth it?”

Wow, he’s exploring a lot of options. I didn’t even think of that one. I guess because Andi was never a runner.

“I’d like to think that wouldn’t happen,” I try to think it through. “But I guess it does. Sometimes, it’s about getting distance from a problem so they can solve it or trying to work on a new superpower. Physical training, maybe? Or just moping and feeling sorry for themselves. A main can run and hide, but it will eventually come to a head. Hopefully, a trusted friend or a sidekick would come in and give them advice. Or fate would intervene, and that’s never pretty.”

“Uh-huh.” Why is his tone sarcastic? He’s not taking this seriously anymore.

I shrug and pull into my parking spot. Once the car is turned off, I look at him in concern. “Shade, I don’t think you have to worry about all of that. I can’t really see you running from a problem.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” he assures me with a frown. “What if the main character ignores all the signs to go home and get her shit together? Can a not-so-trusted friend or sidekick be blunt? Do they have to lie and keep it going until they finally wake up?”

I climb the steps as I think about this new set of in-depth questions. Was I ever blunt with Andi? I lied to her once about wanting to date Alec so she would realize he was perfect for her. Blech, no thanks. He’s totally not my type. She fell for it, though.

I did demand that she let the bodyguards stay for her safety even though she didn’t want them. I’m all about having the numbers to fight back.

There was that time with Damien when I flat-out told her to just have sex with him and get over it.

“I think, as a sidekick, you can do whatever is necessary to help out a main character. Little lies and wake-up calls are normal.” I unlock the apartment and motion him inside before I close and lock the door.

“Awesome,” he claps his hands together with a grin. “Start packing.”

I scoff and give him a bewildered look, “Why?”

“Because you are a main character, and I’m telling you to pack your shit and come home with me.”

I blink at him in surprise, frozen in place as thoughts swish through my head too fast for me to catch.

“It’s ok. As your sidekick, I’ll pack for you,” he gives me a smug smirk and walks into my bedroom.

“What?” I ask faintly.

“By the way, I’m not broke. I lied so you’d let me stay.”

“You fiend. I even bought you lunch,” I gasp out in shock. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“You had a tragic series of events that altered how you view life. You had a redemption arc going for Andi that you walked out on, by the way. One or both of the idiots you have a crush on broke your heart. You took a sabbatical to try and find clarity. I found you to bring you home.” He walks out with an armful of thrift clothes I bought for work and drops them on the couch.

“But I don’t have a weird name,” I protest weakly.

“There’s more rules?” He shakes his head as he goes back into my bedroom. “Where’s your luggage?”

“I only have a duffel.” I stand there stupefied as his words make their way around my head like a dog chasing its tail.

“I don’t care if this is a rom-com, suspense, tear-jerker, or a coming-of-age story, but we’re out of here,” his voice calls to me. “I’m not sleeping next to roaches all night again.”

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