Page 105 of Just for Fun
“Yeah,” he confirms. “I had the phone on speaker, and you were sitting right here. So no surprises there.”
“I know, but I’m just wondering how that will happen. Should I call him and say that you told me to? Should you tell him to call me instead? What’s the best course of action?”
“Course of action,” he snorts. “We are all adults here. So the course of action is this.”
He takes a moment to mull things over. I can see the wheels turning in his head as he hatches something in there.
“I got it!” He flicks his fingers. “Weekend of the Fourth is coming up next week. I will tell him to meet you there.”
I think his idea over. It’s a good idea for me to see him again somewhere in public. If the conversation doesn’t go well, I can just get in my car and drive away.
“Is there anywhere there that me and Kyle can talk?” I ask my brother.
He huffs at me. “You mean privately?”
“Well, yeah, I…”
He bursts into laughter. “Where would the fun in that be?”
“I have no idea what you mean by that, Owen. And I confess that I am a little worried seeing that look on your face.”
“All I’m saying that his friends humiliated my sister in public,” he points out the embarrassing obvious. “So it’s only fair formyfriends to humiliatehimin public.”
“Owen.” I laugh at the absolute joy on his face when he says that. “That’s just petty. And no one would end up winning from it.”
He ponders it for a bit. “I suppose you’re right. However!”
“Why is there ahowever?” I groan.
“I need to get something out of this,” he declares. “That fucker promised me that he’d get me into one of his focus groups for his games. He lied.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not in any focus group, Zara. Where’s my focus group?”
I shake my head at him, in awe of how much like a twelve-year-old he can sound sometimes.
“Maybe they haven’t had anything new that required feedback, Owen.”
From the look on his face, I’d say the thought never crossed his mind.
“Either way, I want in.”
The rest of the evening goes by fast. Once I feed him, my brother is not as wound up about Kyle’s focus groups. He doesn’t even mention it again. When he leaves, he promises to call back with a more concrete plan of when and where I should meet with Kyle.
I see him out the door, then go back to my living room. I sit back in the recliner and think. The last couple of weeks have been brutal, but at least I didn’t call into work again despite thefact that I was obsessing over the events from the wedding where I was Kyle’s guest.
I wonder what everyone said about me after I left. I was a crying mess, and I didn’t even say my goodbyes. I am still horrified by the conversation I had with Alex. If by some miracle things work out between me and Kyle, I doubt that I’ll ever be able to be in the same room as him.
My cell phone ringing from the kitchen distracts me from all this intense thinking about Kyle’s alleged best friend. I stand up and rush to grab it but hesitate when I don’t recognize the number on the screen. I watch it ring until it goes to voicemail. Thinking it was a telemarketer, I am about to walk away, when the phone rings again. Same number.
“Hello?” My voice sounds hesitant when I answer this time.
There’s nobody on the line, and I am about to hang up.
“Is this Zara?” A male’s voice sounds off.
I hesitate for a second. “Yes, it is.”
