Chapter 12 #2
She pulls her cell from her pocket and shakes it in my direction. “I read a hell of a tale from Lou via text. You forgot to tell me about your fake romance.” And because she needs to gloat, she says, “And I told you James wanted to rub your naughties together.”
I read the card again. A painful knot forms in my throat because I’m wishing they were from someone else. I don’t want my heart to linger there, but it does.
“James asked me out. I told him no.”
Or, at least, I think I told him no. I was nervous, so now I can’t recall our exact exchange. I drop into my seat, slump back, and swivel in a circle.
“Are you sure your rejection doesn’t have anything to do with your secret love affair with Lou?” She laughs.
I spin my chair one more time before stopping to face her. “I was going to tell you about that—soon-ish.” I wince.
“Really?”
I grip the armrests and nod.
She pops her lips and glances at her cell screen, then reads aloud, “Louie, if anyone asks, we were dating until the other week. Got it? Thanks, kissy emoji, Cait.” She sets her phone aside but then shoots me her start-explaining eyes.
“It’s a long story.” I huff, remembering the night I lied about Lou. “And it may have a little something to do with Evan.” I wince.
Aggie throws a handful of paper clips at my forehead. They land in my hair and stick to my sweater.
“Why are you keeping things from me?” she yelps.
I give her a sad face. If she only knew the extent of the things I keep from her.
She hops to stand, planting her hands on her hips. A blue fire blazes behind her eyes. “So what, Abalicious Evan turned you down. You poor thing.”
“How did you know that?” I sit up in my seat, my eyes wide.
“Cait, when will you learn? When there’s something amiss, I always find out. But look here.” She points to the flowers. “Now you can get over Evan by having fun with Mr. James Henley. This is the sex buffet we talked about. It’s time to eat up.”
I roll my eyes and sink back into my seat, waiting for the inquisition.
“Tell me. Now.” She plops into the chair across from me, props her purple combat boots on my desk, and leans back, getting comfortable.
Reluctantly, I fill her in on the details.
I tell her about my dinner with Evan, about how he thought I was dating Lou and seemed jealous, and so I went with it.
I tell her how I suggested a one-night stand, to which he responded that I couldn’t handle it and he didn’t need a girlfriend.
I give her a play by play of the very confusing run Evan and I took, where we continued to flirt despite everything.
I end the story with James asking me out. So now she knows everything—almost.
“The issue is I want more with Evan.” I lean into my desk, tracing the edge of my keyboard with a fingertip.
“That’s your problem, right there.” She points in accusation.
“What?”
“You want the unavailable. Unavailable is safe.” Aggie drops her feet to the floor, leans forward, and pounds the desk with her fist. It rattles my computer, the vase, and a cup of colored pens.
“I don’t want safe?” I frown at her. “I’m pretty sure I want safe.”
“It’s safe for you because you can’t get Evan. You never have to open up if you’re never with anyone. And don’t think I don’t know why you’re doing this. It’s because of whatever you’re running away from at home.” Her hand swings wildly.
At this I straighten, my arms and back rigid. Here we go. She’ll demand I tell her everything. I press my lips together, locking them.
Seeing my reaction, she says, “Don’t worry. I know nothing—yet—only that there’s something. Why do you think I have a spare key to your apartment? I need to snoop somehow.”
I sit up straighter. “That’s why?”
“Duh.” Aggie throws out her hands with a dramatic flair.
Her admission startles me for a moment, but when I consider it, I find I don’t care. There’s nothing in my apartment for her to find. It’s not like I keep mementos from the worst day in my life.
There are boxes of old photos at my parents’ home. I studied them once, hoping they would make me remember. For each homecoming photo, each vacation, each family member I should have connected to, those people might as well have been strangers.
Aggie would find out about me if she dug online, which she might have already, but there have to be a million Cait Londons, and I don’t use social media. I’ve wanted to remain incognito, not only from everyone here, but also from my family.
When I don’t answer, she says, “Fine. Don’t tell me. But we’ll talk about this eventually.”
I nod, becoming morose, and pick at my chipped black nail polish. “I promise. I’m just not ready. Still figuring things out myself, okay?”
“It’s fine, but this guy thing isn’t. To me, you’re afraid of something real, and Evan is never going to be real.
Because real means you would have to share your mystery past. Which is why I thought you could handle some booty calls.
It’s right up your alley. Love them and leave them. Move on with your boring life.”
She’s right, and I tell her so. Which makes her leave me alone. Something else I need.
The remainder of my workday is a blur of replaying Aggie’s reasonable observation of my life. Even if she’s right, there’s a stubborn part of me that can’t let this Evan thing go.
Is it because I don’t like to lose when challenged?
Is it because I have a crush like some teenage schoolgirl?
I can’t be sure. But I need to see it through until I find some sense of closure.
It might only mean we become friends, or I can pass him in the hall without thinking of our kiss. In a few weeks, this could pass.
As for James? I do like him, but my stance remains the same. This is what I intend to tell him.
My hand hovers over the phone on my desk. In a rush of bravery, I grab the handset and press it to my ear. Quick fingers dial his number. I hold my breath. There’s a half ring before he answers.