Page 16 of Every Inch of You
I didn’tanswer.
“You aren’tstill…”
“No. I’m not in love with him. I’m just…still processing what happened. I don’t understand how the man I was in love with could start a relationship with someone else while he was still ostensibly in a relationship with me. I still can’t believe I moved here for him and he left me to move back to Seattle forher.”
“People try to justify their affairs by making the relationships seem reallyimportant.”
“I don’t think that’s what it was. I don’t think he was happy here. She blew everything up, so he didn’t have to deal with the consequences.Me.”
Frankie put her hand on top of my head. “Well. You don’t have to worry about his reasons. You just have to deal with you. Are you happyhere?”
“Yes.”
“Good...Well, anyway. You’re making a positive change in your life after a breakup now. That’s a good thing.” Frankie nodded, as if trying to convince herself of thisstatement.
“Yeah. It’s likeEat, Pray, Loveexcept I’m not allowed to eat anything awesome, I’m praying for a bus to hit me so I don’t have to do anymore sit-ups, and Brad hatesme.”
“How was the sex with Hot Brad,anyway?”
“Cold, quick, boring and sloppy. Like wolfing down a vanilla ice cream cone on a hotday.”
“Ugh. You prommed with the wrongBrad.”
I reached into the bag of plantain chips, but it was empty. “Yeah. Well. Nobody has a good first time,right?”
“Idid.”
I looked at her to see if she was kidding. She was smiling and looking down,reminiscing.
“Shutup.”
“I did. I was in love. He was my boyfriend. It wasnice.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, it was brief, of course. But I have no regrets. None atall.”
“Are you still in touch withhim?”
“Yeah. A bit. He moved to Toronto for a job after college. But hey. I’m still a single idiot with intimacy issues, so I’m sure it doesn’t really make a difference who you ‘prom with,’ in the grand scheme of things.” She checked her phone for emails. “I mean. If you went with this Brad you probably would have had a falling-out eventually and he’d still hate you now for some totally differentreason.”
“Yeah.Thanks.”
“Or. OR! This way you still get to look forward to your first time with him!” She held her hand up for a high-five. “Huh? Huh?! Don’t leave a girlhanging!”
I slapped her hand, but all I could think about was what flavor ice cream Brad Mitchell would be, and then I realized he’s a Hot Fudge Sundae with everything on it—and he would never let me eathim.
* * *
When I returnedto the gym later that evening, and saw Brad/Mitch again, he was even more excruciatingly gorgeously sexy than the day before. He was wearing an ultra tight black tank top and grey fleece pants that were deceptively plain and simple, because they hung from his hips and hugged his ass and crotch in a way that complicated everything. How could anyone look so delicious in sweatpants? How could I be expected tonottry to make out withhim?
I saw a skinny blonde go up to ask him something. Judging by her body language, the question was: “Hey, do you think I need to do more squats, or is my ass perfect the way it is? Go ahead and touch it. Touch it. With both hands.” He did a very admirable job of keeping a professional distance from her and not ogling her at all, and I did a very good job of not going over there and dragging her to the street by her stupid blondeponytail.
When he looked up and saw me, he nodded at me. He tapped his watch and told the blonde that he had to go, and he came over to greet me. “You cameback.”
“You didn’t expect meto?”
“I know better than to expect anything from you,Vivian.”
