What are you doing this Friday? —Bel
Liam replies instantly. He never makes me wait long.
What’s happening Friday? —Liam
There’s this mixer at MacGregor. Kennedy convinced me to go and I think it might be fun. Wanna join? —Bel
I hold my breath, awaiting his response. Every second stretches into an eternity when you’re anticipating something. Shit. I’m sweating. Under boobs. Under arms. Under whatever you name it. I practically finish my milkshake in two more slurps.
Maybe I’ll meet you there. —Liam
I blink a few times.
Really? —Bel
Yeah. I’ll text you Friday to confirm. —Liam
Holy moly. Am I finally going to meet my pen-pal-turned-text-best-friend?
Common sense tells me not to get too excited. This is Liam. King of all flakers. King of excuses. King ofLet’s-get-Mabel’s-hopes-high-for-no-goddamn-reason.
But my hopeless heart doesn’t get the memo as I text back.
PerfectI can’t wait to see you <3. —Be
Mabel
I can’t make it, Bel. I’m so sorry. Something came up. —Liam
To say Liam’s latest text put a damper on my mood is an understatement.
I just remembered why I don’t date. Men are confusing as hell and only good for one thing: opening jars. Considering most of them can’t even locate the clit, I stand firm in my previous statement.
I can smell bullshit from a mile away. If Liam doesn’t want to see me, fine. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to give him the cold shoulder for twenty-four hours. We never fight. Rarely argue unless it’s over trivial things like the best horror movie, the best spot for summer vacationing, and the best boyband in the world.The Silence of the Lambs, Seychelles, and One Direction are the only acceptable answers, by the way.
But this straight-up annoys me.
Once again, I built my hopes up for nothing. The only thing keeping me going this week was the fact that I was going to meet Liam in person.
I got a new outfit. I got my nails done. I got my pussy Brazilian waxed and for what? For Liam to bail on me!
I finally experience the worldwide disappointment girls feel when their dick appointments cancel on them. Not that this was a dick appointment, but it did involve a frustrating guy who has a dick, so yeah, you get the gist of it.
I leave Liam on read and text Kennedy.
I’m leaving in ten minutes to pick you up. —May
Kennedy replies to my text with a simple thumbs-up.
My cat, Cheeto, snuggles up to my feet. I bend down to pick her up and nuzzle her orange fur. She paws at my hair before comfortably settling against my chest.
“Stay away from boys, Cheeto,” I whisper to her and she blinks her big eyes at me. “They’re useless. Repeat after me. No boys. Ever.”
Cheeto meows in response.
“That’s good enough.” I lower her to the foot of my bed and she stretches out. “And stop playing with the neighbour’s cat. I know he fancies you. Next thing you know, you’ll get your kitty ass knocked up. Got it?”
Cheeto can’t be bothered with me. She meows again and I sigh, walking over to my full-length mirror.
