“She’s a carbon copy of Emily but with brown hair. How is she not your type?”
April pops into my head. The way she looked that day at the lake with her wet pink hair plastered to her face and raindrops on her plump lips. I force the memory back down. “Maddie is too… I don’t know. Perfect?”
Jamie pauses the game and puts the controller on the floor. He looks at me like I have three heads. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
I rub my lips as I weigh my words. “She’s predictable.”
“Predictable?”
“Yeah. She wants someone popular and successful to show off to her friends and make her parents proud. Before I know it, I’ll attend galas and get pressured to buy her a diamond ring. Then when we’re married, she’ll complain because I’m never home when in reality she’s milking my bank account and fucking the pool boy.”
Jamie is in stitches, clutching his midriff. “Jeez, man. That’s depressing.”
“My point!”
I reach behind me for the phone again.
“I can see her being the type,” Jamie chuckles. “Fucking jersey chasers.”
My fingers fly across the screen as I type. “Tell me about it. The school is crawling with them.”
Me: The game is postponed until Tuesday next week.
April: Don’t cry too much.
I chuckle.
Me: What are you doing right now?”
“Is that her?” Jamie asks, leaning in for a peek.
I shove him away. “No, it’s not.”
That perks him up. “Who the fuck is she?”
“No one.”
April: I’m eating a chocolate cupcake sent from the heavens.
“You’re not back with Emily, are you?”
“What?” My brows knit together. “No! I told you, we’re over.”
He glances at my phone. I angle it away even though he can’t see the screen from his spot on the beanbag.
Me: You should invite me.
Jamie chuckles. “Dude, you’ve got it bad!”
I look up from the phone in my hand. “What? Fuck no!”
“Let me see who it is then!”
“Not a fucking chance,” I laugh as the phone pings.
April: I can’t share this magical place with anyone. There would be no cupcakes left.
“Stop smiling, dude. Whoever she is, she’s turning you soft.”