Page 39 of Love's a Glitch
“It’s a thing! It’s called the loomster, and it’s lucky.” Now didn’t seem like a good time to admit I’d read the definition on a McDonald’s Happy Meal box. It was our senior year of college, and I’d bought the kid’s meal instead of the value meal because it came with Princess Cadance, a My Little Pony who was both pinkanda unicorn.
“Anyway,” Cat continued. “It’s, like, your biggest wish come true, and you let that perfectly fine specimen of a man walk away without a second thought.”
Wrong. It was more of a third thought, and still, he fell short.
“Our table,” Penny cried, causing us all to look toward the people gathering their belongings to leave. Stools screeched and wobbled as the three of us snatched our drinks and made a beeline for the tiny round table where we’d discussed everything—job interviews and our careers, breakups or family tragedies, and even the cuts, styles, and shades we should request at the hair salon.
Thanks to one salon trip gone wrong, Penny once ended up with bangs the size of Mount Rushmore and was now required to take backup.
As soon as our rightful table was back in our possession, Cat squared off in front of me. “No more distractions. Something’s up, and I want details. Spill it, Eloise Maria Kostopoulous.”
It’d been a long time since someone had three-named me. Until this very moment, I would’ve bet money even my friends forgot my last name wasn’t Kostas. Guess I sold them short.
The excited, bubbly sensation that hindered my secret-keeping abilities overtook me and loosened my tongue. “Okay, so remember how my phone resent all my messages?”
They both nodded, because how could anyone forget something like that?
“Well, among them was…” I’d never quite owned up to this, as they’d advised against it and had even taken away my phone a few times during that dark stretch when Dillon had stopped responding. Huh. Guess Ihadmanaged to keep a secret. “The night of the St. Paddy’s party, after way too many shots of whiskey, I went home and texted Dillon pictures of our good times, along with a message about missing him and how much I loved him and, well, a picture of me after puking.”
Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, the unison of my friends’ reactions as scary as it was impressive. Like, did they practice?
“Anyway, I was shocked to see that Dillon had texted me back.”
Both of their faces fell, panic and worry rising to take the place of the disappointment. Not surprising, as they’d never been Dillon’s biggest fans. Many a time I’d told them that I should’ve listened to their concerns, while still harboring the tiniest sliver of hope that one day he’d prove them wrong with his stellar excuse. But no more.
“Well, now I know how my friends would feel about me reconnecting with him.”
“He ghosted you,” Cat said, anger infusing her voice, and Penny placed her hand on Cat’s elbow as she worked to keep her own words even.
“We watched him treat you like a second thought, and then he dumped you the same way, Ellie. We’re just worried he’ll hurt you again, and then we’ll have to bury him out in the woods, and none of us have the right outfit for that.”
A laugh slipped out. “While I appreciate that—”
“People show you who they are through more than their words,” Penny said. “It takes action. Guys are the kings of saying they’ll change and then doing the exact same shitty thing over and over again, because they know you’re nice enough to overlook it.”
“This feels a bit personal.”
“Because it is.” Cat placed her hand over mine. “No offense, babe, but you’ve got trash taste in men. Nice guys are brushed aside for the littlest thing, like they blink too much or whatever. But then, when the jerks wave their red flags in your face, you choose to keep a blindfold on.”
I stuck out my lips in a half-pout and half-scowl, not sure whether to be more hurt or upset. A quick mental recap of my relationships didn’t conjure up a proper counterargument, and that only intensified the sting. “Andrew didn’t just blink, he kept his eyes closed for minutes at a time. And I…” Confessing I’d completely shot my chances with him during our last date would only lead to them thinking they’d proved their point.
“We’re just trying to protect you,” Cat said, who could rebut and redirect until I didn’t even remember what argument I’d been trying to win. In the end, she’d be as assured she was correct, and I’d give in. Every so often it left me frustrated and fuming, but I also realized she did it out of love and affection, same as Penny.
But this time, my friends hadn’t even let me finish. “Badgering the witness before she even gives her testimony,” I muttered, and Catalina raised a dark eyebrow, as though she had carte blanch on legal terms. “Seriously, if you’d just let me finish, not even you two could predict what happened when Dillon replied.”
The skepticism that filled their expressions left no question to how little they trusted my judgment when it came to guys and my relationships, which made it harder to convince myself I had any. “Turns out, it’s not Dillon’s number anymore. It now belongs to a guy named Luke, and he and I started chatting—”
As expected, Cat launched into a spiel about catfishing and how, for all I knew, the guy could be a serial killer. Since she was longwinded when it came to that kind of thing, I finally held up the picture Luke had sent me earlier tonight.
The shift in mood was so drastic a giggle escaped. “It’s an old picture, so I don’t need any jokes about checking IDs or robbing the cradle. I told him he owed me an embarrassing picture since I’d sent him one, accidentally or not. And he sent one. Isn’t that so sweet?” I swiped to show them the other pictures, and their expressions went from creased to smooth to slack jawed.
“Damn.” Cat tugged my phone closer to her face. “How can you be sure this is him? People set up fake accounts with pictures they steal from other people all the time.”
“Hello, I’m well aware—I work in the tech industry. But what are the odds that someone who stole photos would also have a picture of the person from high school? You can see his thumb on the side, meaning it was a printed photo, not one simply lifted from the internet. More than that, we’ve already hung out a couple of times. In public places, too.” Except for the other night in my apartment, but now I understood why Past Me held back. “He’s real.”
Cat popped her skinny drink straw in her mouth and gnawed on it. “Oh. Now, I feel kinda silly for freaking out.”
I gave her the same eyebrow raise she’d given me moments ago.
