Page 22 of Curve Ball
I would never hurt her.
Coming on strong may have been the death of this, but I need her to know that she doesn’t have to be afraid of me.
Fuck it.
I decide to take matters into my own hands and send her a message on Instagram.
MendozaG14
Adriana, please. I just want to talk. Can you give me your number so I can call you? I think texting and messaging each other is leaving way too much to be interpreted the wrong way.
I hit send and wait, my heart pounding in my chest. I don't know what I'll do if she doesn't respond, if she keeps ignoring me.
But I have to try, have to make her see that I'm not a bad guy.
The only thing that helps keep my nerves in check is pacing my living room, my head filled with all the things I want to say to her, all the questions I need answers to. Why did she ghost me? Why did she go to the game tonight?
And most importantly, can she give me a chance to prove to her I’m worth giving a shot?
My phone buzzes, and I nearly drop it in my haste to answer. It's a message from Adriana, and my heart leaps into my throat as I open it.
adriamor
I don’t want to talk, Gael.
I stare at the message, my mind blank.I don’t want to talk.What the fuck does that mean? I type out a response, then delete it, then type another, my frustration growing with each passing second.
MendozaG14
Adriana, please. I just want to understand. Why won't you talk to me now? Tell me what I did.
I hit send and wait, but the little gray dots that show she's typing don't appear. Fuck, this is torture. Maybe I should try a different approach to appeal to the connection from that night. The chemistry that I know would still be between us if she just gave me a chance.
MendozaG14
I still feel it, you know, that soul-pulling tug from when I stared into your eyes. Every fucking day. And seeing you tonight, it's like nothing has changed.
I hit send and wait, my heart in my throat. I don't know what else to say; I don't know how to make her see that I'm serious, that I want this, want her. My phone buzzes, and I snatch it up, eager to read her response.
adriamor
I remember, Gael. But some things are better left in the past.
I stare at her message, my mind reeling. Better left in the past? No, I don’t believe that for a fucking second. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe she never felt the same way I did. It was just one night, and I was desperate to cling to someone. To feel like I could actually have something real.
Was I just a quick fuck to get over someone?
I type out a response, my fingers shaking as I tap each letter.
MendozaG14
Veo cómo es. Está bien, si así es como te sientes y solo quieres dejarlo atrás, no te mensajearé de nuevo. Realmente esperaba que me dieras una oportunidad, mama. Creo que podríamos haber sido buenos juntos.
I hit send and toss my phone onto the couch, running a hand over my hair in frustration.Fuck her, fuck this, fuck everything. I thought I was getting over her, thought I had moved on, but seeing her tonight has brought it all back—all the pain, all the longing, all the fucking hope.
Grabbing a beer from the fridge and flopping down on the couch, I take a long swig as I stare up at the ceiling. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make her see we could be good together, that we can make this work.
My phone buzzes again, and I snatch it up, hoping it's her, hoping she's changed her mind. But it's just a notification from Instagram, telling me that someone liked one of my posts. I toss the phone aside, not caring who it is, not caring about anything anymore.
