I shook my head. What I wanted was a legitimate question; who I wanted was most definitely not.
Which, of course, meant the damn question was going to stick around a lot more than I had anticipated.
I returned to my apartment and sat on the couch somewhat numbly. I picked up a book about traveling in Oregon, but I found my mind still wandering and gave up reading it after about five minutes. I turned on the TV and started watching aFriendsrerun, but my mind could barely pay attention. It at least killed some time, but was I really going to just want to kill time for the next two months? Or did I want to do something worthwhile?
Halfway through the second rerun of friends, my phone buzzed. I scrambled to pull it out of my pocket and paused when I saw the name “Phoenix” at the top.
Answer it.
Ignore him.
Block him.
Answer and be nice.
Answer and be rude.
A thousand and one different options for approaching that call rushed through my head as the ring tone acted like a timer for me; I knew when I’d only have a few seconds left to answer.
But it didn’t take me long, maybe five seconds, to decide that answering was best. After all, I still had a glimmer of hope that the real Phoenix was the ideal Phoenix. Just like imagining that the ideal in my head was real was a bit optimistic, thinking that the Phoenix I’d seen today was the true Phoenix was a bit pessimistic. It had to cut both ways.
But you still have to be careful.
“Hello?” I said, my voice as neutral as possible.
“Hey, Jess,” he said, his voice warm but with a hint of excitement.
I didn’t know if seeing him again would somehow be a sign of me becoming more stable or just another point along a lifetime of making unstable choices. But I was quietly hopeful about this conversation. I didn’t like things ending on sour notes.
“How are you?”
“Good,” I said.
“Good, good, I—OK, look, let me get right to it.”
OK, now we’ve got some hope.
“I was in a bad place during our date earlier today,” he said. “I acknowledge that I acted miserably, and you had every right to walk out on me like that. I don’t... I will get into why I was this way at some point, but I don’t want to right now, not on the phone with you. But I just wanted to say that I know I acted like an ass, and I’m sorry.”
Now we’ve got some real hope.
“I appreciate it,” I said as I took a quick breath.
It was a good start. But a part of me was sternly warning myself to remain calm and to give everything time to unfold. There was nothing suggesting that we were suddenly meant to be, nor could there possibly be on a short call like this.
“Jess, you said that if I wanted to try again, I should come by Billiards later this week, and I will. But I also felt like I needed to call you to say I want to try this again.”
Strangely, upon hearing that, I didn’t feel an increased surge in excitement. It was more like I knew the ball was in my court now, and it was up to me to decide how to proceed. I didn’t have the anxiety of not knowing or having the fear that Phoenix really was a certain way; now, I could act however I wanted.
“I didn’t want to show up at the bar and have it be weird. I just... I want to have a second chance.”
He’s saying it like he wants a second chance for more than just me. Bit odd...
“Well, I appreciate hearing everything,” I said. “I will be at Billiards on Tuesday night if you want to come by then. You can probably guess it’s not going to be too busy then.”
“Tuesday?” Phoenix said, sounding a little concerned. “I mean, Tuesday is usually club—”
“Decide what’s important, Phoenix.”
