Page 89 of Told You So
Nick’s phone vibrates on his nightstand, making me jump. I wonder if I should get it or not, or maybe take it to him, as I walk over and pick it up. “Your phone’s ringing,” I tell him.
“It’s fine. I’ll call her back later.”
I stare at the name blinking on the screen and the pretty redhead who’s smiling back at me. He knew it was Savannah calling him, which is strange, but I try not to let it bother me. I know that they’re friends and they talk sometimes, even if it is seven in the morning.
But even though I know that, it doesn’t sit right with me. He saw her last night, that’s why he was late getting home, and she’s calling him again, already. I know Nick isn’t Mike, but his friendship with Savannah hits a little too close to home for me to brush it off completely.
When the call goes to voicemail, I see there are four missed calls since last night, one of them was around the time I woke up to find him out in the living room. Was that who Nick was talking to?
I try to remember what he was saying, but it’s a bit of a blur.
“We’re just friends.”But who was Nick talking about, me or Savannah?
His words stoke a smoldering memory from three years ago, and I can’t help the churning unease in my stomach, it’s too visceral and alive to ignore.
“You knew it would be Savannah,” I say.
“Yeah, I figured.” He says it so nonchalantly, like her popping up on New Year’s, and last night, and this morning after we shared the night together, is something I should get used to.
My grip tightens around his phone. “Why is she calling you so much?” I ask, finally dropping his phone on the bed.
I hear the medicine cabinet open and shut before he answers. “I already told you, she’s having a hard time with a few things.”
His easiness in speaking about his ex-girlfriend makes me bristle. “Never mind the vagueness of that statement, don’t you think it’s weird that you guys were together, she broke it off, and yet she’s still calling you all the time?” I can’t help but wonder if whatever is between him and Savannah isn’t over.
“No, it’s complicated. It’s just how we are.”
And we’re complicated and look how we are,I don’t say.
“We didn’t break up because we don’t get along, it was because of distance. So, of course we’re still friends.”
I stand in his room, staring at the doorway, my mind and heart telling me two different things. He probably doesn’t get it, he doesn’t understand how hard this is for me. But, the red flags are too glaring to dismiss just because it’s Nick.
He comes into his bedroom and clasps his hands on my shoulders with a grin. “Please don’t be weird about this, okay? We really are just friends.” He leans in for a quick peck on my cheek and tugs his shirt over his head.
I hand him his phone, wondering what his feelings for her really are, the ones deep down he doesn’t admit to. The remnants of the relationship they had thathedidn’t want to end.
“Please stop looking at me like that, Bethany,” he says, finally stopping long enough to take this seriously. “I would do the same thing for Sam or Mac, and you wouldn’t get upset about that. I hope.”
“No, I wouldn’t. But you haven’t slept with Sam or Mac. They didn’t dump you like Savannah did.”
He glares at me. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” He slides his phone into his back pocket.
“I’m sorry, Nick, but it’s true. Have you stopped to ask yourself why she keeps callingyou? Because it seems like she’s not over you yet.”
He shrugs. “Maybe she’s not, but why does it matter? Nothing will happen, and I can’t just ignore her. You have to understand that.”
“I understand that you don’t want to hurt her feelings Nick, and maybe she does need you,ormaybe that’s why you guys need to stop talking—so she can move on. She’s going to have to eventually. Now seems like a pretty good time to me. You have to understandthat, too.”
“Bethany,” he says, more irritated now. He scrubs his fingers through his damp hair. “Look, it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“It’s just not. I need you to stop making a big deal about this, okay? I promise you, nothing will happen. We’re just friends.”
It’s a familiar story I’ve heard before, and even though I believe Nick thinks that, I have to know one thing. I follow him into the living room where he plops down on the couch. “Does she know we’re together?”
“What?” he pulls on his shoe. I don’t repeat myself because I know he heard me. “No, she doesn’t. I haven’t had time to tell her.”
