Page 7 of Beautiful Crazy

I mean, what if I tell her I’m attracted to her, and things don’t work out? What if I tell her and she laughs in my face like she did the night I kissed her? What would I tell her brother if something happened between us and she moved out? Especially if she couldn’t find another place to stay?

What am I even saying? I wouldn’t make her move. I would just commute from Bardstown so she can have the apartment. I care about her too much to see her struggle.

See? I’m a dick.

I’m a dick for lying to my best friend, for one, but also, I’m a dick for wishing her dates wouldn’t go well so she would walk back through that door and want to snuggle with me to get over another bad night.

The clock now says twelve-thirty and she’s still not home. I guess I need to accept the inevitable. She’s an adult and she’s having a good time. Even Emily deserves a nice night with someone who must be treating her like the adorable princess she is. I just wish that guy were me.

My cellphone chimes next to me on the bed, and I grab it quickly, expecting to see a text from Emily.

Asher:I’m so duckin’ druk right now bras.

Me:Uhhhh…come again?

Graham:He’s drunk. He’s fucking drunk. Or maybe he really is ducking something…whatever that means.

Beckham:You better not be drinking at work. Bryant will have your nuts in a jar. And don’t be driving, Ash. You need a ride?

Graham:He’s at home, Beck. I just left him about an hour ago. Girl trouble.

Me:Girl trouble? What’s going on?

Asher:She’s sexing sum dud.

Me:You had sex? What? Graham…

Graham:She’s been texting some dude. I guess some guy’s been giving her attention and she mentioned it in front of Ash tonight sooo he’s a little pissed. I told him to go home and drink at there before going off on Ivy. He doesn’t need to come across as the douche in this situation.

Beckham:Good call Graham. He need anything?

Me:Like a spell-check or…?

Graham:LOL Emmettly. At least he isn’t drunk texting his mother like you did that one time.

Graham’s text makes me laugh out loud in my room as I remember that night during my freshman year of college. I was having two text conversations at once – one with my mother who was checking up on my busy week of exams and one with my brothers telling them how fucking wasted I was. It didn’t take long before I had sent the wrong text to the wrong person.

Me:LOL. I was so fucking wasted. Good thing I didn’t send her a dick pic.

Beckham: For the love of God, please tell me you’ve never sent a dick pic to anyone.

Me:…

Beckham:Fuck. You know that shit is out there now, floating around the internet? Your dick and balls…for the world to see.

Me:Good! Maybe I’ll become dick famous! That would be cool.Then you could be dick famous by proxy, Beck!

Beckham:Where’s Emily? Is she aware you send dick pics to people?

Me:How do you know I haven’t sent one to her?

Asher:LOL!!!!!!!!!!!! Gitter dun Emmmmm!

Beckham:Go to bed, Ash. Take a couple Ibuprofen first…and a glass of water.

Asher:Ok Dad.

Me:Emily’s on a date. *eye roll emoji*

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