Recommended Reading

27. Texts from Not Quite Exes

27

Texts from Not Quite Exes

I’m about to check my phone for texts from Luke after the Gladyses pull away, but the bell on the door rings again. The guy puts down his umbrella and pushes the hood back on his raincoat. Truman.

“We’re about to close,” I say, knowing that running away and ignoring Truman is not an option. Besides, I was able to watch the video. I can talk to Truman.

“Your sign says you’re still open,” he says, shaking his umbrella and sending water droplets onto the floor.

I walk past him and flip the sign hanging in the window to closed. “We’re closed now.”

Truman slides past me, peering around at the store. “This place cleaned up well. And you seem to be doing ok. Everyone’s talking about this Book Whisperer guy who works here and knows just the right read to solve all your problems. What do you recommend?”

“You’ve got the Reading Festival, the literary journal, Campus Books, book club, and famous boyfriend Scott Horatio. I don’t think you’ve got any problems the Book Whisperer could help with.”

Truman pulls two books from the shelves, Great Expectations and Love’s Labour’s Lost . I don’t think he even intends the irony of the titles; he just chose the only two he saw with fake leather binding and gold embossing on their spines. He keeps scanning the shelves.

“I miss you at book club. You won’t answer my calls or read my texts. Do you really hate me that much?”

“It would be easier if I did. I made it clear how I felt, and you made it clear you don’t feel the same.”

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.” Truman puts the two books down on top of the shelf.

I remember what Luke said about me being determined and not allowing anything to control me and decide to lay out the truth to Tru. “Be honest. You knew I liked you the whole time. And I thought if I just read the right books or was smart enough or wore the right clothes or told you in some big way or if I was less extra or loud or fat then eventually, I’d be worthy of you. And you knew how I felt. And you liked me mooning after you. And you knew no matter what I did, for whatever reason, it would never be enough.”

“Fine. I suspected. But you be honest too. You never really wanted me. You wanted a boyfriend. Any boyfriend. Your grand gesture was about you having some big romance like you read about in one of your books. I just happened to be the guy you cast in the role opposite you.”

I close my eyes and swallow hard, not willing to cry in front of Truman again. “Thanks,” I say.

“For what?”

“Making it easier to get over you. I’m not mad at you. I don’t think you’re a bad guy. But it’s taken me this long to get even this far. We’re closed, Truman. I need to ask you to leave.”

“Bobby,” Truman says, almost a whisper.

“Maybe one day I’ll be the kind of guy you’ll want. But I probably never will be. Right now, I’m just trying to be the kind who doesn’t hate himself whenever he thinks about you. I really need you to go.”

And he does.