Page 20 of Sweeter

Like doesn’t begin to cover it. Not a minute has passed since Will and I slept together that I haven’t thought of him. But I couldn’t see a way to like him around the quarter million dump he took on my PayPal account.

“I really like him. But what if things can never be normal between us?”

Anna laughs. She throws her head back and laughs so hard, Tia briefly glances up from Peppa Pig.

I put down my coffee. “What? Is it because I’m not normal? Or Will’s not normal? What?”

But Anna just gets to her feet, sweeping glossy hair over her shoulder. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Will’s place. Or you are, anyway. Walk me and Tia to our car and then go see him.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ You can’t go sobbing every time Tia says something cute. She’s a cute kid, you’ll never stop crying.”

I laugh. “That’s a good point.”

“Honey, all my points are good.” Anna kisses my cheek. “Nothing is ever normal. Not for you or Will or me or anyone. Ever. It’s all fucked, all the time, so just go see Hat Boy and give him that thing in your hand.”

I look down and see I’m clutching the keychain. I made it the afternoon Will sent me the money, a tiny baby-blue toolbox like the one he hauled out of his truck. I cried while I was welding the sides together and wished we’d never met, but I didn’t send back the money and I re-read his texts every night before I fall asleep.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll go see him, only I’ll have to call him and find his address.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll send it to you.”

“How do you know where Will lives?”

“Research. I was going to fuck up that Felix guy’s house, but it turns out the prick really is in Bali.” Anna heaves a disappointed sigh and looks me up and down. “What are you wearing to this rendezvous?”

I look down at my pinafore which is flecked with terracotta and coffee stains. “Not this?”

“Good choice.”

I follow Anna’s advice and head home to shower and change into my good white shirt, plaid skirt, and lady brogues. I do my makeup while my hair dries, then throw on a red velvet headband. I want to look good enough that Will forgets that the last time I saw him, I threw a latte in his face.

I rush to my car, which is still running on Will magic, and head for Montrose Hill. The address Anna sent me is a triple story McMansion, all windows and bluish-gray concrete. It’s sleek, but soulless and I can’t imagine Will living there. I park and walk the winding driveway. Is Will watching from any of the tinted windows? Do I want him to be? My heart beats hard and fast and I grip the keychain, the edges giving me comfort as I get to the front door.

I take a deep breath and ring the bell. There’s no response. I squint through the window and see a load of cardboard boxes stacked by the door. My stomach drops. He can’t be moving, can he? I mean, I know Felix is gone and Will has no other ties to Montana, but to just leave?

I pace the doorstep and try to think. I could call him, but reaching out only to be told he’s moving to New York or Tokyo or somewhere would hurt so bad. I could write a letter, but I don’t have a pen or paper. Eventually, I wipe my eyes and hang the keychain on the door handle. When Will sees it, he’ll know it’s from me. Then he can decide what to do. I waited two weeks to get in touch with him, I’ll have to accept what he chooses.

I adjust mini-toolbox so it won’t slip and shatter, and hear a car approach. I turn and see Will’s truck gliding up the driveway like a shark. My mood lights up like a Christmas tree, at least until the panic sets in. Why didn’t I call? Text? Why did I leave our last encounter at me throwing a drink in his face? Who is even operating my brain?

Will gets out of the truck. He’s dressed strangely in heavy boots and blue canvas pants. I give him a silly little wave and he raises a palm in response. I can’t read his expression—he’s wearing his flat-brim cap again, concealing his lovely face.

“Hey, William Faulkner!” I call out. “How’s it going?”

I can’t see Will’s eyes, but his mouth twitches. I’m guessing this all seems a little weak considering how I left things.

“I’m sorry for freaking out about the money,” I say. “And that I didn’t return your calls. And that I threw that coffee at you.”

Will doesn’t say anything. I want him to, but I’m the one who’s been ghosting him for a week. I owe him the words and expressions. I swallow and power on. “The thing is, I’m used to being the only one who really believes in me. I didn’t get how someone like you could come into my life and…well, I’m sure you had good reasons for giving me that money, but I didn’t see them because it made me feel small. So I’m sorry and I probably don’t deserve a second chance but, uh, maybe you could give me one, anyway?”

Silence follows. A long painful one. Will rubs his jaw but he doesn’t say a thing. He looks like he did in the manager’s office at Plonk; a little distant, a little bored, a cosmonaut drifting through infinite space. I close my eyes, ignoring the abyss opening between my ribs. “Okay, well, great to see you, have a nice future. There’s something for you on the door if you want it and...yeah.”

I power walk down the driveway, needing to exit this living hell, and Will steps into my path. “When you said you couldn’t understand how ‘someone like me’ could come into your life, do you mean a tech bro?”

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