Page 90 of Crazy for this Girl

LAYNEE: I do. I don’t want to keep on doing this. I’m seriously so over it. With my luck, you’re with another girl and you’re just not telling me.

CAL: There is no other girl.

CAL: I’d never do that to you.

LAYNEE: Maybe not. But you did enough. Take care of yourself, Cal.

CAL: Laynee, don’t do this.

I mindlessly drop my phone with a thud on the wooden bar top and clutch the stem of my martini glass, swallowing the drink in one solid swoop.

It does nothing to ease the ache in my chest or the decision I just made.

It does nothing to bring him back or effortlessly take away memories.

They’re burned to my brain, and he just won’t let me go. He used to be my best friend, and now he’s become an enemy to my mental health.

CAL: I’m sorry, Laynee. I didn’t want it to be this way. Please believe me.

CAL: I need you. Don’t abandon me here. You are literally the only thing I have that’s worth shit.

CAL: Laynee, please. I know you’re super pissed at me, but I promise I’ll be back. You can start writing down the shit you’re going to torture me with.

CAL: Laynee.

CAL: Fuck. I love you.

A YEAR AND A HALF LATER…

UNKNOWN: I gave you over a year to become un-pissed at me. Please tell me you forgive me by now.

“Laynee, where did you come up with all this money?” I glance up from my screen and look at my newly graduated brother, looking hella grown up with a whole life in front of him.

He’s optimistic and excited, two things I remember being with the man on my phone that promised to be at my side forever.

I shrug, shoving the random message away that has my heart slamming violently into my chest. It’s never going to go away. It’s a condition I have to deal with apparently, that unless I change my phone number, he’ll always be and remain with me.

“I saved up,” I quip casually. “A lot of shifts and part time jobs will do that to ya.”

Jonah immediately frowns. His shady blonde hair freshly-cut, those vibrant blue eyes full of possibilities. “I can’t take this.” He closes the white envelope I gave him and stares at it. “Dad has everything handled for college. I appreciate it, though.”

No, he doesn’t.

I overheard him last year talk about how he’s not sure how he’s going to swing law school for Jonah, so I took my savings and kept banking on it for the past sixteen months.

“That’s for law school,” I tell him. “Dad’s got community college in the bag.”

I think.

I’m not sure.

I can figure all that out later. I still don’t have an idea of what I want to do, so going to school and paying for classes I may never need is pointless. When I find something I want to do, then maybe I’ll go back to school.

“Laynee, this is over six grand.”

Trust me, kid, I know.

“I know how to count,” I allege with a heave of my lips. “Just thank me when you become a lawyer and name your office after me.”

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