Then why am I, once again, standing here, holding back tears at the cruel words he hurled at me?
I shake my head as I turn around to make my way back to my bedroom. I know I promised Jade I’d wear a dress, but I just can’t at this point. It’s already going to be awkward enough; I might as well just be comfortable.
“Where are you going?” Liam asks, as I walk by him, still sitting on the couch with Gigi. I ignore him, close my bedroom door behind me, and lean against it.
I will not cry. I will not cry, I chant to myself. Why is it that this man can make me feel like complete shit. My pity party ends when my phone beeps, telling me I have a text. I pull it out of the black purse I have hanging off my shoulder. Right away, I see that I not only have a text from an unknown number, but also that it’s six forty in the evening, meaning I only have five minutes to change my outfit.
Unknown:
Hi Sloane, it’s Kyle. I got your number from Jade. I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make our date tonight. I just can’t see myself dating a girl who’s taller than me. I hope you understand.
Are you fucking kidding me? I push off my bedroom door with a huff as I stomp my foot with zero care in the world that Liam can probably hear me. He’s going to love hearing that my date blew me off five minutes before he was supposed to pick me because I’m one inch taller than him! Seriously, what did I do in a past life?
I’d love to say Kyle is the worst, but there’s a reason I haven’t been on a date in over eighteen months.
After what happened with Liam, there was Keith. I met Keith my freshman year of university. He was two years ahead of me, but had recently changed his major so he was taking first year classes. We went on a grand total of five dates. Only, on the fifth date, his wife showed up. Enough said about Keith.
After Keith, there was Jesse. Thankfully, we only went on one date. Unfortunately, Jesse couldn’t understand how buying me Wendy’s didn’t mean I was going to sleep with him.
After Jesse, there was Riley. Let’s just say, I’m never dating a guy younger than me ever again. I met Riley when I was in my first year of my master’s degree and he was inhis second year of his bachelor’s degree. I went on three too many dates with him. He had to ask his mom permission for everything, and I meaneverything. On our last date, he called her to ask her if he liked mushrooms. Like, what the hell?
“Are you okay in there, Sloane? Gigi and I are getting a little worried; we can hear you stomping around,” Liam says with a knock on the door, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.
Ripping open the door, I come face to face with him on his crutches and Gigi sitting beside him on the floor, the traitor. “I’m fine. Turns out I’m not going on a date tonight,” I tell him as I go to close the door, but his crutch stops me.
“Perfect. Put on some sweats and come join me in the living room. My pizza should be here any minute and I’ll queue upMadagascaron Netflix,” he says, before turning around and hobbling back to the living room, Gigi right on his heels. With an eye roll, I close the door behind him.
I drop down on my bed, debating if I should take Liam up on his offer or just hibernate in my room until I hear him go to bed. My internal battle doesn’t last long, though, as my stomach starts growling at the sound of the doorbell ringing, announcing that Liam’s pizza is here.
I yank my sweater dress over my head with a huff, dropping it to the floor without a second look, as if it’s at fault for another dud of a date. I walk away from the offending garment and make my way to my closet to put on an old crewneck sweatshirt and leggings, grabbing a scrunchy off my dresser to throw my curled hair into amessy bun on top of my head. My last stop before joining Liam on the couch is the bathroom.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wonder why I even put this much effort into a blind date. I spent a good forty-five minutes drawing on the perfect winged eyeliner, yet here I am, scrubbing it off with a makeup wipe without even having left the house.Never again. Jade has officially lost the privilege of setting me up on dates. With a final glance in the mirror, and a deep exhale, I mentally prepare myself to join Liam on the couch, just knowing he’s going to have some wise-ass comment about my failure of a date.
True to his word, he hasMadagascarpaused on the TV, the lights off, and an entire roll of paper towel on the coffee table by an open box of pizza. He hears me join him, since he presses play on the remote, but he doesn’t say a word.
It was my favorite movie growing up. My dad, Ronan, or Liam would always put it on when I was sick or upset. I’m not gonna lie and say it hasn’t become a guilty pleasure as I’ve gotten older—I’ve watched it more times than I can count—after every exam session, bad date, when I’m missing my mom.
I can’t believe he remembered, I think to myself, turning a little in my seat to look at him. To really take him in. I haven’t allowed myself to truly see Liam Jones as an adult. He still looks exactly the same, or the same way he’s always looked to me. He still has bright but guarded green eyes. The same barely-there smile that he releases when he thinks no one is looking. But now he has a few laugh lines, or in his case, frown lines, around his eyes. His hair is a little shorter, but just as thick and dark as it was when I was akid. And like seven years ago, I still want to run my fingers through it.
“Are you done staring at me?” Liam asks without looking at me, making me blush at being caught.
“I wasn’t staring,” I answer, turning my attention back to the movie.
“Yes, you were,” he says back. “Just ask what you want to ask.” How he knew I wanted to ask him something is beyond me, but I don’t think he would appreciate me asking what happened to him for him to actually be nice to me today.
“Why did you put this movie on?” I ask him.
“Because it’s your favorite,” he answers immediately, not having to think.
“No, itwasmy favorite.”
“Sloane, it’s your favorite movie,” he says right back with finality.
Itismy favorite movie, but he doesn’t need to know that. And he doesn’t need to act like he still knows me. He doesn’t. I’m not a child anymore.
“Sloane, you haven’t changed that much since the last time I saw you,” he continues.
And the punches just keep rolling in today. Please, tell me what I did in a past life!
