Page 93 of Crazy for this Girl

Khloe tsks but hides her smirk not-so-subtly behind her hand. “Time to get off the free dating app, Laynee, and either pay for one with people that are serious or drop it altogether. Each one gets worse than the one before.”

“The guy who brought his teddy bear with him to lunch seemed pretty faithful.”

“Nah, I thought the guy who compared you to his ex with every action you did or didn’t do was the best.”

I laugh because he was fun. I always wanted to know how loud I chewed and that I didn’t position my fork in my hand correctly.

Didn’t know there were different ways to do it.

My phone buzzes along the tabletop next to my plate and I lean over to look at it, when my heart stops in its rhythm.

It always does when he comes by randomly and decides I’m worth his time.

As if we meant nothing and I didn’t imagine it all.

UNKNOWN: I’ve lost count on how many text messages I’ve sent that you haven’t replied to. You’re either that busy or you’re ignoring me. The latter is bullshit, Laynee. Talk to me.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

I hate how she knows. That it’s so easy to read on my face.

I always wondered what expression it was that tipped her off. Was it a look of pure sadness? Or how desperately I want to know what happened that caused Cal to drop me so quickly without looking back.

He never stopped sending arbitrary messages to me, even though I told him he had the wrong phone number several times. They stopped for a few more months before they started back up again before things got weird.

It was the tone in his words. The beyond desperate need for me to speak to him. How he told me he wasn’t doing so good, then when I would ask him where he was, Cal was still vague but told me he was either in bed or on his couch.

We’d talk, but it never lasted long. My message was always the last one that got sent, and I could sense that something was off. I’m not sure if regret was eating him alive or the fact that I didn’t stay around waiting for him.

Then up until about two years ago, I stopped altogether. Cal ruined every relationship I ever had. Every fantasy that I dreamt of him being at my side. I never could shake him; I always wanted a way for him to be there, and my phone was the only way.

Except the torture was soon unbearable to the point where I couldn’t sleep, eat, or get out of bed. My anxiety reached a new high, and I started seeing a therapist for a few weeks. Her suggestion was to let him go. She taught me a breathing exercise and told me to begin filling my time with people that wanted to be with me.

She also told me to change my number.

I did everything, but that.

“Yeah,” I reply through the drop of my stomach. “He was just checking in.”

“He’s always just checking in. If he that shall not be named can’t give you an answer on why he ghosted you, then you need to tell him off. Ghost him back.”

“Dude, I have been. He won’t let it go.”

“Maybe he needs money.” My nose wrinkles because Cal is too prideful, he’d never ask me for it. “Or maybe he got pregnant with your baby.”

“I hate you as a lunch date,” I say flatly, pulling my credit card out of my wallet and placing it on top of the bill. “This just turned into our goodbye meal.”

Khloe’s mouth curves into one of her breath-taking grins. How she’s always single and no man wants to tie her down is behind me. Maybe it’s her brutal honesty that turns them off, or maybe she is the firecracker in bed that she claims to be and no man can handle her.

If that’s the case, I might need to change teams.

I haven’t had good sex in over four months.

“Wanna head to the Watering Hole on Friday? It’s 2000’s hip hot night for us millennials.”

I rub at my forehead. “Fuck me, we have a night now because we’re that old?”

“We are that old and we’re gonna shake it like a saltshaker because we can. And because we need dick.”

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