Page 108 of Storm in a Teacup
When Linny’s family takes off, Isla comes into the kitchen and throws a muffin at me. I catch it before dropping it on the counter.
“Why were you hiding back here?” she asks.
“I was busy,” I lie.
Her eyes meet the ceiling. “Sure.” She leans against the doorframe, hands in the pockets of her loose trousers. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. We just…” I can’t saybroke up, because that’s not what we did. We just stopped. We are no more. The terms of our agreement have expired. It all went kaput. “We’re finished with the whole fake relationship thing,” I finally land on. “There was no need for me to come say hello to her family.”
Isla jerks her head. “So, I can tell Rachel now? I mean, I’ll ask that she keep it from David.”
“I don’t care,” I say honestly. “At this point, I couldn’t care less who finds out. David can find out, and it doesn’t matter.”
“Well, good, because Rachel already knows.” I’m not even surprised. Isla purses her lips. “Are you okay? I know you fancy her.”
“I more than fancy her.” I drag a hand down my face. “But yeah. I’m fine.”
“You sure you don’t want to try for real with her?”
“There’s no point. It’s not what she wants.”
Isla looks doubtful. “If you say so. My only request is that you stop breaking up with people I like. Your next person should be unlikable so I don’t get attached.”
“I’ll make sure I hate them so you can too.” We shake on it, then she pivots out of the room, heading back up front to wait on a customer who just walked in.
I cannot believe I shook Linny’s hand. I shook her hand like I didn’t even know her. It’s just, I thought about hugging her and smelling that citrus scent I love so much. The idea of it alone was enough to break me. I couldn’t let her see me broken. I’ve only just begun to repair.
…
Nearly a week goes by, and I don’t see Linny once. Trust me, I’m looking for her, but I think she is doing everything in her power to avoid me. Likely for the best, though. Seeing her would hurt in ways I can’t even begin to describe.
I’ve gone back to using my old soap so I don’t smell like her anymore, but that hasn’t stopped me from popping the cap and taking a deep whiff of her body wash every time I enter my bathroom. I can’t bring myself to throw it away.
After I leave the café on Friday, I’m back home lounging on my couch and scrolling endlessly on my phone. I come across a cute cat video and am tempted to send it to Linny, but hold myself back.
Now that I’m thinking about her (like I even stopped), I read the last text I sent:Drink water please. She hearted it at first, butchanged it to a thumbs up, probably hoping that I didn’t notice. I noticed.
I toss my phone to the side only to immediately pick it back up, in need of a distraction. I text David.
ME: You working tonight?
DAVID: Till close. You want to stop by?
ME: Aye. I’ll see you in 30
I force myself up to put real trousers back on and change out of the stained T-shirt I’m wearing with the café’s logo on the chest. I mess with my hair a bit, fussing over a new silver strand that will not settle down,thisclose to plucking it out. Ergh. The bar is dark. No one will notice.
I leave my flat, finally deciding to walk to Hoot. When I get there, I head down the familiar staircase, push my way through the door, and slide into a seat in front of David, who is cosplaying as a classic bartender, wiping out glasses with a little rag.
“Hey, man,” he says. “Want anything?”
“Death,” I say, naming one of their signature cocktails. I lean my chin on my hand as I watch him make my drink. He slides it over to me, and I take a slow sip. “Thanks.”
“You doing alright? How’s Linny?”
The person I came here to stop thinking about. That lasted, what? Two minutes?
“Fine, I assume.”
