Page 68 of Play the Part

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HUXLEY

DK is meowing at my feet as I boil water for my instant ramen. I made an effort tonight and boiled two eggs to go with it. DK lets out another long whine as if he’s never been fed in his entire life before. He’s gotten so much bigger in the past month.

“Dude, Ijustfed you,” I tell him. “I can still see food in your bowl.”

He looks up at me with big watery eyes and meows again, throwing himself on his back to show me his stomach. We stare each other down for a few seconds, but I finally crack. I slowly shake my head and open the pantry, pulling out his treats.

“You’re so spoiled,” I say as I drop a few kibbles on the floor.

DK lunges for them and barely chews before swallowing them whole.

Leaving him to it, I pad to the living room, carefully holding my steaming bowl of ramen with the tips of my fingers. DK follows me from the kitchen but beelines right in front of me, almost making me trip. I sidestep, the noodles dangerously sloshing around.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re an absolute menace,” I curse under my breath but make it to the couch all in one piece.

Unpausing the show I’m watching on TV, I absentmindedly check my phone for any notifications.

My stomach sinks.

Missed call: Connie

The timestamp says I just missed her phone call. The feeling of seeing her name flash on my screen is confusing; I’m not sure if it’s aversion or excitement. Maybe both.

I don’t have time to dwell more on how this makes me feel before my phone lights up with three back-to-back notifications.

It’s Connie again—texting me this time.

Placing my bowl of ramen on the coffee table, my knee starts to bounce nervously as I bite at the skin on my thumb. What would she even have to say after almost two weeks of silence? To be fair, I’m the one who called it off, but she didn’t even protest. It’s as if my sudden absence in her daily life was a non-issue. I’m such a fucking loser to lose sleep over this girl when I’m obviously nothing to her.

Feeling myself get riled up all over again, I drag my hand over my face as I deliberate if I should even read her texts. The safest option is to ignore her. It’s been working pretty well for me until now. I stare at my phone some more, my ramen getting cold as I continue to chew on my thumb, my knee bouncing, bouncing, and bouncing.

Finally, I sigh, pick up my phone and tap on her name.

Can we talk?

I hate that you’re ignoring me.

Can you pick up please?

Her messages irk me; she’s assuming I’m not busy, and I’m just sitting here screening her calls. She’s not wrong but it pisses me off nonetheless. My phone vibrates with another incoming call.

It’s her.

I groan out loud and hesitate. Finally, I cave.

“Yeah?”

“Hux, uh … hi.” She sounds surprised.

As if she didn’t expect me to pick up.

“What is it?” My voice is curt, and she falls silent for a few seconds.

“Look, I — I’m sorry, okay?”

My heart unexpectedly squeezes at her rushed apology.

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