Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“Well…I wouldn’t call it a breakup,” I reply, as we hop in Marissa’s pickup. It always cracks me up how such a small girl can drive such an enormous truck. “But I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”
“Oh, come on, girl,” Marissa says, pressing me as she pulls out and starts heading in the direction of my apartment. “This is just too crazy of a situation for you not to tell me.”
I mean, she is right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to get into, especially right after running into Craig. I’m not sure why, but for some reason, I feel like it would be easier talking to her about it if I hadn’t just seen him.
“Okay fine,” I say as she drives. “I told you about how my dad died when I was thirteen. So I guess you could say I had ‘daddy issues’ for a while after that. And Craig was the first guy who really made me feel safe.”
“And then he cheated on you!” Marissa suggests.
“No!” I reply quickly. “No, Craig isn’t that kind of guy.”
“Well, the girls back at the office seem to like him, that’s for sure.”
I think back to Jasmine on his lap, giggling and loving every second of it, and for some reason, a tinge of jealousy ignites inside me, pinching at my heart. I haven’t seen Craig in five years. Why should I be jealous?
“Well, he definitely did something to piss you off,” Marissa replies. “I saw the way you reacted when you saw him. The way you stormed out of there like he was a grenade about to explode.”
“Yes, yes,” I say quickly. “He did do something, but it wasn’t cheating on me.”
“Okay, what then?”
We’re nearly back to my apartment now, and I’m doing the best I can to simply describe everything that went down between Craig and me without actually reliving it or replaying it in my mind – and I’m failing miserably.
The emotions are coming back, rising up like a thousand balloons inside me. I do my best to push them back down so I can continue the story.
“Well, he invited me to prom–”
“Terrible!” Marissa jokes. She can tell all this is upsetting me, so she’s doing her best to lighten the mood. Just another reason I love her so much as a friend. She really knows how to read the room.
“It wasn’t that,” I laugh. “I said yes to going to prom. I was nervous, but all excited of course. I had my dress and was all ready to go, but when the big day rolled around, Craig completely ghosted me.”
Marissa gasps as she pulls into the lot of my apartment building. “He did not!”
“He sure did.” I nod. “Not only that, but he didn’t just ghost me, he completely vanished. Word is he moved with his family or something, but he never texted, never let me know where he went or what happened. I never even heard from him again until I just ran into him tonight.”
Marissa usually has a witty remark or comeback for everything, but I can see even she’s a bit taken aback with this one.
“Wow,” she says simply. “That is…”
“Crazy?” I suggest, pushing open my door. “Yeah, I know.”
I step out into the cold night and head for the door leading into my apartment, knowing Marissa will follow. She’s right behind me by the time I’ve got my key in the lock and am stepping inside.
“Aren’t guys just the worst?” she asks as we make our way down the hall toward my unit. “You just can’t trust them.”
Easy for her to say. Marissa’s had nothing but great luck with guys. They all seem to love her, and she’s been with her current long-term boyfriend, Jason, for three years now. But I appreciate her doing her best to commiserate with me. It’s sweet.
“I guess not.” I shrug, stepping up to my apartment door. I am sliding my key into the door when I hear another door at the end of the hall open up, and my whole chest goes tight. I try to hurry, but it’s no use. I’m too late.
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” I turn and see Dana, my landlord, stepping out of her room with a very displeased look on her face like she just caught someone in the act. She crosses her arms over her chest and scowls. I don’t know why, but Dana has always given me the impression of a boot camp instructor.
“Hi, Dana,” I say, trying to sound as harmless as possible. “Happy holidays?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be a happy holiday when I get all that back rent you owe me!”
I cringe inside.
Did you have to say all that in front of Marissa?
“I know, Dana. I know I owe you, and I’m sorry. I’m working on it–”