I kept putting our proposal on hold, but she recently seemed to be pulling away. Unwilling to let her slip through my fingers, I bought the ring. Unbeknownst to me, I’d lost her then, and
Like Conor always said, “Don't be a crap taco. Be one of the delicious kinds with all the cheese and meats.”
Tacos were the best stoner food, I’d know, Conor smoked far too much. Felicity didn’t get that memo, and if I didn’t dump her, I’d have been stuck with a tortilla and no filling. I’ll never look at tacos the same.
With my stuff neatly tucked away just as always and ready to go at a moment’s notice, I hesitated, momentarily torn. Why had she done this? If she was still a part of my life, I’d never have to wonder if she would stay by my side. My red firecracker.
I opened the drawers, took everything out, and shoved it in my bags. Since Felicity didn’t try to stop me anymore, I figured she realized it was over too. There was no coming back from what she’d done.
Goodbye, Ephraim. It sucked while it lasted. Good fucking riddance.
The drive wasn’t long, but it opened my eyes. Felicity wasn’t ever good enough. She probably didn’t think I had enough money or something. What could I have possibly done to deserve this?
An hour later, I arrived at Conor’s. He asked what went down, and I cut the details as much as possible. Dwelling on it and even thinking about it hurt.
We drank some whiskey, and a shit ton of beer. I had to stay away from the rum. When I lost Rebel, I drank for weeks. Rum would always be a trigger to it, and I craved it at this very moment.
“Bro, she didn’t really do that,” Conor grumbled after I told him about her boss.
Chugging the last bit of my beer, I pulled head back and sighed. “Yeah, her boss. Apparently, he’s around for her when I’m not. Fucking classic.”
“I’m sorry, man. Luckily for us, there’s that new site, Babes & Bros.” His voice hiked up a bit.
Conor using a dating site? I never thought I’d see the day.
“I’m not ready.”
I wasn’t. She’d just stomped on my heart. Men had a recovery time too. Some did jump into the sack and fucked whoever but not me. Sex didn’t fulfill anything I was missing. If anything, it depleted me, making the emptiness from betrayal more aware.
“A few one-night stands will fix that for you.” He smiled reassuringly, but my best friend knew me through and through. It wouldn’t fix a thing.
“I’m not searching for a quick fuck, dude.”
“Oh, it’s love you are after, huh?” His attempt to brighten the mood didn’t help. If anything, it made me think of Felicity.
“Is that so bad?”
“Sounds a little pussy-like to me, but whatever floats your Coen boat.” He lightly punched my arm.
“You’re so fucking stupid.”
“It’s all the weed I smoke. Just messing. It’s hanging out with your team all the time.” He laughed, throwing his head back.
“That I can actually believe.” I tried joking, chuckling, or whatever would help, but it didn’t work.
“At least try the site. There is real dating, quickies, and friendship-type things.” He said relationship-like-things like he didn’t know what the hell one actually was.
“Okay. I’ll check it out,” I responded noncommittally.
After whipping out my phone, I went to the google store and downloaded the app. The clichés all over made me want to gag. “Single chicks one-click away,” and “Mail-order brides right here!” Online dating wasn’t for me. If you could claim those sites as dating. Was I really doing this? I guessed so.
Within moments, I received a response. “Hey, big daddy, would you like to get a drink?”
Big daddy?
“The fuck is wrong with women? This one just called me big daddy.”
“Maybe she’s into kink. You may like that kind of stuff. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”
I clicked the “Peace Sign” and was done with her, and then continued scrolling through the possible people nearby. My heart stopped suddenly. Rebel Payne. She went back to her maiden name, instead of Leatherby, Carl’s last name. Her ruby red hair was still the same. Her sky-blue eyes with silver flecks called to me just as they had in high school, and she still lived in Mt. Pleasant.
Then it clicked in my head like one of those light bulbs. It exploded from the power of the connection. Our connection.
Carl Leatherby. My ex had fucked hers. The irony. Rebel married him because she thought he was nice. Well, he was a cockwomble. We’d been inseparable before he came along. I fell for my best friend. She didn’t know I loved her like that, and I remembered her dating that prick from the get-go.
Why him?
When they started going out, he told her to stay away from me. Eventually, she stopped fighting him, and I wondered if Carl told her she didn’t deserve better. Stacy Babineaux, Rebel’s bff, kept up with me until graduation. When she dropped contact with me too, I ran away to the city. BMX came naturally to me, I did small tours down here, then left the city for bigger events, and made a career of it. The BMX Sports Association called me the oldest in the division, and it rang true. Most of the time, kids were the main slices of this sport. I kicked all their asses, showed them up, and beat their highest routines.
By the time I made it big, I made myself forget about the girl who chose a cooter-cleaner over me. Until now, I hadn’t let myself think of her. If I let my mind wander to her happiness, it made me feel insecure. Like I wasn’t good enough for her to pick me. Stace didn’t keep up with me, even when I reached out, so I didn’t receive Rebel updates. It hurt too goddamn much to seek her out through social media.
“Will you go to junior prom with me?” I asked her. It was the first time I’d ever openly asked her in hopes we could break that friend zone we’d come so accustomed to.
“Awh, Coen, you don’t have to ask me. We both know you can get a date.”
She thought I pitied her and had no idea I was hopelessly in love with her.
“I didn’t ask anyone but you, Rebel. So what’s it going to be?”
“Fine, but don’t get handsy on me, or I’ll kick you in the balls. Capisce?”
Her haughty attitude always got me riled up. She would be mine one day.
“What if you want my hands all over you?” it escaped my lips before I recognized the tease went too far. Unlike most teenagers, I didn’t sleep with every girl possible. Rebel was the only one I wanted.
She blushed and didn’t bring it up again. I wanted her too, though, to question my flirting and beg me to take her. Rebel didn’t think she was good enough, but she couldn’t be more wrong.
Prom was singlehandedly the best and worst night of my life. Rebel wore a midnight violet dress. A rose and several gems encrusted under her chest. It was strapless and pushed her lady friends to the surface. I appreciated the sight more than I cared to admit.
Her smile caught me off guard. For the first time in our friendship, she appeared nervous. She had a telltale about her. She’d drag her bottom lip inward, and a cute indent on her cheek would surface from the motion.
All I wanted was tell her how much she meant to me, and spend a lifetime with her by my side. That didn’t happen, and even though we spent the night dancing, it all ended. I drove her home. Holding her hand to the door, I brought her lips to mine, and before I pushed her further, we separated.