Page 5 of Texts From My Exes
“Can’t believe it actually happened.” I added with a smirk and nudge into his ribs.
He jerked away. “Not that you would know, but I do clean up nicely. And don’t be shocked but I own a brush. I just haven’t used it for a while.”
I shake my head and let out a gasp. “You mean, since I’ve known you? That’s more than a while. You know how toclean up. But I haven’t seen your eyes in years, not with those highlighter-colored glasses and all that hair. You basically wear a disguise every day. Wonder what would happen if you took it off?”
He exhaled like he’s heard this before, which he has, over and over again like a broken record. His claim that he’s too beautiful for words is starting to get old. “Screaming. Rejection. Immediate tears. Apocalypse, maybe.”
“Or,” I said in a light voice, “people would just see you.”
He doesn’t respond.
The previews end, and we settled into a nice silence as blocky pixelated characters took over the screen.
“This isMinecraft,” I whispered.
“You picked it.”
“It has zombies.”
He cursed. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?”
“Hold my hand if I get scared?” I asked.
“It’s a PG animated movie.”
“Still counts.” I scooted closer and nestled my head on his shoulder. He went still for a mere second before finally relaxing beneath me.
The screen suddenly came to life, lighting up in soft green tones. Around twenty minutes in, sheep were attacked, zombies groaned, I learned I would be a terrible miner, and amidst the crunching of nachos and smell of popcorn and broken dreams—I finally relaxed and didn’t feel like my life just got set on fire and shoved over a cliff.
I had Ezra to thank and for just a few seconds, I held onto him a little bit tighter.
CHAPTER
THREE
HARPER
Hey babe. I just wanted to say sorry about cutting your hair that one time you were sleeping, but everyone has a fetish. I think you should be more accepting, and I wasn’t burning it, it caught fire when I was lighting my joint, the cops saw nothing!
–Peter
The movie ended too soon.
The soft comfort of leaning against Ezra, of letting my brain go blank for ninety whole minutes, vanished like my virginity after freshman year orientation in college. The theater lights flickered to life, bright and unforgiving, and I’m immediately slapped in the face by the reality of what tomorrow brings, and all the soon to be attention along with it. Needing a distraction, I thought about the upcoming school year.
I still had a few weeks before school started, but I needed to get my classroom fully set up. And I know Ezra—soft-hearted sucker that he is— will help. He can’t help himself. He loves the smell of schools for some sick reason. He says it’s the paint, glue, Crayola markers and broken dreams. It's his signature scent and I freaking love him for it.
I chewed my bottom lip, still, I should at least pretend to be responsible and go pick up more supplies tomorrow. Decide on a theme for this year’s fifth grade class. Last year, I swore if one more kid said“no cap”to me in the middle of a lesson, I’d make baseball caps the actual theme. Like, everywhere. On the walls. On the spelling tests. Hanging from the ceiling like a fashion-forward Sword of Damocles.
It was an empty threat, of course. That class moved on to sixth grade, unbothered and unscathed, while I remained behind—battle-worn and slightly traumatized.
Ezra tossed our popcorn in the trash, followed by the empty Twizzlers bag. Then, without a word, he slipped his jacket off and draped it over my shoulders.
I didn’t even realize I was cold. But my arms were covered in goosebumps, and my heart did something traitorous. It skipped a bit, reminding me that good guys do exist, and that sometimes they exist in the form of a best friend and a line that won’t and can’t ever be crossed. He was my only solid. You do not dabble with your solid. Everyone has one person, like the one that will die for you, go to prison for you, bury a body, and tell you you’re hot when your pants are on backwards; he’s my one and only. Losing him would be like losing the ability to breathe. I refused it. And as cranky as he acted, I knew I was his too. We didn’t have many friendship understandings or rules—except that one.
Do not fall for your best friend.
Do not sleep with your best friend.
