Page 9 of A Minute More

It’s fucking frustrating, but I let it go. He’s made his point loud and clear. He doesn’t want me to know him. Which is fine. We don’t have to be friends. We can just be coworkers…awkward and silent coworkers. This odd obsession I have with him will dull with time. When you’ve been kicked enough, you tend to stay in your lane.

And that’s exactly what he’s doing to me. I know my place.

Another rush comes at dinner, and Simon and I work in silence, efficient and quiet until we close up shop. I can’t quite keep my eyes off of him, but I manage to keep my lips sealed shut.

And when we part ways later that night, I offer him a small wave which he doesn’t return.

Okay, yeah. Message received, loud and clear. For real this time. I know this needs to end.

Making my way home, I feel a lot better than I did earlier, the Advil Simon gave me working wonders. I flop down on my bed and scroll through my socials, snapping a few pictures of myself shirtless and posting them on Instagram because I’m feeling like I need some affirmation. I mean, these internet strangers want to be my friends, yeah? Simon doesn’t matter. When I’m done, I set the phone down and place a hand over my eyes.

Goddammit. I need some sleep, but my hand lifts my phone once more, and I stare at my posts, waiting for the comments to come in. And they quickly do. Immediately, I start to feel my spirits rise from the positive comments I’m getting. I respond to each of them for a while until my eyes start to droop.

My phone falls onto my face, and I jolt awake, rubbing at my sore cheek.

Goddammit, I think as I turn onto my side and put the pillow over my face. My breath puffs in and out, and I find my eyes closing once more.

And once again my mind wanders to Simon and what he’s doing tonight.

* * *

I realize I need a distraction. A hobby maybe. Something to take my mind off a person I shall not think about and yet cannot help but obsess over. And I know just the thing.

“Come on. Come play disc golf with me,” I beg, staring with wide eyes at Jude who is pursing his lips and tapping his foot on the ground.

“You know I suck at that game. My manliness is questioned every time I throw the damn thing and it goes sideways.”

“Come on. Please. What are friends for, Jude?”

I bat my eyelashes at him and a moment later, he caves like I knew he would. Then we’re on our way to the park with Ollie who happened to catch us as we were leaving and hopped in the car to join.

“Since when do you want to play disc golf again?” Jude asks as I speed down the road. His red hair is brushed back and a baseball cap is drawn low over his eyes. The freckles on his arms and legs and even those on his nose are slathered in sunscreen. I guess he hates disc golf for more than just sucking at the game. He probably dreads getting sunburned every time he leaves the house.

“Since I needed to get out. I’m going crazy cooped up in there after work all day.”

“Yeah, but you’re out of the house plenty. You’re like never home.”

I can’t really describe it, but if I sit in my room, I go back to obsessing and it’s not healthy. Scrambles my brain. I don’t know why I’ve latched on to him, but I have. I need to stay busy to keep my mind off of he who will not be named.

“Maybe you just need a fuck or something. It has been ages,” Ollie chirps, and I scowl at him from the rearview mirror. His black hair flops on his forehead and he smiles widely at me. He looks a bit like a young Josh Hartnett with longer hair and tattoos.

Whatever happened to that dude?

“Yeah, man. Maybe we should go hit up some bars in the city…” Jude interjects, and I roll my eyes at him. “Should go do that instead of this frisbee shit.”

“For real? It’s two o’clock in the afternoon.”

“So?”

“Look, guys. I just wanna play frisbee golf at the park. Stop bitching.”

Jude slumps in his seat and folds his arms across his chest. “Fine. Whatever. When I come back as red as a lobster, that’s on you.”

Ollie wiggles in the back seat and then taps me on the shoulder. “But for real though…you with anyone?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“Nah. Not after things ended with Colleen.”

“That was eons ago,” Jude says, his eyebrows flying up his forehead. Apparently, he gets it regularly. From who, I have no idea, but he’s always on bootie calls, out all hours of the night, returning home with swollen lips and rumpled hair. And it hasn’t been with Cassidy either. Despite Jude harping on me about meeting up with her, he actually disappeared earlier that night and never returned, leaving Cassidy alone.

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