Page 47 of The Situation
I’ll never smell vanilla again and not get a hard-on.
The suite feels too big. Too empty. Too quiet. There’s too much space for me to let my mind run wild.
Surely, she didn’t leave because she isn’t into me …right?
“Nah,” I say, heading back into the bedroom. “Her note said it was an incredible night, and I should call her. She just forgot to leave her number.”
I’ll just find her on Social.
I grab my phone and pull up the app. Then I type inKelly Kapowski.
Four accounts pull up with the same chick that is definitely not my Kelly.
“The fuck?”
I open a browser and search for her there.
“Why is this only pulling up a television show?” I open one article and discover that Kelly Kapowski is the name of a character from a teenage sitcom. “Her mom must’ve been a fan. People are so weird.”
The knot in my stomach grows tighter by the minute. I can’t shake it off. I’m sure it’s just a case of confusion, disappointment, and blue balls. Still, I need someone to tell me that I’m overreacting.
I grab my phone and call Carys.
“Why are you calling me so early on a Saturday morning?” Carys asks, yawning.
“Hello to you, too.”
“Is anyone dying?” Gannon asks from the background.
“No,” I say. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Then why the hell are you calling us this early?” Gannon asks.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not calling you. I’m calling Carys.”
“You’re going to learn boundaries one way or the other,” my brother says.
“Yeah. Later,” I say. “Carys, I’m having a slight emergency, and I need your help.”
“For the love of God, Tate …” Gannon mutters, sighing heavily for my benefit, I’m sure.
The line gets fuzzy for a moment before Carys’s voice rings through the line.
“What’s your emergency?” she asks.
“He probably found out Kelly isn’t real,” Gannon says.
“She is real, asshole. Trust me. I fucked her for six or seven hours last night.”
Carys sighs. “So … emergency?” Carys asks impatiently.
“She might be real, but she was gone this morning,” I say, the words a little wobbly as they come out.
“What do you mean she was gone this morning?” Carys asks.
I pace the room. “I don’t know. She was gone. I went to sleep with her on top of me, and I woke up alone. She took her clothes and the pie and left.”
“Pie?” Carys asks.
