My phone buzzes a minute later, and I assume it’s Sienna and answer.
“Ben, thanks for picking up.” Janelle’s familiar voice guts me so fast, I can’t see straight. I double-check the caller ID to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Nope, there’s her beautiful, treacherous face, smiling up at me. Why didn’t I ever delete that photo? Or her number?
“The fuck do you want?” I growl.
She clears her throat. “It’s good to hear your voice even though...”
She lets the statement hang, so I finish it for her. “Even though you cut me out of your life?”
I’m only the asshole who dated her for two years and let her lead me around by my dick until she found someone she liked better.
Dr. Patricia is always reminding me I need to take responsibility for my role in things, owning that and only that. I’m not responsible for other people’s actions.
So here’s my role—I’m the dumb asshole who fell in love with the first girl I had sex with. I allowed that to cloud my judgment and was stupid enough to accept her lies.
“Listen, I know you’re probably still upset with me.”
I almost laugh. She breaks up with me shortly after we graduate from high school, blocks my number, and chooses a different college at the last second, and she describes it as ‘upset?’ It’s been three years, but her betrayal still feels shockingly fresh. Maybe it’s because every time I go home, I have to listen to my aunt and uncle rave how much they adore her.
Funny, but they never mention how she got knocked up by some rando the freaking second she left me.
All at once, my anger deflates. Why pine for a woman who doesn’t want you? Not that I was waiting around for her all this time. “Just tell me what you need so we can get this over already.”
She’s quiet so long, I look down at the screen to see if she’s still there.
“I miss you. I miss you, and there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
I ignore the words of affection because they don’t mean shit. She can flip that switch faster than anyone I know. One second she’s sweet and alluring, and the next, she’s sharpening a blade to stab me in the back. “Just tell me what you want. Nice of you to unblock me, by the way. I don’t have any of your stuff anymore. I left all your shit with your parents.”
That’s the hardest part—my aunt and uncle are best friends with her family, and they’re always conspiring to bring us together. It’s exhausting.
“Ben, you have every right to be upset with me, and I understand. I was a horrible person. I’m sorry for how things ended.”
“How’s Ernest?” I roll my eyes when I say his name. He’s some vegan, poetry-writing, musician douchebag.
“We broke up, but that’s not why I called. I need to see you. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, but could we possibly meet up? For old times’ sake?”
Old times’ sake? Yeah. Fuck that.
An hour later, I’m sprawled on the couch downstairs with a beer. My roommate Olly does a double-take when he sees me.
“Why are you sitting in the dark like a psycho?” He flips on the lights. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it.” I scrub my hand over my face.
“Tell Uncle Olly all your problems.”
I throw a pillow at him. Ever since our roommate Rider found out he had a kid, Olly gave himself this dumb nickname. His real name is Michael Oliver, and he’s a big nerd. Kinda love the guy. Always has a cheery outlook. I give him a brief rundown of my conversation with Janelle.
Johnny Johnson, our other roommate, joins us. “Want some?” He waves a joint in front of us.
“Didn’t you learn your lesson last year?” Olly asks, referring to the baby mama drama last fall that started with some extra-strong pot brownies.
Johnny smirks. “Technically, it was the year before that, but now I only consume the finest weed from the best dealers and not dick-chasers at parties. I have at least a month or two before we’re drug-tested, and I plan to make the most of it. Anyway, what’re we talking ’bout?”
If Olly is the brains of the household, you can guess what that makes Johnny.
Since all the seniors graduated, we’re the only three left from last year’s household, but our new roommates are moving in within the next few days since training camp is starting soon.
Olly slouches back on the couch and motions to me. “B-Rod got a call from his ex.”
Johnny takes an extra-long drag. Squinty-eyed, he chokes out, “It’s a booty call.”
Everything is a booty call for Johnny. I give them the big picture and leave out the fact that she left me completely heartbroken.
I look to Olly, who nods slowly. “You guys haven’t talked in, what, three years?”
“More or less. Since we left for college.” Dodging her when we’re both back home requires some stealth, but I’ve managed it thus far.
Olly rubs his chin. “Is she why you’ve plowed your way through half of the females at this fine educational institution?”
“They say the fastest way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
Johnny jams two fingers through the circle he makes with his other hand. “Bro, the fastest way to get over an ex is to fuck her senseless.”
I cringe. “I’m not fucking my ex. And it’s complicated. Our parents are best friends.”
“You mean your aunt and uncle?” Johnny asks. Olly nudges him. “What? I have to know who everyone is first before I make an informed decision.”
“Yeah, my aunt and uncle. They adopted me after my mom passed.” I shrug. “If I hook up with Janelle, I’m afraid it’ll mean more than it should. No, thanks.”
“Don’t be hasty. For once, I’m going to agree with Johnny J here.” Olly strokes his chin like he’s some deep thinker. “She obviously screwed you up. This is your chance to show her what she’s missing and exemplify all of your new skills. Because, come on, how well could you butter her biscuit when you were, what, sixteen?”
I can’t believe I’m sitting here discussing this. “Almost eighteen. Started dating at the end of sophomore year, and she made me wait until we were seniors before we did the deed.” I didn’t mind at the time. I loved her. I would’ve done anything for her.
“Jesus. So you had it bad, huh?” Johnny asks. “You had to, to go that long without boning. Is she hot?” He holds his hands out in an approximation of what he considers great tits, which would make most women topple over from the weight.
I roll my eyes. Everything for him is about tits and ass. “Janelle is beautiful.” Or at least she was before she turned into Medusa and turned what’s left of my heart to stone.
“First off,” Olly says, holding up a finger, “I wouldn’t worry about her family. She’s in college, right?” When I nod, he continues. “It’d be different if she were living at home, but she’s not, so I wouldn’t worry about everyone getting up in your business.”
Not a bad argument. I don’t technically know anything about her living situation, but she hasn’t come around to my uncle’s house with her parents in a long while, so that bodes well.