my whole fucking nervous system.
The lie would’ve tucked me in and kissed my forehead.
But he’s still waiting for an answer.
Keep your mouth shut.Don’t tell him.
He’ll think it means more than it does.
That you’re serious and want more.
Like a relationshit—Hhhhuk?—
I mean, relationship.
“The guy I contracted to settle my addiction, you serious?” I say with a laugh.
At least I think it’s a laugh.
Or maybe it’s the beginning of one.
A sound between a cough and a breakdown.
“What the fuck you want me to do?
“Breathe it out in yoga?
“Take a fuckin’ stroll through Central Park?”
He glances off,
hiding the hurt burning in his eyes.
I shrug.
“Since I met you, it’s only gotten worse?—”
“Sonny,” he shake his head.
“Stop usin’ him.”
His stare stays on the sidewalk. “I’m askin’ you to stop usin’ him. I know I got no right. I know what the rules are. I know he’s there and I’m here, and I haven’t signed shit yet. But, c’mon—” He finally meets my eyes. “If you’re gonna break with someone, break with me.”
He leans closer. “Let's just fuckin' try.
“You and me. No one else.”
Another"Hey Andrew"falls out of a girl as she walks past.
She glances back over her shoulder,
waiting for a reply,
a reaction,
anything.
Andrew doesn’t turn.
