say?
While I waited for her reply, I prayed it wasn’t too bad. She didn’t know it wasn’t a hookup, but she didn’t have any right answering my phone and not telling me.
Regi: Just that you were in the shower and asked if I could take a message. Why?
Me: Because that was my girlfriend. Now she probably thinks I fucked you
Regi: Shit, sorry, I didn’t know. You had her saved as some random name. How was I supposed to know that was the chick you went on and on about the night before?
My head dropped. Fucking hell. I wondered if that was why Bleu hadn’t answered my call that morning.
Me: You weren’t. Hopefully I can fix this shit
Regi: I told you to call her last night
Me: Well, I was drunk
Regi: Trust me I know. Well, I can try to call her on my lunch?
Me: No, she’s working too
Regi: Want me to text her? Or I can call her after I get off work
Me: I’ll deal with it, but I may need you to back me
Regi: Anytime. You know that
Me: Love you
Regi: Love you too
We had pulled up to the airport and everyone was unloading. As we walked to the plane, I shot off a text to Bleu.
Me: I’m getting on the plane, but we need to talk. Regi answered my phone this morning and I just found out. She’s my cousin. I swear. Please let me know when is a good time to call you.
The message still didn’t show as delivered by the time we took off. I prayed she hadn’t blocked me—from her phone and her life.
“Love Somebody”—Maroon 5
All morning, I lay in bed feeling sorry for myself. It was Saturday, so I had nowhere to be and no one who was expecting me. Last night I’d eaten ice cream and drank copious amounts of alcohol with my sister. Yeah, I said I gave up alcohol, but that was when I thought I had something to lose.
I’d rolled out of bed to pee and then shuffled my ass right back. Until early afternoon, I dozed off and on.
“Do you feel as shitty as I do?”
One eye cracked open, and I gazed blearily at the door. Crimson stood there, hair a mess, makeup smeared on her face.
“Do I look as shitty as you do?” I mumbled half into the pillow. She snorted, then groaned.
“We’re a pair. Wanna go eat fattening food? I’m thinking it needs to be done,” she said. I rose to my elbows and shoved my ratted hair out of my face. A groan slipped out at the pounding in my head.
“Okay, but I need a shower,” I said as I grimaced at the awful taste in my mouth. “And a toothbrush if you have an extra.”
She left and came back to throw a toothbrush in plastic to me. It landed in front of my face on the bed.
We grunted at each other, and she turned around to leave.
I heard the water start in her bathroom. When I went to get out of bed, I was tangled in the linens and fell on the floor. A groaning cry escaped me. “Dammit!”
Once I disentangled myself, I stumbled to the guest bathroom. I stripped and wavered on my feet as I waited for the water to get hot.
Under the stream of the shower, I scrubbed myself clean, washed and conditioned my hair, and tried not to think about Cameron. Though it seemed it would take some time to get my head and my heart on the same crumpled sheet of music.
Out of the shower, I used the hand towel to wipe the condensation from the mirror. I winced when my eyes locked on the fading hickey above one boob. Cameron had left it there the night before we’d fought, saying he needed to mark what was his.
The ironic part was that it was on the left one, over my heart. I couldn’t fathom how he still owned my heart too. He’d moved on like what we’d shared was easily dismissed. Then again, perhaps it was only special on my end.
Anger began to simmer, and I considered calling him to give him a piece of my mind. Then I decided he wasn’t worth it.
“You need clothes?” my sister called as I walked out into the short hallway.
“God, yes, please,” I said. She appeared in her doorway and tossed me a bundle of clothing. I thankfully took it into the guest bedroom. I dropped the towel and dressed in the leggings, T-shirt, and