I sniffed. “How is he?”
Frank raised his eyebrows and blew out a breath. “Bad.” I whimpered, hating to hear that. “But that doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice.”
I lay there, lifeless, both of us just sitting.
“Wanna go see a bad movie?” he offered.
I blew my nose. “I’ll go if you let me get extra butter.”
“Fine.”
* * *
Back at school, Violet was my co-pilot through those first awful weeks. She let me stay in when I needed to but also pushed my ass to go out when she could tell I should. She and Colton had split up long ago, even before the prior school year ended. She gotannoyed with him and it was just for the best.
Violet let me play all the sad breakup albums on loop. But even those didn’t feel right. Guy hadn’t wronged me. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. Our timing was just bad.
One night when I was drunk and feeling sorry for myself, I texted Guy while I was in the bathroom at a party. In ever so collegiate melodramatic fashion, I sent him Holy Ground by Taylor Swift. No explanation. Just the song. I bawled as I did it. My makeup was already questionable from being intoxicated, but it was wrecked from my bathroom antics.
I walked back into the party and as luck would have it, immediately ran into Mikey.
“Kitty, long time no see,” he bellowed, until he caught my expression. Almost everything Mikey did was loud, whether it was loving or fighting. He softened his voice. “Oh, shit.”
He’d already heard from Guy that we broke up. Mikey let me cry on his shoulder and made the executive decision that I needed to go home. Part of me was concerned that Mikey was hitting on me, as that was his typical way of relating to women. But in reality, he was just super sweet.
“I’m sorry y’all had to split,” he said as we walked. “I was always jealous of what you two had.”
I shot him a skeptical stare. “Really? The king of the casual encounter was jealous of myrelationship?”
Immediately, I felt bad, because I could tell my words stung. Something else was going on there. I didn’t push.
By the time we got back to my room, I wasn’t nervous about his intentions anymore. He made sure I had water and ate a snack, staying to chat for a few minutes before he left me to my peace.
“I miss him, too, babe,” was all he said when we hugged goodbye.
Pathetically, I turned my phone off silent for the first time in like, ever, hoping I’d hear if Guy texted me back.
When I was posted up in bed, dozing off, Guy responded. He sent the song our moms sometimes put on when they were having their wine nights: Jewel’s You Were Meant for Me. They’d both put their heads back on their respective Adirondack chairs and belt out the bridge, Eva in her signature Quebec-tinged rasp and my mom in her gritty country accent.
It was a good memory. Our moms, happy. And the song itself, sad and longing. Was Guy rubbing in the idea that we were meant for each other?
GUY-GUY FRENCHIE
Miss u Birdy
My drunken tears started up again, cut with hysterical laughter thinking back on the good times we’d had when we lived on the same street. Guy was my person. He was sitting in Seattle or wherever the fuck he was that night, being sad over me, and I was in Cambridge, being sad over him. I hesitated, but I was awake anyway. He was texting. He was on the other end. And I was still pretty drunk.
Miss you too
Saw Mikey tonight. He misses you
Bet he does, that dirty boy
He try to fuck u
Ew Guy-Guy yuck
Actually he was really sweet
