Page 4 of Lying Hearts

I stare, taking in his answer. Holy shit. It’s on! I’ve got the King Of Pussy to lead the way! A new life full of tits, ass, and zero commitment! I grab his newspaper with a big laugh. “We are going to kill it!” I crinkle it up in an extremely tight little wad and throw it at the ceiling.

Mark grins and slouches against the backrest. “I feel sorry for them already. You should move in with me, too.”

I didn’t see that coming. I lean back in my chair, cock my head to the side. “What about Greg?” Greg’s been Mark’s roommate all through college, the yin to Mark’s yang. Greg is quiet, introverted, serious. Not at all a ladies man, but Mark brought pretty women home and Greg was so happy about it, he never griped about the late hours or the sexual noises coming through the walls at all hours. “It seemed like the perfect scenario. Why give that up?”

“Greg’s moving in with Diana. Bought her a ring and everything.” Mark shakes his head. Marriage, the noose none of us want to fall into.

“Diana Cross? How’d they hook up?” Mark points a thumb at his chest. “Ah. Wow. Diana and Greg. I can’t really see it; Diana’s hot. Hey, wait… didn’t you hook up with her?”

“Oh yeah! Lots of times. But she wanted something I couldn’t give her.”

I smirk and scratch an itch on my chest. “Monogamy.”

“You got it. So, you want his room?”

It takes me a second to answer because moving in with Mark means leaving the place Sara and I got together. She hasn’t been in there for a year, except when she came back to visit, but it’s always been ours in my mind. I’m taken aback by the fear of leaving all of it behind, but the fear is definitely there. “Let me think about it.”

I can see Mark understands why I’m hesitating. He picks up his coffee cup and goes to chuck it in the trash. “I can always offer it to Tommy.”

The instant I picture Tommy taking my place, I know I’m on the edge of being shut out. Tommy already has been closer to Mark than me. Plus he’s an asshole. I don’t want him blocking my new life. I pick up my coffee cup that’s been emptied out already, and pretend to drink the last sip just so that I come off appearing nonchalant. “Fuck that. I’ll take it.”

Mark sees more than I think. He nods. “Good.” He picks up the rest of the paper – the part I didn’t send to the ceiling – and hands it off. “You want this?”

A woman in her early thirties with a corporate vibe and a permanent frown line, smiles at him. She gratefully takes it. “Sure. Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles. He holds her look just long enough to give her hope. “Have a good day. I like your blouse. Matches those pretty eyes of yours.”

Really pleased, she smiles and touches it. “Thank you.”

He walks back to me like he didn’t just make her day. He does this stuff and always acts like it’s nothing.

I stand and we head for the door. “Why do you do that when I know you’re not going hook up with her?”

“Who says I wouldn’t?” I raise an eyebrow and he laughs. “Nothing wrong with brightening up someone’s day.

I make a mental note of this. “When’s Greg moving out? Or is he already gone?”

“Oh, he’s gone alright.” He means metaphorically, and walks out the door with me following him out onto the sidewalk. “He’s moving out today. What is it – Saturday? You could move in tomorrow if you want. Or whenever. He doesn’t have a whole hell of a lot to remove.”

“Wait a minute. He’s moving out today?”

“Yeah?” Mark side eyeballs me like what’s the big deal?

A couple of hippy granola-eaters pass by, taking up massive amounts of sidewalk. I move out of their way, holding my breath to avoid the Patchouli oil. As soon as I can breathe again, I ask, “How were you going to cover his half of the rent until you found someone?”

Mark shrugs, the sunlight catching in his eyes and making them look pretty cool. I idolize the guy. Sue me. I’ll never tell Mark I look up to him. That would take the kind of conversation we guys don’t have. Women compliment each other all day long – but we don’t. Because then we’d be girls.

He hits me on the shoulder, a knowing look in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to. You were. Come over whenever you’re ready.”

Totally sideswiped, I watch him walk off, a slow smile spreading on my lips. “You’re so fucking smart, aren’t you, Mark?” I call after him.

He raises a hand up and yells back without turning around, “You know I am!”

“Fucking guy,” I mutter to myself, feeling good, like I’m looked after, like I’ve got back up. I don’t have to do this whole getting over my ex and starting a new life thing on my own.

Back at my place, I open the door and look around with new eyes. Evidence of Sara is everywhere. She’s off with that fuckhead who stole her, and here I am with all of her things mixed in with mine like I’m some dweeb who doesn’t matter. Most of this stuff belongs to both of us and I don’t know what to do with it. Sitting on our couch, I pick up one of her stupid flower pillows, remembering the day we began our downhill trek.

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