Page 111 of The Lessons

Dammit.

Undeterred, I paused in the middle of campus and texted her.

Hey, it’s me.

Okay, not very creative, but my mind felt like it was on fire. Of the thousands of options pouring through my synapses, that gem was what came out. When I got no response, I tried again.

I miss you.

I got to my bike and sat on it for a while, waiting for an answer. When nothing came, I slipped the phone in my pocket, kicked the motor on, and headed for her place.

Earlier that same Wednesday - Sixteen days P.R.A.

Natalie

Today was only Renee’s second day back at work since finding out about her husband’s philandering ways, but already she looked much better. She’d gotten a nice blow-out and was wearing a pair of killer heels. I took her out to lunch, and we both did a pretty good job of not talking aboutthee-who-shall-not-be-named.

But let’s change the subject, shall we? To tonight, perhaps? Why, you ask?

Oh, well, I’ll tell you why. This lady right here, she had a date.

That’s right,me.

Believe it or not, I’d gone back at the library last night (okay, maybe I’d been looking for Ainsley). The guy I was sharing a table with?Well, he noticed my stack of mystery novels, and we hit it off.

I texted Josh about it, and he edited his tagline of West Coast Successful to SFPL Successful. Apparently, it’s my magic space. Probably just good lighting or something. Anyway, Ian and I, we were going to catch a movie.

Justa movie.

I’d already decided that I was await for the third datekind of gal. I mean, it had worked with Ryan, hadn’t it? Third time’s a charm.

Sigh.

Ryan. The fact that I was still measuring time asPost-Ryan-Andrewsshould be a good indication of where my head was. I looked back in the mirror of my bathroom and dabbed on more of the eyeliner I’d bought for this occasion, completely unsure of the literal line between enough and too much. Then I took a few sheets of tissue and blotted my armpits. Ian was supposed to be here any minute. I guess I’d thought this whole losing-my-virginity thing would make first dates easier, but boy, was I wrong.

There was a knock at the door, so I strolled over, still barefoot, stuck a smile on my face and checked the peephole. New York habits died hard, what can I say?

I was glad I did because HOLY FUCKING SHIT RYAN ANDREWS WAS OUTSIDE MY DOOR.

My head whipped back as my blood pressure rocketed upwards towards the stratosphere. I took another peek, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

Nope. He was definitely standing outside my door. In a suit.

Fuck.

What the hell was he doing here?And more importantly:Holy crap, what was I supposed to do!?My eyes darted around my apartment in a panic. I was immediately aware I was still not ready to talk to this guy, despite the lengthy monologues I’d had with him in my head. The ones where I asked him why he’d abandoned me, and he dropped to his knees, begging for me to forgive him. I was sure that wasn’t going to happen right then, so I was not ready. Nope, not prepared at all.

Seeing him brought back all my confusion and hurt. Part of me wanted to pull open the door and scream at him. A big part. I mean, I knew he wasn’t with Lisa, but still?he’d gone along with it. He’d gone along with the lie. What was I supposed to do with that? I didn’t want to be weak simply because my vagina was yelling at me to open the door.

I needed to be strong. And moreover, I needed a second to think.

I tiptoed back across the room and took a seat on the couch, facing the door.

“Natalie? Natalie, are you in there?” he called out.

I squirmed, completely at a loss regarding what to do. Then I remembered: Ian.Fuck!Ian. I stood up silently and got my phone to text Ian.

Are you close?

---